by AC Cobble
Completely silent, the small demon darted forward and stopped on the far side of the creek. It stayed there briefly, then retreated and swiftly ascended the bank, disappearing from Ben’s sight.
Getting its friends, he thought.
He didn’t have to wait long. Two minutes later, several dark shapes plummeted off the creek bank, landing with soft thumps in the powdery snow. They charged across the flat.
“Now!” shouted Ben, leaping to his feet.
Piles of firewood burst into flame at the same time the demons hurtled over the creek, jumping wildly to avoid the narrow stream of water.
Grunt’s crossbow thumped and Corinne’s bow twanged. There was no time for multiple shots before the demons got to them, but Ben saw at least one crash to the ground, shrieking a pained cry.
The light from the firewood piles illuminated the creatures as they made it across the creek. Towaal had lit them using her magic and heat from the campfire.
Unfortunately, cold, which they had in abundance, wouldn’t damage the naturally resistant demons. The icicle trick she used on Lady Ingrid would also be useless. Towaal explained it took too long to form the frozen material and direct it. Ingrid had been stationary and the demons were moving as fast as a prime race horse.
Ben tried counting their attackers but didn’t have time. A small wave of demons was on them within heartbeats of his companions rising to their feet.
Rhys rushed forward and met them first. Grunt flanked him on the right and Ben on the left. They hoped to keep a space to allow Corinne to continue firing arrows. Towaal and Amelie were behind her and away from direct contact. Amelie’s rapier and defensive fighting style would be ineffective against the brutes. Towaal didn’t need to be close for what she had planned.
Rhys slashed back and forth neatly, carving into two of the things and pushing them back, gaining the women valuable space to work behind them.
An arrow flew over Ben’s shoulder and caught one of the dark shapes in the shoulder. It kept coming.
Ben stepped up and squared off with one of the thin varieties. Just like the one in Snowmar, it reached out and tried to catch his longsword. He let it wrap its hand around his blade. Then he twisted and yanked, slicing off fingers. This time, he continued his movement and drew his blade across the demon’s neck, cutting almost to the bone.
A gurgling scream penetrated his ears, and the thing fell backward, clawing at the fountain of purple blood pumping out onto its shoulder.
Ben turned and took a wild swing at the back of a demon facing Rhys, catching a meaty piece of its shoulder, spinning it around. Rhys darted over and thrust his blade deep into its back.
Grunt was alone, facing the last two standing demons. He was holding them at bay with his heavy bastard sword. An eviscerated body of a third demon showed why the other two were reluctant to get too close.
Ben took a step to help him but was startled when Corinne shouted, “Ben, down!”
He turned to see her loose an arrow right at him. A heartbeat later, he realized it was going high, right above his head. He heard it impact a body and another thin demon crashed down on top of him, flailing violently. Claws dug painfully into his back, gouging flesh and forcing him to the ground.
Ben shoved it away and rolled in the snow, trying to gain distance to use his sword.
Behind him and across the narrow creek, a deep voiced roar split the night and shook his bones.
The small demon paused momentarily and Ben took advantage, leaping forward off his knees and cutting it down.
Several more booming roars followed and his blood ran cold. From the other creek bank, seven ox-sized creatures sprinted toward them. They were bigger than the one in Snowmar, and they moved like wolves on the hunt. They were the largest demons he had seen. At least until he saw what loomed behind them—a massive shape he struggled to comprehend. Standing twice as tall as him and with wings extending the width of a small house, it started moving forward.
“Oh, shit,” muttered Rhys.
It was an arch-demon. Ben swallowed hard. The thing was huge. He glanced over and saw Rhys was standing near a heavily panting Grunt. The demons Grunt had been facing now lay dead on the ground.
Both men’s swords rose and they set themselves, prepared to meet the next wave. Ben struggled to force down a surge of terror as the huge black shapes easily cleared the small creek.
“Aim for the neck!” yelled Rhys.
