by Dave Gross
Other gangs of demons encountered the city natives. A pack of leucrottas harried a beak-faced brute until the demon stood its ground and tore one of its attackers to pieces. The remaining leucrottas fled until they ran into a pair of wolf-headed fiends whose scythe-like claws chopped them to gobbets.
Two of the plant creatures we had seen lumbering through the city dragged a feathered but wingless demon into marshy ground near the northern lake. Swarms of wasps covered all four wings of a serpentine demon until they plunged together onto the balcony of a nearby manor house. Elsewhere, the one-eyed giant fought in vain against a rabble of brimoraks. The demons left its broken body and smoldering tracks in their wake.
Arnisant barked. I turned to see him dashing toward us from the direction of Variel's manor. Behind him, Variel conjured a whirlwind with a shake of his staff. Nearby, Fimbulthicket blew on the surface of a fountain. A waterspout rose to join a pair of earthen hulks following the gnome. The druids sent their minions down to harry the horde which they could never alone defeat.
Zuldanavox had not been idle in defense of her home. After pouring clouds of acid over the demons breaching the southern gates, she conjured her own defenders. Elemental spirits shook the trees to the west, tossing lesser demons into the air and blasting fliers out of the sky.
A pair of tarry-skinned demons plunged into the southern lake. The water's surface rose up, and a gray-green behemoth emerged with a croak that shook leaves from the dome high above. A two-headed demon struggled in the grip of a slimy tentacle. A bat-faced fiend took to the sky, only to be caught by the great beast's sticky tongue. Both vanished into the monster's colossal maw.
"Why are the spires gone?" said Oparal.
The question gnawed at me as well, but I could not give it the consideration it demanded. A glance at Kemeili and Caladrel revealed nothing.
"Can you raise them?" Caladrel asked. "Can they keep more demons from entering the city?"
"Not so long as they have—" I choked on Radovan's name "—that gate inside the dome. It pains me, but we must destroy it."
Kemeili shook her head. "We could never fight our way through so many demons."
She was obviously correct. Despite the tendency for the horde to scatter, a hardened core of their forces remained around their gruesome gate.
"I knew he was dangerous from the moment I laid eyes on him," said Oparal.
"Shut up." Kemeili glared at the paladin with such ferocity that Oparal's eyes widened and her mouth clamped shut.
"We must at least cut off the reinforcements that enter through the wall." Even as I said so, fiery explosions struck three spots along the dome. I prayed the vines were not a necessary component of the wards.
"I'll go to the spires with you," said Caladrel. "The others can fend off the demons here."
"No," I said. "This is the worst time to divide our forces. Zuldanavox and her minions must suffice to defend the city while we go down together."
"We can't abandon the field to the horde," Oparal said as Variel and Fimbulthicket arrived.
"How did this happen?" Variel looked to me for an answer I did not have.
Theories involving Radovan's fiendish heritage spun in the firmament of my imagination. "There is no time to speculate. We must reactivate the spires. How long will it take?"
"Not long, if we work together." He thought a moment and said, "In theory."
"Where's the city's aiudara?" said Caladrel. "There must be one."
"We must activate the spires to reach it," I said. Anticipating Variel's admonishment, I added, "The time for caution is over. We need reinforcements."
"Your son is right, Lord Variel," said Caladrel. "You know it's true."
A trumpeting cry sounded across the city. Zuldanavox glided low over the southern districts, a growing band of winged fiends in pursuit. She arched her wings to stall her flight, allowing them to close the distance. Just before they reached her, she dived to glide just above the ground forces and lay down a thick green trail of corrosive mist. Her pursuers plunged in, heedless of the danger. The few that emerged left trails of blood and lost limbs in their wakes.
"She is holding her own," I said.
Variel nodded, a shadow of uncertainty falling away from his eyes. He had made his decision. "This way to the plinths."
We set off at a jog, pausing only when Variel pointed to a spot two streets ahead. "There's an access to the aqueducts nearest the inner ring."
We ran barely three steps before Oparal exclaimed, "No, not now!"
