by Phil Stern
Karot’s man was sprawled out on the flagstones nearby, quite dead. Many other casualties were also strewn about, in various states of distress. All in all, someone had struck a heavy blow at the very center of Donlon’s imperial power.
Indeed, it was only Karot’s robust demon powers that had kept his own body alive. Shaking off a sharp blow to the head, the old Lord carefully snapped broken bones back into place along his right leg and left arm. The damage to key internal organs was also mending at a fantastic rate, soon leaving the old boy none the worse for wear.
The witch? The damn rebels? Whatever the case, a bomb such as this must have been set off by hand. Which means they couldn’t have gotten far.
Scooping up his heavy cane and top hat, the octogenarian demon strode off in the direction of the Treasury House. If a bomber wanted to stand at a relatively safe distance and drink in their vile handiwork, that would be as good a place as any.
*****
By the stone, the Coven had found her here in Donlon! Relishing the exhilarating sensation of an approaching earth stone, Caylee confidently avoided the first bobby’s overhand strike. Easily disarming her attacker from the side, she then tossed him to the ground while magically sweeping the feet out from underneath the next man.
The third officer fired into her chest at point blank range, but the rounds bounced harmlessly off her magical shield. Rushing forward, the sorceress punched him in the jaw while kicking out a knee. Grabbing his billy on the way down, she then launched a two-hand stick combination on the first two bobbies, who’d once more joined the fray. In moments all three men were fleeing back across the smoky square, bruised but otherwise unharmed.
By this point Caylee’s unknown Coven-mate was almost within Highsmith Square. Relieved, the young sorceress turned to the right, defenses relaxed.
*****
Without breaking stride, Jenla dashed between the Treasury House and the next building, soon coming out into the far corner of Highsmith Square itself.
Obviously some kind of bombing had just taken place. Wounded people staggered about, while smoke and haze still covered most everything. Whistles and alarms cut through the air in a mindless cacophony, while the local police helplessly rushed around.
Such scenes were all too familiar, Jenla having witnessed similar devastation following a dozen demon strikes in other dimensions. This was the first step in their standard destabilization phase, where the fiends terrorized a population before taking over key individuals and positions. Today’s casualties were merely the initial chapter in a long story of death and devastation.
A flash of blonde hair to the left snagged Jenla’s attention. Caylee herself was standing near the interior corner of the Treasury House some twenty feet away, armed with two truncheons. The demon-witch had presumably just beaten three bobbies, who were now in full retreat.
Even up close the blonde monster’s magical output remained spotty. Still, even as the battered policemen scrambled away, Caylee confidently turned to confront this unknown threat. Before those terrifying silver eyes squarely focused on her, Jenla knew she must act.
With a mighty magical leap, the sorceress from the future launched herself across the intervening space. Landing right before her old opponent, Jenla’s flaming Coven Stick was already coming down on the presumed demon’s head.
*****
Once more, instinct and reflexes saved Caylee’s life. Lithely stepping aside, one of the truncheons flashed out to sharply rap the back on her assailant’s gloved hand. The other crunched squarely into the back of her knee, while a forward elbow strike connected with the other girl’s nose. The strange sorceress staggered backwards, almost losing a grip on her Coven Stick.
Yet Caylee didn’t press the attack. “Stop!” she yelled, absurdly holding up both hands. “I’m on your side!”
*****
Enraged, Jenla felt the blood streaming down her face. Well, that’s what you get for being clumsy and rushing an approach.
But now she was in an exposed position. Obviously Caylee had been playing magical possum, drawing her in for an easy kill. Adding insult to injury, the demon-witch was now busy pretending to be fully human.
Well, bullshit would only take you so far. Gathering herself, Jenla once more rushed forward.
*****
With no time to think, Caylee sent a pulse of comforting magical energy straight into the other girl’s Coven Stick. Gathering every ounce of power at her disposal, she simply instructed the fearsome magical weapon to deactivate.