A crackle and pop split the air. The hairs on the back of Ben’s neck stood on end. Lady Towaal joined the fight.
A brilliant blaze of ball lightning burst around the men and rolled forward into the charging demons. Earsplitting howls of pain stabbed into Ben’s head.
The first demon in the charge cartwheeled backward, flames bursting from its chest where the lightning impacted it. The iridescent bolt of energy traveled back and jumped from demon to demon, cascading through the first seven and making them dance like marionettes on a string.
The lightning leapt from the first wave and imploded in on the arch-demon coming behind the others. It was still on the far side of the creek and was enveloped in a brilliant web of exploding, hissing light.
An incredible roar tore out of the demon’s throat. The sound and vibration was enough to send Ben stumbling back several steps.
For several sustained heartbeats, the lightning continued to pound the massive creature. All energy focused on blasting into its body, again and again.
Then suddenly, it stopped. Ben heard Lady Towaal thump to the ground behind him.
All was silent but for the crackling pop of small fires dancing on the bodies of the demons. The air was filled with the awful, acrid stench of burning flesh.
In the fading bonfires they had set, Ben could see smoke rising off of the bodies. Nothing moved out in the creek bed.
“What in the…” started Grunt. He stepped forward to examine the bodies, visibly stunned he was still alive.
A bestial roar exploded from the arch-demon, loud enough to shake showers of snow out of the trees behind it. It staggered to its feet, flames licking its wings where Towaal’s lightning had torched it. One then two shuddering steps forward, and the creature hurtled into the sky, its tattered wings flapped to propel it toward the companions.
Grunt, in front of the others, raised his bastard sword, but then jumped backward when the huge demon landed right where he had been standing.
The ground shook under Ben’s boots with the impact of the landing.
Grunt yelled an unintelligible battle cry and stepped forward, swinging his huge sword at the beast. One swing was brushed aside by a heavy-clawed hand, but then the next sunk deep into the demon’s side.
Purple blood flowed out. Grunt snarled, yanking hard to clear his blade, but the demon caught it with one hand. The creature reached forward with its other hand and gripped Grunt’s arm.
Rhys flew at it. Swinging to avoid Grunt, he slashed and cut deeply into one of the demon’s arms, springing loose the hand that was on Grunt’s sword. It still had Grunt’s arm though. It rose to its full height, taking Grunt with it. Dangling in the demon’s powerful grip, his legs kicked helplessly in the cold air. The creature grabbed his other arm. Roaring in the hunter’s face, it slowly tore him apart.
Guts, gore, and the remains of what had once been a strong, powerful man, rained down onto the trampled snow.
Rhys, unable to reach high enough on the demon or around Grunt’s body to deliver a killing blow, chopped into the demon’s other side. Now, twin rivers of purple blood flowed down its ribcage and legs. It didn’t seem to slow it.
The demon swung at Rhys, half of Grunt’s body still in its clawed hands. The rogue ducked low to avoid the decapitating blow.
Ben stepped forward, unsure how to attack the monster.
“Stay back,” warned Rhys, calling over his shoulder at Ben. “Guard for other demons while I’m out,” he instructed.
Ben, unsure what Rhys meant, felt a thump in his chest a
nd saw Rhys’ longsword ignite with a glowing white light. Over Rhys’ shoulder, Ben could see the sigils on the blade were blazing forth with the light of a small moon.
The demon, dropping the remains of Grunt’s body, covered its eyes and stepped back.
Rhys surged forward and, with one mighty blow, cut through the towering creature’s leg, severing it at the knee.
Squealing in an unexpectedly high pitch, the demon dropped down. Rhys spun in a full circle and with incredible speed. He hacked the demon’s massive head from its body. Almost a pace wide and with horns extending the length of Ben’s arm, the head landed heavily on the ground.
Smoke trailed from Rhys’ longsword and Ben was startled to see the demon’s purple blood burning off the weapon, leaving it as clean as when Rhys pulled it from his scabbard.
