Can it be that I am developing a streak of human-like conscience? In spite of Vagner’s desire to have his freedom, he felt a certain fondness for this mageborn whose personal sacrifice had saved the demon’s life. Granted, he did not care a whit if any of the others came to harm. Then again, he rather liked Etienne…and young Shona, now that he thought about it. It was the Greenfyn that Vagner could do without. More than once, he had been tempted to bite off Fenelon’s head, and as swollen as it was with ego, it would most likely make a satisfying meal.
In fact, he was a bit hungry, now that he thought about it. His last meal had been a few dead Haxons several hours ago. Something warm and alive would have tasted marvelous just now…
And I would guarantee myself an eternity of pain for it, the demon thought. For no matter how forgiving Alaric might be compared to Tane, it was rather certain he would not tolerate the devouring of any he considered a friend. Besides, on his True Name, Vagner had given his word not to eat any that Alaric called friend. For better or worse, that included Fenelon.
Vagner frowned and secretly sniffed the air for other game. He picked up the scent of warm blood from somewhere close by. He smiled. So there was life down here after all.
Alaric suddenly tumbled to his knees, and Vagner lurched around, cursing his own distraction. The others rushed to the young bard’s aid.
“Alaric,” more than one concerned voice chorused.
Etienne knelt before Alaric in a swift motion, pressing her hands to his forehead. “This is not good,” she said. “You need to rest.”
“But the light,” Alaric protested and glanced at Vagner.
Fenelon scoured the area with quick glances. The terrain was no longer level. There were plenty of places for Shadow Kin to hide in these gloomy woods.
“I can hold it for a while,” Fenelon said suddenly, and Vagner felt the power shift so the Greenfyn was wielding the light spell on his own, allowing the demon a short respite.
Etienne nodded. Alaric started to shake his head. “Ronan says we are not far from our destination, and we should keep going,” he said wearily.
“I don’t know that you’re going to make it much farther at this rate,” Etienne said. “Or does Ronan propose to take over your body and push you until you are dead?”
Alaric closed his eyes, and Vagner sensed the other in him grew restless even now. Still, Etienne was right. The little master could not keep going this way.
“Actually, I think you should wait and rest a bit,” the demon said. “Because I’m getting hungry and…”
Four faces turned uncertain glances in Vagner’s direction. He could almost smell the outrage and the hint of fear.
“I wasn’t proposing to eat any of you, if that’s what you’re thinking,” he said in an indignant manner. Then thought, well, any but one.
“Then what are you proposing to eat?” Fenelon asked quite pointedly. “Considering we haven’t seen a single living creature…”
“Just because you don’t see them,” Vagner said and grinned. “Even you mageborn humans have limited senses compared to a demon…
He moved like summer lightning into the trees. Forms burst from the hedges and tangles, small, furry deer-like creatures at a quick glance. One of them stumbled, and Vagner was on it like a raptor. He seized up his prey and returned to the clearing where he was rather pleased to see the startled faces of the travelers when he came back with the stunted, squirming creature clutched in his now massive jaws.
Vagner swallowed it quick and whole, and smiled…
…Until a burning sensation filled his belly with fire. He felt the little creature clawing and kicking until the pain ripped through every nerve. The sensation so frightened Vagner, he heaved and retched until he disgorged the beast. Around him, the others shrieked and shouted. Alaric called out in a voice filled with concern as the strange, stunted deer came up still whole. It hit the ground running on two legs like a man, and only then could it be seen that the fore hooves were actually shaped like hands. The creature tossed a fiendish grin over one shoulder as it fled.
“What in the nine hells was that?” Fenelon cried.
Vagner could only retch and curse for moments. The bitter taste that filled his mouth was enough to make him wish for something sweet.
“Horns, Vagner, are you all right…” Alaric’s hand touched the demon’s shoulder.
“Its flesh was not that of a warm blooded beast. It was cold as a lizard.”
“But what was it?” Fenelon asked.