The Coven Stick obediently reverted to it’s natural state, shrinking back into a simple greenish-iron rod. Stunned, the other girl stupidly let it slip from her hands. Promptly tripping over it, the attacking sorceress tumbled right into Caylee’s midriff.
If she’d wanted to, Caylee could have finished the other girl before she had a chance to recover. Instead, she simply held on for dear life, hoping her Coven-mate would come to her senses. In the process both billy clubs clattered down to the flagstones near the inert Coven Stick.
But it didn’t work. Enraged, the brunette enchantress expertly launched a rapid high-low combination, knocking Caylee away and off balance. A final, heavy blow to the stomach sent her tumbling to the ground.
Laying on her back, all the wind rushing from her lungs, Caylee was unprepared for the sharp punch to the nose. Almost like some old Earth cartoon, stars began swirling about. Crushing down on top of her, the attacking sorceress raised a gloved-fist for another devastating blow.
At the last possible moment, though, a strange gloved hand reached out to firmly grab her assailant’s cocked fist. Wrenching the girl’s whole arm up and to one side, Tiffany Smith bodily flung her off of Caylee’s prostrate body.
“By the stone, Jenla!” Tiffany yelled, amid the whistles, smoke, and still-collapsing masonry of post-bombing Highsmith Square. “What the fuck are you doing?”
*****
As Jenla staggered back and tripped down to the flagstones, Sarina saw that it was indeed Caylee underneath her. Physically the neophyte sorceress seemed generally all right, merely sporting a bloody nose and ripped clothes. Magically speaking her signature was oddly subdued, especially for someone who’d just been in a fight.
Letting Tiffany deal with the immediate issue, Sarina coolly turned about and scanned the area. Chaos still reined in the government sector, with bystanders, police, and now quaint old horse-drawn fire pumps cantering all about. Whistles and alarms came from every direction, while a short distance off several men seemed to be unlimbering a Gatling gun.
Obviously, it was time to go. Amid all the confusion, it should be easy for the four of them to...
A tall man purposefully strode from the rapidly-clearing smoke right in front of her. Dressed in an exquisite Victorian-era suit, with a fine cane and an imposing top hat, his regal bearing obviously marked him as a Donlon lord. Though clearly advanced in years, his considerable age was oddly belied by a vigorous gait and imperious manner.
The sorceress and demon locked gazes for the merest moment. Stiffening, the old dandy raised the cane slightly, as if preparing to use it as a cudgel. In so doing, his eyes blazed out in malignant silver.
Sarina didn’t hesitate. Having already prepared a dimensional-appropriate template, her Coven Stick smoothly transformed into an oversized, nineteenth century shotgun. Even as the demon took a step towards her, the witch promptly blasted him with both barrels of magically-tinged buck shot.
*****
It was as if a cannon had gone off just behind her. Spinning about, Tiffany immediately noted Sarina’s fearsome weapon and combat stance, along with the fallen lord. Pumping pure energy into her magical shield, she protectively stepped before the still-prostrate Caylee.
Shaking his patrician head, the shotgunned man sat up on the ground. Through freely bleeding from dozens of individual chest wounds, he merely glanced down in annoyance. Making to rise once more, gnarled hand propped on the blood-splayed flagstones, tangib
le waves of rage and heat rose from his body like some vile, malignant steam.
As with Sarina, she didn’t stop to ask questions. Gliding forward to stand beside her Coven-mate, Tiffany’s Coven-stick became an old-school, double-barreled ball-firing pistol. At that range both rounds hit home with terrible effect, nearly ripping Lord Karot’s neck and shoulder apart.
*****
George was on the very periphery of Highsmith Square when the bomb went off. Racing about, choking on smoke and little bits of flaming paper drifting all over, he desperately dashed all around in search of the damnable witch.
