“Hit it again with your orbs. As soon as you do, we make for those branches. Don’t dally, stay low, cut when you have to.” Dustan readied his sword for the charge.
Kyra nodded and conjured an orb. It struck the left eye, and the pulpy mass exploded in a spray of energy. The tree bellowed, rage fueling the intensity of its thrashing limbs. Dustan followed Kyra beneath and through the wing, both suffering a score of vicious lacerations. Once they were past, the monster rotated to continue its assault. The horns drove down, penetrating deep into the swamp bed. Dustan and Kyra trudged through the mire as fast as the dense muck allowed. The sounds of roars, cracking wood, and spattering water diminished, and eventually they collapsed onto dry ground at the far end of the swamp.
Dustan peered at Kyra and tried to muster a grin. “Are we there yet?”
They rested on the bank, staying well clear of the slime-coated marsh. Enraged howls carried from deeper in the bog. Dustan’s ribs, though sore, healed. He lifted his arms above his head and twisted side to side, trying to loosen his body.
“How well do you know the realm?”
Kyra brushed clotted gunk from her legs. “I never saw much of this realm. My parents took me to the In Between not long after I was born. Hadraniel taught me about the creatures and something of its history and geography, but places look different in person. He did learn the approximate locations of the blade and hilt. I will know more about those areas.”
“I forget you are so old.” He grinned.
“I’m barely out of my teens in human years,” she said, slapping him on the arm. “I know you are trying to make me feel better.”
“Trying to make me feel better.”
“We should arrive at the Lava Flats soon. From there, I will get a sense of where the blade is kept.”
“Lava Flats? That doesn’t sound good.” Dustan retied his hair and knocked the mud from his boots.
“Not a hospitable place, but few locations here are. The war violated nature in the realm. The effects of the violence dramatically altered the ecosystems and landscapes.”
Dustan nodded. “Like those apocalyptic movies. After a nuclear war, nothing left but a wasteland.”
“Similar, I suppose. Both land and creatures have evolved to protect themselves. Most often with savagery.”
“Fight fire with fire, huh?”
“Yes. Not many cute and cuddly creatures here, or sunny beaches and scenic getaways.”
Dustan reached out and took her hand. “This isn’t your home anymore. The In Between has beauty in abundance. When this is over, we’ll live our long lives in a paradise.”
Kyra averted her eyes and stroked the back of his hand. “That would be wonderful.”
They continued on. The journey to the Lava Flats proved more treacherous than the cave or the swamps. No monsters or spirits tried to rip them apart, but the terrain was not suited for traveling on foot. At times, though they walked open ground, only stone remained visible overhead. Crags jutting from the landscape blotted out the sky. The valley lay floored in hardened magma. The crystalized rock glinted in the wake of flame geysers that sprang up at regular intervals. Fortunately, an audible hiss warned of an impending eruption. The smoldering ground burned the soles of their feet through their boots, and they needed to move swiftly to avoid them melting.
Scaling a sheer wall of glassy onyx proved an impossible challenge. Even Kyra’s daggers would not hold within the brittle stone, only breaking chunks loose. After spending several days attempting to circumvent the obstacle, they came across a rope ladder. Old, its threadbare cords broke with each step along the rungs and provided a nerve-wracking ascent up the cliff face.
At the peak of a hill, they viewed the Lava Flats stretching out below them. A lake of liquid fire tossed popping bubbles feet into the air, and slabs of igneous rock peppered the surface.
“We must make it across the lake.” Kyra tugged at the sleeves of her coat.
“Some of those blocks are a hundred yards apart.” Dustan trusted his abilities, but leaping that distance seemed unmanageable, even here.
“More,” she said with a grin and hiked down the slope.
23
Turtles and Hags
At the lake’s rim, Kyra squatted on her heels and gave a sharp whistle. The slab floating closest to them reared its head and wailed. Dustan backpedaled with a squeal. Kyra giggled as he reddened with embarrassment.