It was Alaric who spoke. “It was related to a demon,” he said, looking as though he too had bitten something vile.
“Not entirely,” Vagner said as his throat and stomach ceased to pain him. “I have eaten lesser demons to survive. That thing is not all demon.”
“What do you mean?”
“It tasted as though it ate the Blood Apples,” Vagner said. “It actually burned me from within.”
I guess, he thought blandly, I shall have to go hungry a little longer.
All the more reason to find Tane and get out of this place.
~
Alaric wanted to move on, but Etienne refused to let him take another step until his color improved. Ronan’s restless rage surged within Alaric. “We’re so close,” Ronan repeated over and over, and the temptation to shout at the dead bard and order him to be quiet was strong. But Alaric clamped down on the urge. He feared such an outburst would be taken poorly.
He glanced at Fenelon who was draining his own essence to keep the mage lights bright. His face was pinched with the effort, which worried Alaric. If Fenelon found it a strain to hold the spell in the face of the conflicting magic that filled this place, then it must have been a dire place indeed. Almost as bad as being trapped in the void. At least here, Alaric could feel his own magic. In that dreadful hole in the dungeon of that tower, he had been unable to do even that much. Now he knew how mortalborn truly felt.
“But we’re so close. We must push on.” Ronan whispered over and over. “We should not stay here. It is dangerous…”
Alaric was about to ask why when a projectile zinged out of the trees and slammed into the bark of the nearest Black Fir. The crack was like thick pond ice shattering. Shona yelped and dove for cover. Etienne threw herself to her feet to look around for the source of the danger while Alaric felt more impelled to follow Shona’s example. Another projectile shot out of the trees on the higher ground above the clearing and shattered against the trunk as loudly as the first.
“What the…” Fenelon hissed.
“We’ve got company,” Vagner said, and the demon moved protectively towards Alaric.
The higher ground blossomed with motion, and a sound like the rutting whistle of roebucks filled the air. Alaric looked up in time to see a swarm of the stunted deer-creatures charging over the edge. They curled back their lips and revealed that they had fangs. Some carried slings, and stopped long enough to load them and fling a hail of stones on the party’s head. Others carried crude clubs, and waved them as they charged and screamed their battle cry.
“Oh, great!” Fenelon snapped. “It brought back the whole family!”
“Leave the little vermin to me,” the demon hissed, and before Alaric’s eyes, Vagner swelled four times his already massive height. As he grew, he shifted into a wyvern shape. His tail swept across and sent a number of the creatures falling to the ground. But for every abomination the demon crushed or stabbed with his tail barb, there were plenty more. And they seemed impervious to his poison.
Alaric had no time to contemplate more. Battle magic would tire him, and with no source from which to draw power. He jerked his sword free as one of the creatures came at him. Horns, even upright, it stood no taller than his shoulder, but it was quick and danced in and out with far more agility than Alaric could hope to muster. Alaric was forced to dodge, and each stroke of his sword met with naught but air. At least he wasn’t the only one having that trouble. In the moments he was able to glimpse
Fenelon, Etienne and Shona, they brandished their weapons no more gracefully than he. Even Vagner had stopped wasting time with his tail poison and started battering them.
Alaric’s opponent became two, forcing him to flee more than fight. Light headed as he was, he felt the urgency of the danger enough to want to run.
“I told you we should not have stayed!” Ronan’s thought rang in Alaric’s head. “I told you this place would be dangerous…”
You could have warned us they might be here, Alaric thought in retort. He parried as best he could when his attackers backed him into a corner formed by the roots of one of the massive firs. He fell against the icy bark, and could feel the cold rapidly seeping through his multiple layers of clothes. And his cloak froze fast to the surface, hampering him even more.
“Duck!” Alaric heard Vagner shout, and he did, even though it meant abandoning the warmth of the cloak. The demon’s tail slammed down on both creatures from above, flattening them. A third rushed Alaric, now on the ground trying to ignore the stench of the crushed pair. Vagner’s tail swung around again, this time catching up the creature around its middle and slamming it into the tree just above Alaric’s head.
