by A. C. Cobble
Morning sun turned to midday sun and Ben started to get warm. The hiking wasn’t strenuous, but it was warmer than the winter on the other side of the tunnel. In the valley, snow hid in the shade behind trees and boulders. Where the sun could reach, the forest floor was clear of it. Ben noticed Jasper’s strides getting longer and the man’s pace quickening. Ready to get home, thought Ben.
Or maybe it was something else. A nagging sensation started to bother him, something about the silent, peaceful forest. It was silent, unnaturally so.
“Jasper,” called Ben. “I don’t hear any forest critters or bird calls. I thought I saw a few squirrels scampering away when we emerged from the mine, but nothing now. Is that normal?”
The mage stopped walking and looked around.
“No, that is not normal,” he answered with a grimace. “I thought something was off, but I couldn’t put my finger on it. You are right. Normally, we’d be hearing bird calls and the chatter of small animals, maybe even see some deer or elk.”
“Demons?” asked Amelie. She was fingering the hilt of her rapier.
“I’m not sure,” admitted the mage. “It could be, but this valley is warded. Any demon entering would have tripped those wards and alerted my friends. They are not mages, but they do know how to defend themselves for the most part.”
The more they spoke about it, the more Ben realized that the silence in the trees was exactly like the Wilds. On the surface, all seemed peaceful, but the lack of noise, the lack of life, portended a deadly threat.
“If there are demons, we’ll be safest in my compound with the others,” said Jasper. “Let’s keep moving. Keep your weapons ready.”
They hurried, sliding and slipping across the pine needle-covered slope. By midafternoon, they made it to the floor of the valley and into a stand of bare-branched aspens. The white bark of the trees made Ben cringe. The Wilds were populated with birch trees, which had a similar white bark. Ben had seen enough demons passing around those trunks to be uncomfortable.
“Another bell,” declared Jasper. “Soon, we should start hearing sounds from the compound and smelling smoke.”
The closer they drew, the more obvious it became something wasn’t right. It was too quiet. Ben swallowed. He had nearly identical thoughts a bell north of Free State when they were returning from the Wilds.
Amelie shared a look with him. She tightened her travel pack and pushed her cloak clear of the hilts of her weapons.
The sun was setting behind the mountains when they finally arrived at Jasper’s compound. It sat underneath massive, century-old pine trees. The trees spread out high above, providing shade and, Ben suspected, coverage from far-seeing. There were seven or eight buildings he could see and a paddock off to one side for animals.
“Damn,” muttered Jasper.
No smoke escaped the chimneys and nothing was moving.
In one open doorway, Ben spied a booted foot. He drew his longsword and gestured for Amelie to draw her arms as well.
“Let’s stick together,” suggested Jasper, dropping his log of anima-wood. He still didn’t draw the sword at his side. “There are normally eight people living here in addition to myself. There could be more if we have guests. Chickens and pigs are kept close. Cows and sheep graze in a pasture about half a bell to the east.” The mage started pointing toward buildings, “The main house is there, two guest houses, a livestock barn, chicken coop, mundane crafts like brewing and carpentry there, my particular crafts over in that one on the far side.” He looked at Ben and Amelie, “Don’t go in there without me for your own safety. Finally, that’s the laboratory through the trees. Whatever you do, don’t start messing around in that building. I keep volatile chemicals there. They can be deadly.”
“We won’t go in,” agreed Ben, noting that Jasper had built the laboratory several hundred paces from where he slept.
They stayed together, and quickly searched the buildings and grounds. By now, Ben and Amelie knew what to expect. They’d done this before. It was still disturbing though, to see the twisted and torn corpses. All the livestock was slaughtered in their paddocks. They’d been drained of life-blood. People had clearly been caught unawares, though a few had made attempts to defend themselves.
“You said the valley is warded?” asked Amelie, stepping delicately around a shirtless man who’d fallen halfway between the main house and a guest house.