“What the hell is that?” Dustan eased forward a step, craning his neck to inspect the creature.
“I’m not certain if they have a name. Spirits didn’t name things at first. The angelic tongue, as humans call it, is obscure even to us. It existed with the first spirits, before the war fractured us. We use only spoken language now, but back then, they employed a practice of sending images and sounds into each other’s minds. Seems a more efficient method to me. Angels and demons’ distrust of each other carried over to their own ranks. They no longer wanted anyone inside their minds, even to relay information. The talent for mind intrusion is rare these days.” She shrugged. “I call these fellows lava turtles. Not terribly inventive, I know.”
The creature did resemble a turtle, at with least the hard, slightly rounded back, a fixed exoskeleton. The “turtle” possessed two short, stubby legs in the front, and two wide paddled feet in the rear. The eyeless head featured a small oval mouth and thin nostrils.
“They are quite skittish, not used to strange sounds. They will try to get away from anything they perceive as threatening. One of the few benign creatures left in the realm, they make poor food for other species with their rock hard bodies.”
Dustan moved in for a closer look. The back of the lava turtle bore deep lines crisscrossing at random angles. The patterns and the hard, black bodies mimicked the cooled igneous rock on the banks and floating in the lake.
“I thought spirits and creatures in this realm fed on the energy in the air.” Dustan watched the lava turtle bob in the red-orange liquid.
“They do, but many predators kill either for the pleasure of killing or to devour their prey. Ingesting prey offers a reserve of energy stored in the body. Or so I was taught. We have no need to eat other creatures, so it is purely a facet of nature outside spirits.” Kyra leapt onto the turtle’s back and motioned to Dustan. “When I whistle again, it will attempt to get away from us. Since we are on its back, not an easy thing to do.”
“Will it dive under the lava?” A stab of fear needled him.
“No. Or I’ve never heard of one doing such a thing.” Dustan thought he caught a subtle grin as she turned her head. “Our goal is to frighten them to the far shore. If this one moves away from our desired direction, we must find another. So be prepared to jump ship.”
Dustan did not like this one bit, but saw no other way of crossing the lake. “Fine. Let’s get it over with.”
Three turtles and two jumps brought them halfway across. Dustan’s trepidation waned, and he curiously eyed the next creature lying idle in the lava. Kyra whistled as the turtle they rode drifted to the left. The one Dustan spied squawked and began to paddle away. His leap landed him on the rear half of the beast, but Kyra landed short, teetering the creature like a seesaw. Dustan rocked and swayed, trying to maintain balance. His foot slipped, and he slid on his belly toward the molten magma. Kyra lunged and grabbed his arm. Now both skidded off their platform. Kyra drew a dagger and jammed it into one of the creases lining the turtle’s back. The creature bellowed and dove.
Goddammit.
Dustan pulled himself along Kyra’s legs while she held tight to the dagger. After regaining his balance, he tugged her with him to the rear of the turtle, half its body submerged in a slow dive. Its wail of pain startled another off to their right. The frightened neighbor swam in their direction, but remained too distant for a jump.
“Can you hit that one in the back end? Speed it up a bit?” Dustan yelled above the echoing squawks of a dozen lava turtles panicked by the disturbance.
&
nbsp; Kyra nodded and summoned a weak orb. It hit where she aimed, striking the rear portion of the creature. The creature tossed its head and increased pace toward them. Only a foot or two of their present ride remained above the surface. They stood on tiptoes, reeling on what was presumably the turtle’s ass, a stubby tail wagging frantically between them.
“We have to go now.” Kyra crouched, making ready for a leap.
“It’s still too far.” Dustan spoke to her feet at eye level as she soared out over the fiery lake. He held his breath, fighting the impulse to shut his eyes. Kyra placed a toe on the next turtle’s head and flipped forward onto the flat of its back.
“Hurry,” she yelled.
Dustan braced, his stomach matching Kyra’s flip, and leapt. He came down on his shoulder, a crack signaling a broken clavicle, but better than being deep-fried.
