“And he shall kill and kill,” said Corvad with a laugh.
“No,” said Molly, horrified. “No. We can still…we can still…”
But it was too late.
Now and forever, it was too late.
Ragnachar and Corvad disappeared in flashes of crimson fire, their flame sucked across the room to join the great pillar. The black clouds overhead ceased writhing and began to swirl around the shaft of crimson flame.
And all of it, all that might, all that limitless power, began to drain into the Old Demon.
Her grandfather swelled, transforming into something huge and monstrous and unconquerably strong. Molly wanted to plunge her blades into his back, to have Riothamus unleash the full strength of his magic.
But it was too late. She no longer had any weapons that could hurt the Old Demon…and neither did Riothamus.
And her grandfather’s mocking laughter rang in her ears and inside her mind.
###
The battle was almost over.
“Send some men to the gates of Castle Town,” said Gerald, “and let them know the runedead have been driven from the field. And send a messenger to Prince Hugh.” He shot a wary glance north. “If the Aegonar are going make an attempt on Knightcastle, they’ll do…”
The ground shook beneath his horse’s hooves. The poor animal whinnied in fear, and throughout the assembled armies Gerald heard horses scream in terror. A wind picked up, hot and dry, so hot it made Gerald’s eyes sting, reeking of sulfur and rot.
Dread knotted his stomach, a nameless fear that had no source.
“My lord!” shouted Adalar over the chaos that spread through the horsemen, “my lord, what’s happening?”
“I don’t know,” said Gerald. “Circan?”
But Circan said nothing, his eyes fixed on Knightcastle.
“Circan!” said Gerald…and then the slender column of silver light rising from Knightcastle turned the color of blood.
Gerald watched, horrified.
The bloody light spread across the sky, turning it red and painting the land with a harsh fiery glow. The ground heaved again, seeming to groan in fear.
“Circan!” said Gerald. “What is happening? Has Lucan done something?”
“I…I don’t know,” said Circan. “My lord...”
A horror began to form in the sky over Knightcastle, and men screamed.
###
Romaria wanted to run howling at the Old Demon, to ram her sword through his black heart, to take the form of the wolf and rip vengeance for her slain husband from his corpse.
But she could not move, not through the horrified dread that filled her. All around her, the battling Demonsouled winked out of existence, pulled back into the column of power draining into the Glamdaigyr, but she could not take her gaze from the Old Demon.
Her Sight showed two images superimposed over each other.
One was the man in the black robe, the Glamdaigyr in his hands, Mazael speared upon the blade.
The other was a creature of power and might, a thing beyond mortal comprehension as a man was beyond a grasshopper. And even as she watched it grew stronger and stronger as it gorged itself upon three thousand years’ worth of slain Demonsouled.
The Old Demon laughed, and Cythraul Urdvul resounded with it, the voice echoing inside her head.
BOW BEFORE ME.
The horrid voice thundered inside her skull, commanding her to kneel, to grovel before this creature that could squash her like an insect. It demanded that she fall to her knees and worship.
“No,” growled Romaria, gritting her teeth.
The thunderous laughter redoubled.
YOU WILL BOW BEFORE ME.
The dreadful pressure in her head intensified, compelling her to obey, even as the mighty horror that had once been the Old Demon swelled and grew.
And Romaria knew that she could not resist much longer, that soon the dark power would force her to fall to her knees.
And she would never rise again.
###
“What the hell?” said Hugh.
The fiery light rose from Knightcastle, spearing the clear blue sky and painting it the color of blood. The ground shook beneath his horse’s hooves, and murmurs of fear rose up from the Aegonar earls.
“Lucan,” said Hugh. “This is Lucan’s doing.” He looked at Ryntald. “We have to get to Knightcastle, now, stop whatever spell…”
But Ryntald’s face had gone white beneath the close-cropped red beard.
“I think,” said Ryntald, voice hoarse, “that it is too late.”
A horror formed in the sky over Knightcastle, and Hugh almost fell from the saddle in sudden fear.