“Not well enough,” said Jasper with a scowl. “The ridge around here is ringed with devices, but they fail sometimes and have to be replaced. We check regularly. The odds are low that a demon would happen to enter where one of the wards failed.”
“That would be exceptionally lucky, or maybe a highly perceptive arch-demon could sense the gap?” suggested Ben.
Jasper grunted, but didn’t comment.
Ben nudged Amelie and she nodded understanding. Before the Wilds, Ben had never heard of an arch-demon. Even among the fanciful stories he grew up listening to, there was no allusion to the creatures. Jasper, however, was familiar enough with them to not question Ben’s assertion that an arch-demon might be able to detect a failed ward.
They followed the mage as he led the search through the rest of the compound. He progressed quickly, but a black look painted his face at each new body they found. These were his friends and companions. All of them were dead.
Twenty paces from Jasper’s magical workshop, they found a ninth body. The mage rushed forward and turned over a woman.
“Erran,” he mumbled under his breath. To Ben and Amelie, he explained, “She’s a mage. Was a mage, I mean.”
Ben glanced around then pointed behind the barn. On the ground were half a dozen dark shapes. They walked close enough to see they were demons.
“She didn’t go quietly,” murmured Ben.
“She must have been surprised like the others,” concluded Jasper. “She fought off a wave and tried to run to my workshop. There are devices in there she could have used.”
“Was she skilled?” asked Amelie.
“Erran had four years training in the Sanctuary and maybe a dozen years outside. I’d taught her a few things about combat. She was skilled enough to survive an attack by a few demons.”
Amelie clearly had more questions to ask about Erran, but for now, she held off. The pain was too evident in Jasper’s face to pester him.
Ben stepped next to Amelie and squeezed her arm. She leaned against him briefly. Then they followed behind Jasper to his laboratory. It was untouched.
“Nothing alive to feast on,” grumbled the mage, turning to the main compound.
“What can we do to help?” asked Ben.
A bestial roar tore through the quiet of the compound, startling and interrupting Ben. He spun and saw a dozen demons were streaking through the darkening forest. They were still one hundred paces away but coming fast. Towering behind the others stood the arch-demon. It let its minions race ahead, then, with booming footsteps, charged after them.
“Damn,” barked Jasper. “How did that thing sneak so close!”
Ben felt the whirling of a strong wind building inside his head. He stepped forward, prepared the meet the first wave.
Jasper finally drew his sword. Out of the corner of his eye, Ben couldn’t tell anything special about it, until it burst into flame. Along the length of the blade, a scorching hot, blue flame flickered. The mage’s other hand suddenly ignited as well. The heat from Jasper’s flames kissed the side of Ben’s cheek. He shuffled away from the mage. Jasper didn’t seem affected by the flaming sword or the fire burning on his balled fist. He was focused ahead.
“When they get close,” shouted Ben, “I’ll knock them down with wind. It probably won’t stop the arch-demon, but it will buy us time with the others.”
Jasper grunted in response.
Twenty-five paces and closing. Ben pulled his hand back and waited, the sound of the wind rising to a deafening crescendo. Ten paces and he released the force of a mountain storm. The wind blasted ahead,
picking up and tossing the demons like marbles thrown by a child. They tumbled and rolled back, guttural howls screaming in frustration.
The arch-demon squatted in the face of Ben’s wind and wrapped its wings tight. The wind battered the huge creature, but didn’t knock it down. When the wind died, the arch-demon rose to its full height. It was massive, twice the height of a man. It roared at them, a brutal aural assault. Ben wanted to drop his longsword and cover his ears.
From behind them, a scattering of sparks flew forward. Amelie’s magic, realized Ben. The arch-demon swept a hand through the air and the sparks swirled harmlessly away.
“Nice work, but let me handle this one,” suggested Jasper calmly.
The mage strode forward, not running, but not walking either. He seemed to float across the ground until he was standing in front of the arch-demon. Only half its height, he didn’t look intimidated. His sword and free hand blazed with blue fire. The arch-demon shrieked and brought a heavy clawed hand down on the mage, trying to crush him into the dirt.