“Are you okay?” Kyra moved to his side.
“I will be.” He rolled his injured arm. “Look.”
The turtle’s flight had taken them a few strides from the bank.
“Can you make another jump?”
Dustan stared at her, incredulous. “Try and stop me. I’ve had more than enough of these crazy turtles.”
The hop to the shore proved less trying and less painful. They checked their gear, and paused for the soreness to fade. Two hundred yards beyond the lava lake, the base of a massive staircase sat marked by more monuments bearing the familiar glyphs. Dustan stepped up and studied the elaborate symbols.
“I’ve seen these before, along the portals. Similar designs were on the stones around the bowl where we fought the wolfdragons.” He scratched his neck.
“Yes, they are everywhere. No one, to my knowledge, knows what they mean. Remnants of angelic script. There was once a great library in the realm. It is said to have housed countless volumes of our history.”
“What happened to it?”
“The war demolished the structure. It stood in an area contested by the angels and demons. The location has switched control many times, positioned near the border of their domains.” Kyra traced one of the symbols with her fingers.
“What about the books?”
“Not books. Energy cores with the data contained within. Spirit minds holding a vast wealth of a near infinite history.”
“Shame, such a loss. Sounds like the Library at Alexandria.”
Dustan moved for the stairs and ducked down as a thunderous ruckus sounded above them. Kyra knelt beside him.
“Great ravens. Murderous birds.” She peeked over a stone bannister. The ravens, in their hundreds, darkened the sky. The size of large dogs, they swooped in around the mountain heights. “Keep your pace slow. They are much farther away than they appear. I doubt they will notice us before we reach the top.”
They climed the stairs as they wound up the side of the largest mountain Dustan had seen so far. From near the top, it seemed the whole realm sprawled visible below them.
Kyra crouched and crept to a cranny in the stone. “Ahead is the Southern Temple of Asmodeus. We will find the blade within.”
“Temple? I thought the spirits didn’t worship gods.”
“Not a place of worship. It is the southernmost fortress of the Horde. Asmodeus was one of their Great Lords, long ago. They named the temple for him in tribute, a practice begun only a few thousand years ago. Most places have names now, all titled after some lord or archangel.”
“Human influence?” Dustan grinned and wiped the dust from his face.
“I suppose. Though it may simply be a natural course of societal evolution.” Kyra shrugged. “Cultures exchange things. Humans developed religion from their exposure to us, and we in turn adopted their practice of naming things. It is strange we would change after countless ages.”
“Judging from those symbols everywhere, language of a kind was here long before contact with humans.”
Kyra obviously had not considered that. “You have a point. But we have no time for philosophy at the moment.” She nodded up the stairs. “This fortress has never been assaulted. It serves as the last retreat in the event the angels are ever able to push deep into the Horde’s domain. Aamon considered it the safest place to hide the blade. Normally, it would be lightly defended, but it’s a certainty warning has reached the guards we may try to infiltrate the temple. Still, the warriors here have suffered boredom with their duty for ages. Even with reinforced numbers, they shouldn’t be overly attentive. I hope.”
They slipped from the niche and crept around the last corner. The base of the temple consisted of a lower platform with five massive steps leading to an upper. The upper level, a wide semicircle, measured roughly twenty strides from the last stair to the temple gates. Two sentries stood watch on either side of the enormous golden doors. The edifice itself was constructed of deep brown stone akin to limestone and climbed the mountain heights in a series of diminishing rings. Banners waved from the battlements a hundred stories above.
Kyra pointed to her eyes and to the demons. Dustan nodded and skirted their view, gaining the opposite side of the staircase. She whistled. The guards glanced at each other before the one on their left moved down the steps. Dustan waited for him to clear the lower level, darted forward, and thrust Blood Dancer through his heart. Kyra rushed to the top stair and flung a dagger into the second guard’s right eye. Both demons erupted in unison.