I traced her gaze to the southwest. Through the foliage by the lake surged a vanguard of demons. They whooped as they pursued their quarry: the gray unicorn.
The unicorn leaped a rotting log. The marshy ground sucked at its hooves. An ogrish demon rushed forward, its bony fingers reaching for the beast's tail. The unicorn kicked backward, knocking it into a pair of smoking brimoraks. More demons piled over the fallen, their eyes afire with bloodlust.
Oparal shouldered her shield and raised her holy sword.
"Wait!" said Variel. "Stay with us."
Ignoring him, she ran as fast as her heavy armor permitted. Her blade sang louder as she closed with the demons."
"Crazy Forlorn—!" began Kemeili.
"Let her go," said Caladrel. "We must get to the aiudara."
Tactically, he was correct. In other circumstances, I might have agreed. But as I saw more demons scent the unicorn and join the chase, I thought of what they had done to Radovan. I would not allow another ally to fall into their clutches.
"Come with me!" I ran after Oparal, sword in hand and Arnisant at my side.
"She's not worth it," complained Kemeili, but she ran only a few steps behind me. Fimbulthicket lagged behind, but only for a moment before casting a spell speeding his pace.
Caladrel soon outpaced me, shooting arrows as he ran. Every one of his motions was so swift, so economical and precise. I was glad to have him at my side.
Within seconds I knew we would not arrive in time. No spell that I had inscribed on my scrolls could reach so far.
Variel's Green magic was not so limited. His deep-throated chant grew louder as we ran. He swung his staff in an arc above his head, a glowing nimbus forming at its head. The same witchlight played along the ground beneath the unicorn's hooves.
The nimble beast leaped ahead, but its pursuers foundered in muck that had been solid ground an instant earlier. A few paused to hurl spells after the fleeing unicorn, which shied away from venom and flame with the skill of a veteran warrior.
More demons clambered over the sinking bodies of the first wave, pushing them deeper into the muck before sinking with them. A third wave did the same, but the fourth ran over the bodies of the fallen.
Caladrel slew a few more brimoraks, and the unicorn appeared to have escaped. Its freedom lasted only for a moment. A condor-demon hurtled down to tackle the beast by the neck. The unicorn tumbled to the ground in the fiend's embrace.
Oparal ran to them. "Get off—!" A demon fell upon her, too swift for anyone to cry out a warning. Oparal fell, but only for a moment before rising to grapple with the fiend. Her sword lay on the ground, its radiance fading for lack of her touch.
The demons intercepted us before we could reach her. Kemeili threw a handful of darts and loosened her whip. I prepared to defend the line.
"Back!" cried Variel. With another wave of his staff, he conjured a wall of thorns between us and the demons.
"No!" Even as I protested, I saw that he had been right to cut our losses. There were far too many demons to fight. They thrust their bodies through the barrier, heedless of the wounds they inflicted on themselves. They feared their own pain far less than they craved ours.
On the other side of the wall, Oparal and the unicorn vanished under piles of fiends. They were not even close enough to defend each other. I uttered a prayer for their swift release—and then a dreadful silence blew across the field. I felt it as a sudden change in air pressure and looked arou
nd for the source.
A blast of wind flattened us. It uprooted Variel's bramble wall and cast its million thorns across the city. I heard the muted roar of Zuldanavox in the distance. As I tumbled helplessly across the battlefield, I glimpsed a bat-winged woman thrown against a pair of giant thorns in the dome ceiling.
I tried to rise, but a second blast threw me to my knees. Arnisant butted my side and stood close as I clung to him for support.
All around, demons and elves alike stood, shaking confusion from their skulls. Turning toward the origin of the blast, I saw a shower of gore descending on the spot last occupied by the demons bearing Radovan's body. One of them retained the bottom half of his pole, the wood blackened, its tip glowing red.
The demon stared stupefied at the glowing tip of the truncated staff as a dark shape rose behind it. A huge spearpoint pierced the flabbergasted demon's breast.
Not a spear, I realized, but a long hand with razor sharp talons. What had appeared like a spearhead opened like a blossom, revealing the demon's still-beating heart in a big fiendish hand. It crushed the heart to pulp before jerking back out through the demon's corpse.