Nearly giving up hope, the demon finally ranged along the far corner by the Treasury House. Angrily swiping at a last bit of smog while shoving aside two bobbies trying to club anyone within reach, he was finally confronted by a terrible sight.
Not one, but two witches stood before a desperately wounded Karot. Both held powerful magical weapons in the guise of local armaments. A third witch, after first scooping up a similar armament from the ground, now stepped around the other two. Her weapon smoothly converted into an ultra-modern laser rifle, which she then utilized to blast both Karot, and his controlling demon, into oblivion.
Spinning about, clutching at his chest, George felt a very un-demon-like wave of panic. Their worst fears were now realized! The Coven was here in force, publically executing any demons in their path. Soon, all of Donlon would be overrun.
A loud clank to one side from the unlimbered Gatling gun spurred him into action. Dashing up behind the cumbersome, mounted weapon, he flung aside two bobbies and slammed off the safety.
*****
As a Coven operative for the past decade, Tiffany Smith had seen plenty of strange and shocking things. But watching Jenla nonchalantly incinerate the top half of the demon’s body with a laser rifle, in the middle of a frantic Victorian-era public square, might be the oddest. The inherent surrealism of the whole thing was only compounded by her off-hand demeanor, as if she were merely cleaning up a minor spill.
“Well, that takes care of that.” Casually shouldering her laser rifle, Jenla nodded down at Karot’s mangled lower body. “You have to burn the heads, or they jump hosts.”
“Good to know,” Tiffany sighed. “Though the Victorian era generally didn’t feature laser rifles.”
“You’re worrying about cross-dem contamination now?” Expertly opening the breach, Sarina popped in two more magically-tinged shotgun shells. “Nice work there, Jenla.”
“You as well.” Glancing back, Jenla dispassionately watched Caylee sit up, tears and blood streaming down her face. “I take it, then, that she’s not a demon yet?”
“Let’s find out.” Tiffany fully turned around, stepping towards her younger Coven-mate. “Cover us.”
“Listen, we have to go,” Sarina urged. “There may be more...”
“I know. Just a menlar.” Reaching Caylee in a dozen steps, she roughly yanked the young blonde to her feet. “Are you injured?”
“What? No, not really.” Visibly shaking, the dazed girl pointed at Jenla. “She attacked me!”
“Relax. She thought you were possessed by one of those demon things.” Staring into Caylee’s eyes, Tiffany confirmed that she was indeed fully human. “Why is your earth stone so weak?”
“I don’t know!” Nearly stamping her foot in frustration, Caylee fully pulled the magical talisman out from underneath her shirt. “It’s been this way for two weeks!”
“Look, we’ll fix it later. I promise.” More whistles and clattering horses came from both within and outside the square. With the smoke now lifting, it was obviously time to go. “But right now we need to find cover.”
“How did you get here anyway?” Glancing all about, Caylee seemed to be looking for someone. “I haven’t found a Boundary portal anywhere!”
A lone pistol shot rang out, deflecting off Sarina’s magical shield with an ugly whine. “Tiffany, we need to go,” she called out, even while raising the shotgun once more. “Now!”
“Go on.” Tiffany gently pushed Caylee towards the gap between the Treasury House and the next building. “We can talk later. But right now...”
“No, wait!” Swatting her Coven-mate away, Caylee’s head wildly swung from side to side. “I can’t just leave them!”
Hesitating, the senior sorceress looked back into Highsmith Square. A dozen policeman ran up and formed a line before Jenla and Sarina, guns raised. “I order you!” a sergeant roared out, “to put down your weapons!”
“Cover your eyes!” Tiffany yelled out, hand coming up to her earth stone. “Now!”
Her Coven-mates barely had time to shield their faces before an intense ball of light magically formed before the police skirmish line. Instantly overwhelming their senses, the bobbies all spun about, eyes squeezed shut. Both Sarina and Jenla used the opportunity to drop back and join their Coven-mates.