Jasper raised his burning hand and the blue fire flared brilliantly. The demon’s fist smashed into the mage’s raised arm. The mage withstood the blow and the demon stumbled backward in confusion, clasping its smoking fist and howling in pain.
Leaping forward, Jasper thrust his burning sword into the demon’s abdomen. Where his blade pierced it, the blue fire ignited. The flames grew on the demon’s body, licking their way up to its chest and down toward its legs. It was scrambling away from the mage now, slapping at itself, trying to extinguish the fire, confused and angered by the pain it was in.
“Whoa,” mumbled Amelie, spellbound at what the mage was doing to the huge arch-demon.
Ben stood transfixed, unable to look away from the arch-demon.
The smaller demons finally recovered and charged forward, rushing to protect their leader. Jasper launched a fistful of the blue fire at the first one, catching it in the face. The fire engulfed its head and it went down shrieking.
“Go help him!” shouted Amelie.
Ben shook himself out of a stupor and ran to help Jasper, though, the man didn’t seem to need it. The arch-demon had fallen to its knees, tearing at its own skin, futilely trying to stop the horrific blue flames that were now covering its entire body. The rest of the demons were swarming around the mage, trying to reach him with outstretched claws. He spun amongst them like a top, veering from side to side, lashing out with his flaming sword as he dodged the demon’s attacks. When one got too close, he’d met it with his flaming hand and the creatures would fall back, wailing in agony.
Ben arrived in time to stab one of the creatures in the back. It was facing the mage and had no idea Ben was behind it. Another demon spun toward him. Ben neatly lopped its head off.
Jasper felled three of them in one blurred motion, spinning around and completing the circle before the first body dropped.
Ben thrust his sword into another distracted demon, lancing deep into its chest. It weakly lifted a clawed hand, but the blow was fatal, and it fell away before it could threaten him.
Jasper tossed a ball of blue fire which exploded around another. Then he turned to face the last remaining creature. Contrary to everything Ben knew about demons, the thing turned and fled.
Jasper sheathed his sword and gestured after it. “Chase that one down. We can’t leave it alive in this valley.”
Grunting, Ben followed orders without complaint. The mage killed an arch-demon with the same ease and confidence he shaved his chin every morning. You didn’t argue with a man like that.
Ben, holding his sword in front of him, ran after the fleeing demon. The thing was fast, faster than him. After summoning the wind in his head, struggling to raise sufficient force after unleashing it so recently, Ben sent it streaking ahead, willing it to race along the pine-needle covered ground. His wind caught the demon from behind and tumbled it head over heels.
In heartbeats, Ben caught up to it. The creature was done running. With a snarl, it scrambled off its back and surged at Ben. Caught by surprise, he jumped back, swinging his sword and cutting deep into a muscled arm.
The demon kept coming, enraged.
Ben scrambled to the side and finally got his footing. The next time the demon came at him, he was ready. He lunged forward to meet its charge, sticking the razor-sharp point of his blade into the beast’s eye, plunging deep into its skull. It fell to the ground, motionless.
Panting, Ben turned to look at his companions. They were both standing there calmly, watching him. Behind them, the flames died out on the bodies of the demons Jasper killed.
The sun sank behind the mountains around them. Under the trees, it was almost as black as the darkest night.
***
Thankfully, none of the human bodies they found were in the main house. The attack must have happened during the day when people were about the property doing chores. Inside the comfortable walls of Jasper’s home, it was easy to ignore what happened outside.
They had started a fire in a large hearth and were sitting around it in comfortable chairs. Jasper was staring morosely into the flames, waiting on a stewpot to boil. The man had whipped the meal together with none of his usual zest for cooking.
A small keg of wine sat between them. Jasper had breached it, not bothering to pound in a tap. Repeatedly, he’d dunked his mug to fill it with the dark red liquid. It was only middling quality, but Ben didn’t have the heart to tell the mage. Also, after finding the torn bodies of Jasper’s friends and battling the demons, any wine was good wine.