He had no words to describe the creature that filled the sky. One moment it looked like a gaunt man in a black robe. The next it looked like a monster, a horror beyond imagination. The instant after that it looked like a sun made of burning blood, filling the world with flame and corruption.
“Sepharivaim!” shrieked Korvager, his eyes wide with madness. “Sepharivaim comes! You shall pay, heathen!” He laughed at Hugh, spittle flying from his lips. “You shall all pay.”
“That’s not Sepharivaim,” said Hugh, his tongue thick against his teeth.
The creature in the sky laughed, its hideous voice filling his head.
Korvager looked back at the sky and screamed.
###
Mazael Cravenlock awoke from darkness.
Pain exploded through him, fire filling every fiber of his body. He felt the Glamdaigyr sawing against his ribs and heart, felt the power of the Demonsouled pouring through him.
And into the Old Demon.
Or, at least, the thing that had been the Old Demon.
It still looked like his father, the same black robe, hard face, and fire-glazed gray eyes. But he had changed completely. Power as vast as an ocean and as unyielding as the mountains filled him now.
The power of a god.
And still more power rushed through the Glamdaigyr and into the Old Demon.
The Old Demon laughed, his voice ringing inside Mazael’s head.
WHAT IS THIS? STILL ALIVE? NO. ALIVE AGAIN. THE POWER FLOWING THROUGH THE GLAMDAIGYR BROUGHT YOU BACK. APPROPRIATE. THEN YOU CAN DIE AGAIN AND CONTEMPLATE YOUR FAILURE.
Mazael struggled to pull himself free from the black sword, Lion’s tip scraping against the stone. He was so close. Another few feet and he could drive Lion into the Old Demon.
But the Old Demon twisted the Glamdaigyr, fresh agony blazed through Mazael, and again everything went black.
###
Rachel Cravenlock Roland’s children started to scream.
She had taken them for a walk around Castle Cravenlock’s curtain wall, hoping to keep them occupied and hoping to distract herself from her worries. Mazael and Gerald had crushed Caldarus at the Northwater, but there had been no word from the army for days. They must have reached Knightcastle by now, and Rachel found herself unable to sleep.
So she had taken Aldane and Belifane for a walk.
But now the ground heaved beneath the castle. The sky turned the color of blood, and men and women filled the courtyard, armsmen and servants and militia guards. Some stood rooted, staring at the sky, while others fled, screaming.
It would not matter. They could not flee from what was coming.
Rachel felt it in her bones.
A nightmare filled the western sky, a creature of might and unconquerable power. The mere sight of it sent terror stabbing into Rachel’s brain.
It was worse than the Great Rising. Lucan had unleashed a new horror. Mazael and Gerald had failed, and her husband and brother were most likely dead.
The thing’s voice thundered in her head.
BOW BEFORE ME.
“Mother!” screamed Aldane, clutching at her. “Mother, what is happening?”
The world was ending, but she had not the heart to tell him, so she held her children close and waited for the destruction to claim them.
###
Gerald gripped his sword, but it seemed so useless, so puny against the nightmare in the sky.
BOW BEFORE ME! YOU ARE MINE, MORTALS. YOU ARE MINE!
Pain flooded through Gerald’s head with every word.
“What do we do, my lord?” shouted Lord Tancred.
The creature’s laughter filled his skull, the very hills vibrating with it.
“Nothing,” whispered Gerald. Gods, gods, he wished he could have seen Rachel and the children one last time. “Nothing. We have failed, and the world shall fall into darkness.”
###
Mazael died and woke again and again. The assembled might of the Demonsouled poured through him, healed his mortal wounds over and over even as the Glamdaigyr slew him again and again.
He cursed himself for his weakness, struggled to move closer to the Old Demon. But he could not. The Glamdaigyr’s black blade held him pinned, leeching away his life and strength as fast as the power of the Demonsouled replenished it.
Another few feet. All it would take was two steps, and he could strike the Old Demon with Lion.