He heard a fearsome cracking noise and clambered to his feet. The blow had shattered the ice-cold tree as though it were glass, and it began to separate, showering Alaric with chunks of icy, brittle wood. He had no choice but to run, and as he did, he shouted, “Timber!”
Shona turned from the act of cracking one of the creatures with her staff, and froze at the sight of the giant fir toppling towards her. Alaric caught her as he fled, practically wrenching her off the ground over one shoulder in order to haul her to safety. They barely cleared the path before the giant tree crashed to the ground. The mighty truck crushed a number of the deer-creatures before they could flee.
And just when Alaric stopped and let Shona go, he heard the ominous tinkle of many panes of glass being broken. The first tree struck another as it fell, and that one shattered and tumbled as well. All at once, the magnitude of the effect became clear.
“Run!” Fenelon shouted.
Alaric did, clinging to Shona’s hand for fear of losing her in the chaos. They ran away, mages and creatures alike, striking for the hillside as tree upon tree collapsed and brought down others. Most of them seemed to be tumbling into the little clearing the party had previously occupied, but a few fell outward instead. Some of the creatures resorted to four legs and scrambled away with terrified screams. Alaric and Shona stayed together, making for the crest of the hill, rushing over it only to slide to a halt.
What faced them now was a sheer drop into a dark green valley cut by a river. Behind them, trees continued to crash and fall. Alaric turned back and saw that the destruction was heading their way, and the only escape was a leap that would certainly kill them…
But suddenly, Vagner was there. He seized up the pair without so much as a “may I,” and dove over the rim.
Alaric thought his stomach had already taken the leap ahead of him.
Shona squealed with a mixture of fright and delight.
Then the demon gathered them close and soared upward like a giant bird.
“Where are Fenelon and Etienne?” Alaric shouted.
The demon swung back around towards the rim. Trees had finally ceased to fall. A few tumbled down the sheer face into the valley below.
But of Etienne and Fenelon, Alaric saw no sign.
FIFTY TWO
Vagner wheeled over the site of the destruction, making several passes at Alaric’s command, and still no sign of Fenelon or Etienne could be found. The demon sensed Alaric’s distress growing, and worried that without Etienne’s knowledge of healing, he would make himself ill.
“They’ve got to be here,” Alaric said after the fifth pass. He closed his eyes, and Vagner felt the stretch of mage senses. But even the demon could find no sign of life. As if the earth had opened up a void and swallowed them whole.
Perhaps it did, he thought. The ground up on this rim had a peculiar composition, and while Tane’s presence below was a faint glimmer the demon sensed from time to time, the life essence he associated with Fenelon and Etienne was gone. But then, the demon also knew that whatever bred the ancient magic that lie in the ground, it had designed the grids of power to do just that. Repel any attempt to penetrate it from beyond.
What does it shield? the demon pondered. A mere sword? An artifact of power? Just what secrets were buried in the heart of this strange world beneath the ice?
“Go around again,” Alaric ordered, and Vagner was tempted to tell him the results would remain unchanged; that neither Fenelon nor Etienne would be there. Besides, Vagner could sense the “other” in his little master was growing restless. And Alaric was weakening.
But demons bound by their True Names could only obey, no matter how onerous or useless the task might seem.
So he swept back around to make another pass over the now-flattened copse of broken, frozen trees.
~
Though Alaric pushed his mage senses as far as he could, he felt nothing of Fenelon or Etienne. How could that be? he thought as he wearily scanned the wreckage of broken glazed chunks of wood and the remnants of the deer creatures who had not been fortunate enough to escape. Horns, but they stank in death, as though blood and bone and fiber were born of some rot.
