The Demon Hunt

by Kris Greene

  “I think I’m gonna upchuck,” De Mona said, covering her mouth and nose with her hand. Being that her nose was twice as sensitive as the others’, the smell was almost overwhelming.

  “This way.” Gilchrest led them farther into the recesses of the tunnel. The stretch before them was completely dark except for tiny lights that appeared once every few yards.

  “I can’t see a damn thing.” Jak held the torch in front of him. A group of rats scrambled out of the tunnel and over his feet.

  “I hate rats.” Gabriel danced around trying to avoid the rodents.

  “Rats plentiful in these tunnels. They get fat from goblins; grateful they are,” Gilchrest said with a smug grin. “Come through here and we reach border of goblin territory.” He urged them into the tunnel.

  The darkness snapped closed behind them like a shutter when the last member of the group had crossed it. Gabriel felt an eerie crawling along his arms as he made his way through the tunnel. A curious rat perched itself on Gabriel’s boot, and he instinctively shook his leg and sent the rat into the stream of sewage. The sound of the rat hitting the water was like thunder in the quiet tunnel, but the sound that followed froze everyone in their tracks. There was a high-pitched whining, followed by two more similar ones, with the last one coming from somewhere not far from them.

  “More rats?” Cristobel turned to De Mona.

  “Either that or someone is running a compactor down here,” De Mona said.

  “Something is coming,” Suitor said nervously.

  De Mona looked down the tunnel. At first all she could see were shadows moving, but soon the eyes were visible. Large red eyes glowing in the darkness and moving toward them. When the shadows crossed one of the tiny lights, De Mona caught a glimpse of the things. The pony-sized rats were hideous in appearance, with oversized heads and bulging eyes. Riding their hairless backs were the scourge of the Iron Mountains.

  The goblin prince, Orden, sat at the head of the table drumming his fingers on the surface impatiently as Titus’s commander and his entourage were shown into the main hall of the fort. He was initially upset that Titus had chosen to send his agents instead of addressing the goblin prince in person, but the message he had sent ahead calmed some of his hostility. Titus had invited Orden to sit in on a secret meeting he had called in the city, and the goblin prince was anxious to see what devious plan his favorite son had up his sleeve this time and how he could benefit from it.

  Flagg had been on pins and needles while he waited for Titus to free him from the clutches of the goblin and the mission he’d been ordered to oversee. The mage’s eyes registered both relief and concern when he saw Riel come in with the soldiers and the covered box trailing him. He didn’t have to see what was in the box to recognize the magic securing it.

  The first thing Riel noticed when he entered the main hall was the stink. He was no stranger to the scent of the rotting dead, but it seemed more concentrated down here. In the corner near the door, several of the largest rats Riel had ever seen fought over the remains of something that could no longer be indentified. The long wooden table that stretched down the middle of the floor was badly scratched and stained with blood, no doubt from one of the goblins’ notorious feeding frenzies. The troupe guarding the covered box was visibly shaken, but Riel’s face remained stern. Not because he wasn’t disturbed about being within the mountains while outnumbered, but because he knew if the goblins picked up on his fear he would be as good as dead.

  “Greetings, mighty Prince Orden.” Riel bowed. “I bring my master Titus’s apologies for his and your conflicting schedules as well as his thanks for extending your hospitalities to our friend.” He motioned toward Flagg.

  “You mean for not killing the worm when your master sent my men off to be slaughtered by the Nimrod, don’t you?” Orden flashed a toothy grin.

  Riel swallowed the lump in his throat. “Yes, the awakening of the Nimrod has taken us all off guard, but not to worry, great prince. With our combined forces under the leadership of Titus we will be victorious.”

  Orden slammed his massive fists on the table, spilling the goblets of wine that had been resting on it. “The goblins have one leader, demon. You’d do well to remember it if you wish to keep your head.”

  Riel lowered his eyes. “Of course, Prince Orden.”