“Will the others inside notice the disturbance?” Dustan remained in a crouch, eyes on the gates.
“Possibly, but we won’t be here if they come.”
“Is there another way in other than these doors? They look like they will make a bit of noise. And if they are coming to check on the commotion, we’ll run right in to them.” said Dustan.
Kyra moved to the balcony. Dustan stepped beside her and followed her gaze. The view brought on a wave of vertigo.
“There should be a passage beneath that outcropping. It leads under the fortress and into the dungeons,” she said.
Dustan blanched. “We have talents, but neither of us can fly.” The outcropping jutted out into the open air so far above the valley floor he could not see the ground. “How do you suggest we get there?”
Kyra offered a sly grin and twirled her daggers.
“Great,” said Dustan.
“I’ll go first and toss the daggers up to you. Take it slow, you’ll be fine.” She kissed him on the cheek.
Dustan watched as Kyra lithely drove the daggers into gaps in the rock and worked her way down. When she disappeared beneath the ledge, his heart stopped, and he desperately wanted to call out to her. Several minutes passed and the lump in his throat grew larger with each of them. Finally, Kyra stepped into sight. She threw the daggers, sticking them into the temple wall near his head. He glared at her with faux disapproval and retrieved the blades. His own descent lacked Kyra’s agile grace, but he made it without falling to his death. The passage cut a rectangular shaft under the fortress, fed some fifty strides in, and came to a dead end.
“What now?” asked Dustan.
Kyra felt along the stone. Her fingers sank in as the mortar between two blocks gave, and the wall swung ajar a few inches on both ends.
“Hadraniel was an angel. How does he know so much about a demon fortress?” asked Dustan.
“That, you will need to ask him. However, unaligned are executed or enslaved. It is possible one who eventually made it to the In Between served a master here.”
The explanation seemed plausible. Regardless, Dustan would kiss the tall man if he were present. Kyra pushed and slid the wall open enough for them to slip past. They emerged into a long corridor that curved around this side of the fortress. The five hundred or so paces in either direction looked identical. Dustan glanced at Kyra, awaiting her lead.
She took to the left and kept tight against the inner wall. An opening appeared ahead. Kyra peeked around the facing and slipped in. Dustan followed her up another set of winding stairs to a landing on the back side of the temple that offered the sam
e dizzying view as the balcony at the entrance. They paused, catching their breath. A great raven shot above the balustrade, blasting them with a booming caw. Both braced, hoping they had escaped the huge bird’s notice. Before the shock of the raven’s appearance could wear off, a clang came from the right. Their eyes darted to the sudden sound. A guard stared at them, wide eyed, spear tapping against his greaves. He appeared more surprised by their presence than they were by his. Kyra whipped a dagger at him, landing the blade right in his gaping mouth. The demon gurgled and slumped to his knees, twisting as he fell. Two inches of steel protruded from the back of his head. Kyra’s dagger clacked to the stone as he erupted in a bloom of pale red.
They reentered the fortress from the place where the guard had exited. Moving steadily upward, they avoided several more guards before arriving on the uppermost battlements. Within the central dome, they found an immense chamber decorated in gleaming weapons. Full sets of armor stood tall, appearing as though they might step forward with axe or sword at any moment. Tapestries depicting victorious demon armies adorned the walls, and the floor was carved in the ancient glyphs.
“Looks like the medieval castles I’ve read about,” Dustan whispered.
“Shh.” Kyra pointed to the far side of the room. A shimmering curtain of ruby energy stood between them and their goal—a six-inch blade resting cushioned on a pedestal. A woman who appeared older than the cranky unaligned back in the cave sat in an elaborately carved chair. Her eyes shone milky white, her gnarled hands gripping the armrest.
“Is she blind?” Dustan kept his voice low, but Kyra still shot him a glare.
“Yes,” she whispered.
“I didn’t know spirits could be blind.”
“Blind, deaf, mute. We can go insane or suffer a number of diseases.” Kyra fingered her daggers as she stooped against the wall.
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