“Is it what they are,” Ronan said. “They are more than just a perverse sort of demonkin. They are hatred and destruction and all the wretchedness that rots in men’s souls. In the time of Na’Sgailean, they ran these valleys by the thousands. The early Haxons called them trolls and Dokkalfar, and said they were the evil cousins of the Hidden Folk.”
Trolls, Alaric thought. Somewhere in his memory, he had learned a song about trolls. How they carried the wickedness of the world in their blood and marrow.
“Where could they be?” Shona said softly, her voice hinting to Alaric that she was close to tears.
Alaric sighed. “I don’t know, but we must not give up until we find them.”
“Fool!” Ronan suddenly snarled. “We’ve no time for sentimentality!”
“We have time,” Alaric said through gritted teeth.
“What?” Shona said, tearing her eyes away from the search to glance at him.
“We have none!” Ronan retorted sharply enough to make Alaric wince. “Tane is getting close to his destination, and it will not be long before he has the Dragon’s Tongue, and then it will not matter whether you find their corpses or not!”
Alaric put his hands over his ears as though that very act had the power to stop Ronan. “They can’t be dead!” he shouted so loudly, his voice boomed off the rocks and echoed across the lower valley.
“Alaric?” Shona said and reached over to touch his hand. “Please, stop. You’re frightening me…”
He did stop, and looked at her wan face, her eyes swimming with tears. “I’m…I’m sorry,” he said. “Ronan was…”
“Oh…” She swallowed. “I forgot about him.”
“I wish I could,” Alaric said with a sigh.
The heat of Ronan’s anger flared inside him. “Forget me not!” the bard chided. “We have a duty. Tane must not reach the Dragon’s Tongue!”
Alaric closed his eyes. How can I go on or even care without knowing whether or not Fenelon and Etienne lived or died? he thought.
Ronan heaved a long sigh, and his anger lessened. “If it is any consolation, the sudden, violent death of a mageborn always leaves its mark. Their last moment would have released that essence so you could find it easily enough, even in this perverse place.”
Alaric blinked and looked at Shona. “Do you feel their deaths?” he asked.
She looked puzzled for a moment before realization burnished her features. Shona shook her head and whispered, “No.”
“Neither do I. Which means they could be alive.”
“And they could be off looking for us,” Shona said.
It was a hope, Alaric would
admit.
“Then that settles it, and it is now up to us four to stop Tane,” Ronan said.
“Four?” Alaric blurted. “We are three, Ronan, and you are dead and…”
He caught the look Shona now wore. She pursed her lips. “If you plan to start talking to yourself in public, Alaric Braidwine,” she said, “I may have to have second thought about courting you.”
His face flushed. “I was talking to Ronan,” he said.
“And who is going to believe that…besides myself and poor Vagner here?” she asked.
“Right,” Vagner said emphatically.
It’s a conspiracy, I swear, Alaric thought.
“Conspiracy or not, we need to go on,” Ronan said. “Once we have stopped Tane, we can come back and search for them at our leisure.”
All right, Alaric thought, then glanced up at the demon. “Vagner, let’s go on.”
“Are you sure?” the demon asked.
“We’ve got to stop Tane,” Alaric said. “We’ll come back for them when we are done.”
He looked at Shona, half expecting her to protest. Grim-faced, she nodded.
~
“Damn that idiot demon!” Fenelon said and pushed against the wall of stone now blocking the cavern entrance. This fissure in the hillside had proven a fortuitous place to flee at the time, and Etienne had to admit a certain sense of gratitude for its presence. The thought of being crushed under a great weight of frozen wood lacked appeal.
But the collapse of the trees had blocked the most immediate and obvious way out. And as she held up a faint glim of mage light that would not drain her mage essence, she could not help but worry about Shona and Alaric. Please, Blessed Lady of the Silver Wheel, let them be all right, she thought.
“I’ll shove his tail barb down his throat when I get out of here!” Fenelon added and slapped the stone wall of their prison, only to hiss when pain burned him.
Dragon's Tongue: Book One of the Demon-Bound Page 40