Recovering from the wind up and swing, Rhys stumbled a few steps to the side like a drunk after a long night in the tavern. He dropped his blade, the light extinguishing immediately, and fell full-length, face first in the snow.
The putrid scent of burned demons filled Ben’s nostrils. He nearly vomited at the unpleasant aroma. Instead, he choked back the wave of bile in his throat and crawled out of his bedroll.
Corinne, sitting on the same boulder Ben was when the attack started, looked his way. Her eyes had a far-off look, like someone who spent the last couple of bells realizing there was a lot more to the world than they thought. Ben understood that look.
“Anything?” asked Ben.
She shook her head silently. Of course not, thought Ben. If there had been other demons or another attack, she would have woken them.
In front of him, the carnage of the night before was splayed out in a visceral tableau. While Corinne continued to stare sightlessly, Ben walked forward and observed in the light of day what he had only seen by firelight the night before. Nineteen demons and one hunter lay dead. Ben didn’t even remember facing all of the creatures, but there they were. He avoided the red splatter where Grunt had gone down and walked amongst the demons instead. Most had wounds from Rhys’ and Grunt’s swords. A few had arrows sticking out of their bodies. The biggest ones had burns from Lady Towaal’s lightning.
The arch-demon was charred nearly head to toe, impossible to see the night before. It had gaping wounds where both Rhys and Grunt had cut it deeply. Its head, lying propped on one side by its long curving horns, came up to Ben’s waist. He shuddered and stayed back, certain it was dead, but still unwilling to go near those incredible fangs.
Uncomfortable after examining the head, he walked back to Corinne.
“I didn’t even shoot,” she said morosely.
“What do you mean?” asked Ben. Her arrows were jutting out of several of the monsters behind him.
“That thing.” She pointed to the arch-demon. “It literally tore my friend in two. I didn’t even shoot it. I just sat there, too scared to act. How can I call myself a hunter if I’m too scared to face a demon?”
Ben sighed. “I didn’t do anything either. That…” He paused. “That was a bloody big demon. I don’t think you know how you will react to something like that until you see it.”
“Well,” replied Corinne, “I know now. I don’t think I can do this,” she finished with a grimace.
Ben frowned.
“A couple of months ago,” he started, “I lost a friend, too, a man named Mathias. I felt awful about it. I thought if only I had done more I could have saved him. I thought long and hard about what I had to do next. Let me tell you what I thought, and maybe it will help you too.”
Ben sat next to Corinne on the boulder and continued, “The world is a hard place. And this journey we’re on, it’s only going to get harder. If we stop trying, if we stop moving, we’re as good as dead. If we’re not committed to doing anything necessary to get through this, then we’re dead. Before last night was the easy part. That part is over now. Until we get back to Northport, we have to be ready. We have to be prepared for anything.”
Corinne stared at the arch-demon.
“I know it will take some time to get over Grunt’s passing. I know it won’t be easy,” consoled Ben, “but here we are, and going back isn’t any easier. We’re over a week from Free State and even further from what I would consider safe. We need you. We have to keep going and complete our mission. We have to make sure Grunt didn’t give his life for nothing. Are you still with us?”
“What other choice do I have?” responded Corinne, her eyes glistening with unshed tears.
Ben wrapped a comforting arm around her shoulder.
“Did you just quote me, extensively?” asked Amelie from her bedroll. “I seem to recall telling you something very similar to that.”
Ben put his arm back down at his side. “I…uh…”
Amelie stood up, smirking at him. “It’s okay. You respect my advice enough to use it as your own. As long as we are clear on that, you can feel free to share my wisdom with others. I suppose I should be flattered.”
She rolled her eyes at Ben then turned to look at the sleeping bodies of Lady Towaal and Rhys. Ben coughed discreetly and stood, shaking his arms and stomping his feet, trying to get some warmth. They’d used all of their firewood on the bonfires.
“How long do you think they’ll sleep?” asked Amelie.