The new fiend rose to its full height, easily nine feet from its spurred heels to the top of its plated head. Mottled gray chitin covered its lean body, except at the inner joints where angry red flesh pulsed under the armor. A massive scorpion's tail curved behind its body, its heavy barb dripping venom onto its own shoulder.
The fiend's head jerked back as it shied away from the poison smoking on its armor. It whipped around like a dog chasing its tail, neck craning to see the elusive member. What appeared to be vestigial mandibles twitched to either side of a wide maw over-filled with sharp but irregular teeth. I could not hear its words, but I could read them on its lips.
Desna weeps. Not a goddamned tail!
The fiend turned, but not toward me. The centipedal demon-priestess reared up, spitting her own venom while brandishing the weapons still stained with Radovan's blood. The fiend showed her a big smile, and I knew for certainty that this new fiend was somehow Radovan reincarnate.
His tail struck a sword from the demon-priestess's hand. She struck back, but his claws grasped two of her wrists. He broke both arms with a single shake before biting off the third. Before she could complete an arcane gesture with her remaining hands, he used his claws to return the favor of his evisceration.
"Radovan!" The scorpion-devil ignored me in favor of savaging the corpse of his fallen foe. The awful sight shook my confidence in his identity. "Radovan?"
Caladrel grabbed my shoulder. "What do you mean, 'Radovan'?!"
I saw the same question written on the faces of Kemeili and Variel. "That is no demon. That is Radovan in a devil's body. You must trust me on this point."
Kemeili shook her head in disbelief, but then she cried, "Oparal!"
That paladin had shoved away the bodies of her attackers after the blast stunned them all. One eye was swollen closed, but the other blazed with golden light as she clutched the symbol of Iomedae emblazoned on her breastplate. The divine radiance surged through her body. She reached for her fallen sword, but a demon stamped its hoof upon the blade. An instant later, the fiend howled in pain as the holy sword seared its foot. Oparal pushed it down and bent to grasp the sword. Her fingers were inches away when a pair of tusked demons barreled into her, knocking her away from her blade.
"Go to her," I said. "Arnisant and I will fetch Radovan."
"You said to stay together," protested Caladrel. "Besides, it looks like he's coming."
Radovan's half-insectile head turned in Oparal's direction. His face contorted in disdain, and I could have sworn I saw steam emerge from the narrow slits above his jaws. He leaped toward her, each stride covering yards.
Caladrel raised his bow. "He doesn't look like he wants to help her."
"That's not Radovan," said Kemeili.
"It is Radovan," I assured her. Nonetheless, I ran toward Oparal.
A burly demon with a wolf's head on its shoulders and a grotesque mockery of a dwarf's face upon its chest rushed to intercept me. I pretended not to notice until it came within range. I stepped aside, sweeping the keen edge of the Shadowless Sword across its lupine throat even as Arnisant crashed into the demon's crooked legs. We left it there, burbling curses as it clutched its wounds.
Behind us, Variel sang the trees to action. Half a dozen pulled up their roots and staggered toward the demons, joining the elementals the druids had already sent into the fray.
"Varian!" Kemeili's whip cracked as she shouted warning. She tripped a brimorak approaching me from behind and pulled it to the side, where two quick strokes of my blade dispatched it.
With a crash, Radovan landed nearby. He grabbed a pair of brimoraks by the scruff and pulled them off of Oparal. He smashed their skulls together before dropping their lifeless corpses and reaching down for more.
With Arnisant on one side and Kemeili on the other, I fought my way toward them. Caladrel thinned the nearby horde with such alacrity that I began to worry he would run out of arrows. Variel directed his marching trees to protect our sides, while Fimbulthicket dispatched more earth and air elementals into the fray.
Radovan flung away the last of the demons attacking Oparal. He looked down at her with such intense hatred that I feared I had been mistaken—that this was not my friend, but some great demon whose awful presence destroyed the gate as he passed through it. He grabbed Oparal by the breastplate and pulled her up. As she rose, her eyes flashed with defiant anger, and she thrust her dagger into his belly.