“There will be more incidents like this, you know,” remarked Jasper. “All over the north, except they won’t have me, and they won’t have you to defend them. Demons fleeing Northport or coming across fresh will cover the north. More attacks, more slaughter.”
Ben grimaced.
“Lord Rhymer is intending to send out hunting parties,” mentioned Amelie. “They won’t find all of them, but they should be able to thin it out. The individuals can be dealt with.”
Jasper shook his head. “The battle of Northport was just the beginning. The swarms you described, that is terrible, but now that they are dispersed, it will be worse. The swarm we fought today, that could overrun any town within fifty leagues of here. Think about it, they’ll roam unopposed across the northlands. By the time they turn south, they will have fed on the life-blood of thousands. That means larger swarms and more mature arch-demons. Without a concentrated effort to stop them, all of Alcott could be in danger.”
Ben nervously cradled his ale mug. “We know.” He shared a look with Amelie. “There are some details we left out of our story.”
Jasper raised an eyebrow, waiting for Ben to continue.
“We told you we were going to Irrefort to meet our companions, Rhys, who you already guessed, a hunter from Northport who travelled the Wilds with us, and a former mage of the Sanctuary, Lady Towaal. We didn’t tell you about her earlier because, well, she’s from the Sanctuary. We didn’t know how you’d react to that. After seeing Erran today, I think you’ll understand that Towaal has left the Sanctuary and is committed to helping us. I hope you understand at least.”
“I can appreciate why you were cautious,” assured Jasper. His eyes had widened at the mention of Towaal’s name. “Your tale is more, ah, complicated than I initially suspected. You’re right to not trust everyone you meet.”
“There’s something else,” mumbled Ben.
Amelie took up the narrative. “We are not just meeting our friends in Irrefort. We’re also looking for someone. We hope to find a representative of a group called the Purple.”
Jasper frowned and sipped at his wine before responding. “That is an old name.”
“We met someone in Northport who we believe was one of the Purple. The Librarian.” Amelie paused, waiting to see if Jasper would speak up. He didn’t. She continued, “Information we gathered there, well, information Lady Towaal gathered led us to believe that another member of the Pur
ple could be found in Irrefort. We hope to find this person, tell them what happened with the Rift, and ask for their advice. Lady Towaal has something that may help. A key which could have been used to close the Rift, and it can be used to make more of them.”
“You are sure it can create a rift?” asked the mage, sitting forward in his chair.
Ben nodded grimly. They’d seen it. “We are sure.”
Jasper stood and began pacing back and forth in front of the brick hearth, his wine mug swinging as he walked.
“Do you know of the Purple?” Ben asked.
“I do,” responded Jasper. He paused and surveyed the young people. “You two certainly manage to find yourselves in all of the wrong spots.”
“I guess we’re just lucky.” Ben smirked wryly.
Jasper chuckled, breaking the solemnity of the discussion. He downed his wine and filled another.
“Luck, you could call it that,” remarked the mage.
“The Purple,” reminded Amelie.
Jasper sighed. “They’re an old group, and they act like it. Far too stuffy for my taste, but, you’re right. They should be told about the Rift. They’re the ones who created it in the first place, and they would know best how to deal with its closure.”
“Can you tell us what you know of the Purple?” queried Amelie.
Rubbing a hand over his short-cropped hair, Jasper began pacing again. “I wasn’t aware any of them still survived, or I would have attempted contact as soon as I learned about the Rift. If they’re in Irrefort, well, I don’t go there.” The mage sighed and stood at the hearth, looking into the flames. “A long time ago, before the Sanctuary existed in its present form, the world was a dangerous place. Demons roamed freely. People lived in fortified enclaves, city states. They only travelled outside in groups. Contact between the city states was rare and only for limited commerce. There was no coordination or organized resistance to what everyone knew was the real enemy, the demons. Year after year, it only seemed to get worse. More demons, more deaths. Some of the minor city states got overrun.”