It might as well have been a thousand miles.
WITNESS. WATCH AS I REMAKE THIS WORLD IN MY IMAGE. WATCH AS I BREAK YOUR FAMILY AND FRIENDS AND MAKE THEM MY THRALLS. WATCH AND DESPAIR!
Mazael died and woke again.
Was this how it had been for Lucan, he wondered? He had killed Lucan atop Swordgrim. Had Lucan known this pain as he died, the crushing agony and regret? And then Lucan had been slain again before the Door of Souls, his entire life revealed to have been the Old Demon’s lie. Perhaps he had even died a third time, when he lingered long enough to tell Mazael…
To tell him that the Glamdaigyr was the Old Demon’s only weakness.
Absurd. The Glamdaigyr would turn the Old Demon into a god.
Again Mazael perished and returned.
Only Lion’s power or the magic of the Guardian’s staff could destroy the Old Demon. Yet Mazael could not move, and the Old Demon’s aura of might held Riothamus crushed in place. And the Old Demon was no fool. He knew the Glamdaigyr could drain power that would harm its bearer. He would not expose himself to the risk. Lion had been created to destroy the Demonsouled, and…
A desperate hope flared in Mazael’s mind.
Lion had been created to destroy the Demonsouled…and Mazael was Demonsouled.
He could not move forward. He could not break free from the Glamdaigyr’s blade.
But he could still raise his arm.
The Old Demon laughed at him.
STILL FIGHTING? USELESS. USELESS! DESPAIR AND DIE! DO YOU THINK TO THROW YOUR SWORD AT ME?
“No,” rasped Mazael, blood bubbling from his lips. “No, not throw.”
He raised his arm, and brought Lion stabbing down with all the strength he could manage.
The blade hammered through his damaged armor and sank deep into his chest. The sword’s azure flame exploded through him, and agony unlike anything Mazael had never known burned through him as the sword’s magic struggled against his Demonsouled blood. The Old Demon titled his head, puzzled.
DO YOU THINK TO ESCAPE FROM ME? YOU CANNOT. BOTH THE LIVING AND THE DEAD BELONG TO ME, AND YOU…
His eyes widened.
The Glamdaigyr shuddered as it drained Lion’s blue fire from Mazael’s body, and the Old Demon screamed.
###
Hugh stared at the horror, the dark god, taking shape in the sky.
Korvager had cut his own throat in despair, as had many of the seidjar, and Hugh contemplated joining them. But he suspected that even death would not permit him to escape from the dark power.
They had lost.
The world was lost.
He wanted to ride north and see Adelaide one last time, but knew he would never make it, not with that horrible gloating voice in his head. Malice and cruelty filled the voice, and he knew that the new master of the world would delight in tormenting its subjects. It would kill Adelaide in front of Hugh again and again, forcing him to watch as she suffered and died.
Then the voice fell silent.
Hugh blinked, startled, and a murmur went through the terrified Aegonar earls.
Then the thing in the sky began to scream.
###
The Glamdaigyr loosed a hideous metallic shriek. Through the pain choking his mind, Mazael realized that the Old Demon had created the sword to drain vast quantities of power, but he had not built the sword to handle two forms of magic attempting to destroy each other. Lion’s magic devoured Demonsouled power, and then surged down the Glamdaigyr and into the Old Demon.
The Old Demon’s scream of pain and horror filled Mazael’s mind. The red haze in his father's eyes sputtered, blue flames curling around his mouth and fingers. The Old Demon tried to release the sword hilt, his fingers smoking as the weapon grew hot, but Mazael grabbed the Old Demon’s hands, pressing them against the hilt.
For a moment he met his father’s terrified eyes.
“You wanted the power of the Demonsouled, father?” spat Mazael. He felt his clothes smoking, felt his flesh charring as Lion’s power ate through him. “Then have it! Have it all!”
###
The Old Demon stared at his son in stupefied incomprehension.
This could not be happening.
This could not be happening!