Ben shrugged. “Towaal was out for two days last time she did that. As for Rhys, I’m not even sure what he did.”
Rhys’ eyes popped open. “I killed that big demon, right?”
Ben frowned down at him. “How long have you been awake?”
Rhys sat up, stretching, and yawned. “I figured when I woke up alive that you all had it handled, so I went back to sleep.”
“What did you do last night with the sword?” asked Corinne.
Rhys rose to his feet and looked over at the dead arch-demon. “I chopped its head off. I think that’s what finally stopped it.”
“Seriously,” said Ben. “It looked like your sword was… Well, I don’t really know what it looked like. Like magic, I guess.”
Rhys looked around and saw his longsword resting in its scabbard by his bedroll.
“It’s mage-wrought,” he offered.
“Yeah,” replied Ben, “but you said it didn’t have any special properties.”
“Oh,” conceded Rhys. “I may have lied about that.”
“What?” exclaimed Ben. “Why would you lie to us?”
“Sorry. For what it’s worth, I’ve done way worse things.”
Ben stared at his friend.
Rhys sighed and added, “Friends or no friends, some things are not meant to be discussed. The properties of that blade, well, that’s something I wasn’t ready to discuss at the time. It is a difficult topic.” He bent and picked up the weapon. “It’s something I’m not prepared to go into detail about now, either.”
Amelie interrupted the discussion. “However you did it, you cut down that demon and saved our lives.”
“Prolonged, maybe,” responded Rhys glumly. “Last night, we learned an important lesson about what we’re facing and what Northport is going to be up against even if we are successful. The level of coordination and planning that went into that attack was amateur by human standards, but unheard of by demons. Since the aftermath of the Blood Bay War, I don’t recall anything like that.”
“What lesson did we learn?” asked Corinne somberly.
Rhys walked to Grunt’s pack and nudged it with a foot. “Think he’ll mind?” he asked Corinne, not answering her question yet.
“He’s not in position to complain,” she snapped.
Rhys squatted down and began rummaging through the pack. He pulled out the kaf pots. Finally, he answered, “That swarm was small compared to what Rhymer was telling us about. We had a mage with us and still had to pull out all of the stops to survive. Well, most of us survived. We can’t risk facing a larger swarm. Maybe we’d all make it through, maybe we wouldn’t.”
“How do we avoid the swarms?” asked Ben.
Two bells later, Ben stomped a trail through the knee-deep snow. Amelie and Corinne followed behind him, and Rhys brought up the rear, stumbling and staggering along with Lady Towaal in his arms. Ben knew even Rhys with his seemingly boundless energy would quickly tire carrying the mage. Ben offered to take turns, but instead, he ended up with Rhys’ pack, which was shockingly heavy.
When he asked what was in it, Rhys winked and said, “Liquid weighs a lot. Maybe we should drink some to lighten the load?”
“Not yet,” replied Ben. “Later tonight. Definitely later tonight.”
Ben sighed and shoved through a waist-deep snow drift that had accumulated between several boulders strewn across the creek bed. His pants and boots were treated to be water resistant, but he could already feel the damp cold seeping through the leather. By the end of today, the lower half of his body would be sopping wet, if it didn’t freeze. His feet and toes tingled painfully.
“How are you doing up there?” called Amelie.
“Okay,” he huffed. “I don’t think we’ll make it far today.”
“We’ve got to keep going,” she reminded him. “There’s a pile of dead demons behind us that I don’t think we can stay near safely. Besides, the quicker we move, the sooner we get done with this.”
Ben waved a hand behind him without looking back.
Shortly after that, he heard a groan. He looked back and saw Amelie walking with one palm held upturned in front of her.
“What?” he asked.
“Snow,” she replied with a grimace.
He looked up and saw she was right. High above, a swirl of light flakes was floating down to them.
“Let’s keep moving,” called Rhys from the rear. “It looks like heavy clouds, but it’s light so far. The further we get, the better.”