  Orden’s attention went from Riel to his Valkrin bodyguard, who hadn’t so much as budged during his outburst. From behind the golden mask covering her face, her eyes bore into the goblin prince. Orden laughed and addressed Riel, who was still staring at the ground. “Your master must have a very low opinion of you if he has entrusted your life to a traitor.” He spat venomously.

  The Valkrin made to take a step toward Orden, but Riel waved her away. “The traitors among the warrior women have been weeded out and dealt with accordingly. I assure you that all here are loyal to the dark father. But let us not dwell on transgressions of the past, when the future is so bright. As a show of my master’s trust in you, he has sent one of his prized possessions to be safeguarded by the mighty goblins during our stay here.” Riel motioned for the soldiers to bring the box forward.

  Orden watched curiously as the women placed the box on the table. He hadn’t missed how Flagg moved away from the box when they set it down, so he drew his blade in case it was booby-trapped. “And what might that be?”

  For an answer Riel removed the black covering, exposing the glass box beneath, marked with mystic symbols. Leah sat cross-legged on a pillow of satin, dressed in a hooded robe. Her golden eyes stared out from behind the glass venomously at all in the room.

  Orden’s eyes could not hide their hunger. “A sprite?” Even through the box he could smell her sweet flesh and so could the other goblins in the room. They all began to sniff around the box and salivate at the inviting smell of her magical blood. One goblin wandered too close to the box and received a backhand from the Valkrin that sent him crashing into the wall.

  “Keep your distance, dog,” she hissed. The goblin snarled and drew his weapon, but Orden stopped him.

  “This meat is not for you, brother,” Orden told the goblin. “Demon”—he turned to Riel—“your master risks much sending you down here with such a rare gift.” He wiped the drool from his mouth with the back of his hand. To the goblins, the fey were an even greater delicacy than magicians.

  “And I have told him as much, but I’m afraid he has insisted,” Riel said. “There are none more qualified to keep the sprite from harm than the goblins, greatest warriors in all the land. I trust that your men are obedient and fearful enough of you that no harm will come to the girl while she is with you?”

  Orden thought on it. He was having a hard enough time controlling himself in the presence of the sprite, so there was no telling what some of his weaker-willed brothers might attempt when his back was turned. Still, he would risk it rather than admitting to the outsiders that he wasn’t in total control. “Yes, we will keep the little fey from harm. I’ll have Illini see to her personally.”

  “But I am to accompany you to the gathering,” Illini protested.

  “You will do whatever your prince commands,” Orden shot back. “Besides, since Brutus’s murder you are the only one trustworthy enough to guard the girl.”

  “One of your goblins was murdered?” Riel asked curiously. On his way in he had heard the whispers among the guards but was unsure as to what had happened.

  Orden’s eyes narrowed. “Nothing more than a few of our slaves who have forgotten their places in the pecking order.”

  A young goblin appearing in the doorway saved Orden from having to explain further. He was thin with a rodentlike face and oversized front teeth. “My prince.” He dropped to one knee.

  “What is it, Musk, can’t you see that our prince is having council?” Illini asked in an irritated tone.

  “Forgive me, sir, but my pets have reported intruders in the old sewer tunnels,” Musk told him.

  “Then let the riders deal with the
m.” Orden waved him off. “It’s probably more of those fool scavengers who make their homes in the abandoned tunnels. They are a nuisance, but they keep our rats well fed.”

  “The riders are moving to intercept as we speak, but there’s more. One of my rats says that they smelled a demon among them,” Musk said timidly. This got everyone’s attention.

  “Invaders sent by the order?” Riel asked.

  “Not in those tunnels. We hardly use them anymore, but we get the occasional displaced soul that’s been cast from the outside world and foolishly tries to make a home in what we claim as ours. I believe you call them hobos,” Orden said with an amused smirk. “Musk, take some men and assist the riders.”

  “I’ll go with him in case the demon is right and the invaders are a part of the order,” Illini offered.

  “No, if we’ve been breached it’s all the more reason why you must secure the sprite with haste. Musk can have his pick of the men,” Orden told him.

  “I’ll go.” Everyone was surprised to see that it was the Valkrin speaking. “Enemies of the goblins are enemies of us all. I will go with your men.”