"No, no, no!"
The blade slid ineffectually against the chitin on the fiend's stomach. She drew back her arm for another strike, but the fiend—Let it be Radovan! I prayed—grasped her arm. I winced, thinking of what I had seen him do to the demon-priestess.
The fiend lowered its head to put its face within inches of Oparal's. "Knock it off," he said. The voice was all wrong, but there was no mistaking the cadence of Radovan's speech. "Before I decide I don't want to be such a good guy anymore."
Oparal must have recognized Radovan in the fiend as well. Her jaw dropped, and she stepped back—not in fear but in amazement. She staggered, woozy from the beating she had suffered. She shook her head, suddenly alert.
"Where is the unicorn?"
Caladrel grimaced, pointing past our small army of trees and elementals. A mound of demons scrabbled among themselves over the unicorn's broken body.
"No!" Oparal stepped back, tripping until Radovan caught her by the arm. "My fault."
"Call to him!" said Variel. He moved to stand beside her, eyeing Radovan with trepidation.
"How can he escape those demons?"
"Accept him, you fool!" said Kemeili. "He's offered himself to you."
Oparal reached toward the unicorn. "Please, don't die because of me. I accept you, if you will still have—"
The demons fell over each other, squabbling over the sudden empty space where the unicorn had been. Their heads swiveled in our direction. I braced for the inevitable attack and sensed Caladrel raising his bow beside me. Before either of us could unleash a spell or arrow, Radovan loosed a deafening roar and charged the demons.
"What is he doing?" cried Fimbulthicket. "There are too many. They'll slaughter him!"
Radovan leaped, hurtling twenty yards into the thick of the mob. His huge claws tore a pair of brimoraks to pieces while his barbed tail struck again and again into the thick of the pack. By the time he ripped a wicked fork out of the hands of a three-headed equine demon, the mob began to scatter. The devil chased after them, catching a few and breaking them across his barbed knee.
"Remind me to be nicer to Radovan," murmured the gnome.
The mangled body of the unicorn appeared on the ground before Oparal. Its wounds were beyond mortal. Every leg broken, its heart and lungs exposed through the rents in its hide. It gave no sign of life except for its eyes, which yearned back in their sockets for one last glimpse of
the paladin.
Chapter Twenty
The Seventh Spire
Radovan
By the time I got back from chasing demons, Oparal was weeping over the unicorn. It was obvious the big fellow wasn't going to make it. Everybody else stepped away, as afraid of her tears as they were of me.
They all looked so tiny and breakable. The way they turned away as I came close was damned irritating. Rude, even. Even Arnisant shied off when I reached out to pat his head. What that dog needed was a good smack across the jaw.
That wasn't right. I clenched my fists, trying to squeeze away the heat I felt in my belly. Knock it off, Viridio. I know that's you in there.
There was no answer. My other demon never talked to me either. That was probably a good sign. They might ride me around, but they couldn't control me. If a short temper was the best they could do, then I had nothing to worry about.
While the others decided how to deal with Oparal, I kept an eye out for more demons. I'd run off the nearest ones, but plenty more ran riot through the city. They'd spread out through all six districts, busting open sealed buildings or scrapping with the critters that lived under the dome. Will-o'-wisps lit up all over the place, flashing white, yellow, and red as they soaked up all the fear. Mood I was in, I could give them more than they could stomach.
The dome was burning in six or eight places. Where it wasn't on fire it was crawling with fiends of all shapes and sizes: ape-armed demons swinging vine to vine, giant bugs with human faces crawling over the towers, and skeletal birds watching for prey from their perches in the dome. On the ground, more demons were tearing in through the vine wall, which didn't seem as strong as it had before. Turning off the gate they'd made of me wasn't going to be enough. We had a whole damned horde pouring in from somewhere else. The Witchbole, I guess.
Only how'd they know to be here? I smelled a rat in our little group of elves.
It was making me antsy, this waiting around. Sure, we had a moment to breathe, but everybody was standing around like they didn't know what to do next.