He was a god. Already he felt the vast power flowing through him, felt his expanding mind touching every corner of the world and reshaping it in his image. More and more power poured down the Glamdaigyr and into him…
…along with the wrath of Lion.
The Old Demon screamed as agony unlike anything he had ever experienced filled him. He tried to pull away, tried to throw down the Glamdaigyr, but Mazael’s hands held him fast, his son’s teeth bared in a rictus snarl.
LET GO, FOOL! LET GO OR YOU SHALL PERISH!
Mazael laughed at him.
“Yes, father, I shall perish,” he spat, “but I shall take you with me!”
###
Mazael gripped his father’s hands with all his strength, forcing them to remain in place against the black hilt.
The Glamdaigyr’s metallic shriek turned into a low roar, the sword vibrating within Mazael’s chest. Lion shone like a shard of blue light, sending wave after wave of hideous pain through him. The Glamdaigyr’s green glow turned blue, and then harsh white, the sword shining like molten metal as Lion’s power flooded into the Old Demon.
The Old Demon screamed once more, his eyes wide with terror, and then a shaft of blue fire tore through him. The hideous mantle of power around him shredded into nothingness, and the flame devoured his flesh and blood and bone, burning coals scattering across the floor.
An instant later the Glamdaigyr, overloaded by the competing powers, exploded into a thousand molten shards.
###
Gerald looked up, unable to take his eyes from the spectacle raging in the sky.
The dark god shuddered, screaming, and the column of flame rising from Knightcastle changed from crimson to a deep blue, the same color as Lion’s fire. The column stabbed into the nightmare, and the creature screamed, Gerald’s head threatening to split from the pressure. The earth shook and heaved, and he saw one of Knightcastle’s inner towers groan and collapse with a plume of dust.
Perhaps the world would simply rip apart. Certainly it would be a better fate than an eternity enslaved to the creature overhead.
But the column of blue fire stabbed into the nightmare, and the creature wailed, cracks of blue light spreading through its form.
And then it exploded.
A wall of blue fire rushed in all directions. The tide of flame hurtled towards him, and Gerald wondered if this was the end.
But the flame passed through him, and those around him, without touching them.
Stunned, he turned in the saddle and watched the fire sweep across the field. Bands of runedead still wandered outside the walls of Castle Town, and they disintegrated as the fire blaz
ed through them.
In a heartbeat, the remaining runedead crumbled into dust.
Gerald watched the blue fire sweep away to the north and east and south. The earth stopped shaking, and a stunned silence fell over the battlefield. The crimson light faded from the sky, and the reeking, burning wind stopped.
It now looked like any other day.
For a long moment Gerald sat motionless in the saddle, staring at the sky.
“What happened?” said Lord Agravain at last, his voice strained.
“I think,” said Gerald, “I think we won.”
###
The wave of blue fire washed through Castle Cravenlock, leaving them untouched.
Rachel looked around in bewilderment, stunned. The horrible presence had vanished from her mind. The ghastly nightmare forming in the sky had vanished.
It was if it had never been.
And she knew that blue fire.
“Mazael,” whispered Rachel.
###
The Glamdaigyr’s explosion ripped through the Chamber of Blood and knocked Molly from her feet, Riothamus landing at her side. The column of flame shuddered and trembled, and Cythraul Urdvul began to shake. The remaining fragments of the dome collapsed and fell in a black rain of jagged stone. A web of cracks spread across the floor, and Molly saw more cracks climbing the massive walls.
Cythraul Urdvul was about to tear itself apart.
The pillar of fire widened, devouring the dais, and Molly saw that in a matter of moments it would expand to consume the entire Chamber of Blood.
Riothamus heaved himself to his feet, leaning on the staff of the Guardian, and grabbed Molly’s wrist.
“We’ve got to get out of here,” said Riothamus. “When the blue fire destroyed the Old Demon…the power of the Demonsouled has nowhere to go. When it explodes…”
“Where’s Romaria?” said Molly. “And my father?”
Soul of Swords (Book 7) Page 46