  Orden smiled broadly. “Looks like not all of your lot have lost their salt. Very well, if your master has no objections then neither do I.”

  The Valkrin looked at Riel, who seemed to be weighing it. “Go, if you must. I know how your kind loves a good battle, but be swift as we’re expected at the gathering.”

  “I will help the goblins with the intruders and meet you at Raven Wood. I know the way.”

  “Very well, but be quick about it.”

  “As you command.” The Valkrin bowed and followed Musk out of the hall. As they were leaving, two dwarfs came into the room pushing carts that carried serving dishes.

  “Ah, we’ve been so busy I had almost forgotten that I’d ordered my finest cooks to prepare a feast for you,” Orden addressed his guests. He waved the dwarfs forward and they began setting the table, placing a large covered dish in the center. “Please accept this meal as a token of my appreciation for your master Titus and all he has done.”

  “Great, I’m starving,” one of the female soldiers said and helped herself to a seat. Riel gave her a disapproving look, but she ignored him. “What’s on the menu?”

  Orden removed the cover and revealed the traitorous dwarf Alec’s body on the platter. He had been gutted and stuffed with rat tails before they roasted him to a golden brown color. The female soldier pushed away from the table and threw up all over the floor, while Flagg and Riel looked on in total shock at the barbarism of the goblins.

  Orden laughed, ripped off one of Alec’s arms, and tore into it. “Eat up, my friends. There’s plenty more where this came from.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  “Goblins!” De Mona shouted, calling her change. A wave washed over her, hardening her skin and sharpening her fingertips to spearlike points. Moonlight shone in her eyes as she snarled fiercely, ready to engage the attackers.

  “Found us the riders have, die we all will,” Gilchrest said, cringing.

  “Sorry, but I’m not ready to check out just yet.” Gabriel manifested the Nimrod just in time to deflect an arrow that came sailing his way.

  From behind Gabriel a rider came out of the darkness, moving at an alarming speed with his sword poised to take Gabriel’s unsuspecting head. Before he could strike, Cristobel appeared with his ax flying in a high arc. The rider’s momentum carried him directly into the blow and it cost him his head. Never stopping his motion, Cristobel brought the ax around and embedded it in the skull of the mutated rat. Before he could compose himself for another strike, a second rider flung himself from his mount and tackled the dwarf into the river of waste.

  “Cristobel!” Suitor cried.

  “I’ll get him. You guys help De Mona,” Gabriel ordered as he dove into the waste after Cristobel.

  De Mona’s claws tore through the face of one goblin and the belly of another as the frenzy set in. A third went for her head with his sword, but she swiftly ducked it and closed the distance between them. She raked her claws across the goblin’s face, tearing through his eyelid and upper lip and causing him to stumble backward. She tried to take his head off, but the goblin evaded the strike, and De Mona’s claws tore gashes in the stone wall behind him. The goblin drove his blade into De Mona’s gut, failing to break the skin but knocking the wind out of her.

  Before the goblin could take advantage, Jak was on him with his twin blades, launching a series of combinations, but the goblin was able to fend them off. The three blades interlocked as each combatant struggled to gain ground over the other. Unfortunately for the goblin, he was so focused on Jak that he never saw De Mona come up behind him. With a grunt the girl dug her claws into the goblin’s back and ripped out his lungs.

  By the time Gabriel made it down to where the tide had taken Cristobel, the dwarf was flailing about in the water while the larger goblin tried to drown him. Gabriel delivered a bone-crunching kick to the goblin’s lower back to get his attention. The goblin spun on Gabriel with a roar and attacked. Gabriel plunged the Nimrod into the goblin’s side and pushed with everything he had, pinning him to the wall. He expected the blow to kill the goblin, but to his surprise the goblin gripped the shaft of the Nimrod and pulled it free with a grunt. He tossed the Nimrod into the waste and pounced on Gabriel.

  Gabriel was never a very skilled boxer, but he did the best he could, using his forearms to deflect the goblin’s punches. Gabriel tried a roundhouse, but the goblin grabbed him by the ankle and slammed him viciously into the wall, knocking the wind out of him. Gabriel’s limp body slid down the wall and disappeared into the waste. The goblin was peering into the water looking for Gabriel when he heard a splashing behind him. He turned in time to see Gabriel coming at him with the Nimrod. The points of the trident dug into the goblin’s chest with a thud. Gabriel called the power and the Nimrod answered, stretching as it had done in the village and pinning the goblin to the ceiling. Leading with his fists, Gabriel propelled himself upward and knocked the goblin up through the ceiling to the level above the sewers.

  Cristobel rejoined the fight just in time to see Suitor fall to a goblin blade. Seconds later, he avenged the death of his friend by hacking off both of the goblin’s arms before taking his head. A commotion at the end of the tunnel they had come from drew his attention and he saw more riders closing in on them. “We’re trapped!” he called to De Mona.

  De Mona looked around with her brain working overtime, trying to find an escape. Her eyes landed on the hole Gabriel had created in the ceiling and she got an idea. “The hell we are,” she said, pointing out her discovery.

  “It’s at least twenty feet to the top; we’ll never make it before they cut us down,” Jak said, deflecting an arrow that came flying out of the darkened tunnel.

  Gilchrest dodged an arrow that was meant for him and scrambled behind De Mona. “All will die, all will die.”

  “Always the pessimist, aren’t you?” De Mona picked him up.

  “Let go, what you do?” Gilchrest flailed around in her grip.

  “I’m trying to save your life. Now hold still,” she barked. Before Gilchrest could figure out what she was talking about, he found himself shooting up through the hole like a rocket. Once Gilchrest was safe, De Mona turned to the dwarfs. “Circus time, kids.” She cupped her hands at her waist.

  “We don’t even know what’s up there,” Jak said as he nervously placed his foot in De Mona’s hand.

  “Whatever it is has to be better than dying in a sewer,” De Mona said before tossing Jak up through the hole. “Your turn,” she said to Cristobel.

  “I won’t leave you down here, De Mona,” Cristobel said, opening the belly of a lunging rat, spilling its rider into the sewage.

  “I’ll be right behind you,” she assured him.

  Cristobel placed his foot in the cup of her hands and looked at her seriously. “If you’re not topside in five seconds I’m coming back down.”
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  “Then I’ll see you in three and a half,” De Mona told him before shooting Cristobel up through the hole. De Mona crouched and hurled herself upward. She had managed to grip the top of the hole when something snaked around her leg. She looked down and saw a hulk of a goblin holding the end of the whip and pulling her back down. She tried to pull herself free, but he was too strong. De Mona dropped like a stone back through the hole, smashing her head against the ledge before landing in the sewage. Before she could compose herself, she was swarmed by half a dozen goblins.

  Claws, teeth, and blades struck De Mona on every part of her body that she left uncovered. So far her skin had withstood the worst of the damage, but she was taking a hell of a beating and wasn’t sure how long she could hold her demon form.

  She managed to shake the goblins off her, then bounded out of the water and back onto the walkway. She made a mad dash for the hole, but a spiked club to the gut knocked her back down. She dispatched the goblin, but two more immediately took its place. Farther down the tunnel she could hear reinforcements coming. If she didn’t get out of the tunnel ASAP she knew that she was dead.

  A bug-eyed rat lunged from the darkness, narrowly missing her face as she ducked out of the way and split its guts open as it passed. Before she could get back to her feet, another goblin grabbed a fistful of her hair from behind and pulled, leaving her throat open for his comrade’s sword. De Mona reached back to strike out with her claws, but found her arm pinned by another goblin. De Mona could do little more than struggle as the goblins held her suspended, preparing to take her head. Before the final blow fell, she heard a voice call from behind the swarming goblins.

  “She’s mine.” From the crowd stepped the Valkrin who had accompanied Flagg to the Iron Mountains. She was carrying a longsword over her armored shoulder. The Valkrin looked at the helpless De Mona and shook her head. “You were a fool to come here, little one,” the Valkrin said tenderly.