“What are you talking about?” Tiffany demanded, attention fully on Caylee once more. “Who can’t you leave?”
“I have friends here!” she sobbed. “Good friends, who may be injured...”
“Hey Caylee, stop crying and get moving!” Sarina snapped as she came up to stand next to Tiffany. “Now!”
“Tiffany, please,” Caylee entreated, grabbing her by the arm. “We don’t leave people behind, do we?”
“Leave who behind?” Glancing about, Jenla shrugged. “We’re all here, you lunatic!”
“You don’t understand! I have friends...”
“Hey, we’re your friends!” Shaking off Caylee’s hand, Tiffany pointed behind her shoulder. “And you’re leaving here, right now, with us. Is that understood!”
*****
George held his fire as the bobbies advanced, nearly blinded himself by the effect of Tiffany’s spell. Yet when his tears cleared, the demon was confronted by a golden opportunity.
Four witches were all standing in a tight group. Three of them had their backs to him. From a distance, it seemed as if they might be arguing about something.
Well, that was a mistake. Yanking back hard on the firing rod, George pointed the heavy weapon straight at them while pulling both triggers.
*****
Heavy rounds ricocheted all around them, cracking into masonry, knocking down statues, and blowing out windows. Several shots hit the witches themselves, one plowing right into Sarina’s back.
Though all still had their shields raised, they simply weren’t prepared for this kind of assault. Jenla had a leg knocked out from underneath her, hitting the flagstones hard. Sarina was slammed head first into the base of the nearest fountain. They both managed to crawl behind cover, though each was effectively pinned down by the continued gunfire.
Tiffany tackled Caylee to the ground, then bodily dragged her around the corner of the Treasury House. Along the way she took a glancing, shielded shot to the shoulder. Now out of the gun’s line of sight, the two of them were momentarily protected by the building.
A brief check showed that Caylee wasn’t physically wounded. However, Tiffany’s younger Coven-mate had fallen into nearly complete shock. Propped back against the stone wall, blankly staring outward, she kept miserably rubbing her own earth stone.
Meanwhile, Gatling gun fire continued demolishing everything back around their protected corner in Highsmith Square. Heavy bullets mangled every exposed stone surface, with larger pieces of masonry regularly sloughing off to crunch down onto the flagstones. Clearly, someone intended to pummel the entire area until he ran out of ammo.
But Tiffany had other ideas. Rising once more, her Coven Stick flowed into an advanced hand-held rocket launcher. “Stay here!” she unnecessarily yelled to Caylee, sliding back down the building to the edge of the exposed corner.
Magically getting a fix on the Gatling gun itself, Tiffany took a deep breath. Expertly timing the bursts, she confidently stepped out into the open and fired two tiny rockets in quick succession.
The projectiles roared across the square, detonating moments apart.
The Gatling gun immediately fell silent, even as more screams came from those bystanders who hadn’t yet fled the area.
But she’d worry about that later. Both of her Coven-mates had been badly knocked about, though Jenla was generally mobile. Sarina was worse off, perhaps even having suffered some broken bones. Obviously they needed to disengage and find cover right away.
Kicking Caylee into motion, Tiffany quickly led all three companions out of Highsmith Square. Covering their retreat with a half-dozen evasion spells, the four witches plunged even deeper into the hostile, alien city.
CHAPTER TWELVE
RECLINING ON A comfortable couch, Lady Wendily watched Max imperiously stride into her main drawing room. Dressed in a fine suit and rich red gloves, tastefully accented with an antique golden watch fob, her former sex slave was the very picture of aristocratic Donlon privilege.
“Lord Osler, I presume?” The beautiful demon slowly sat up. “Though I don’t remember having a brother.”
“A minor detail.” Glancing about in distaste, Max’s eyes glowed a dull silver. “I hated this room growing up. My father was always terrified I’d run around and knock something over.”
“Your father was the butler,” Wendily purred. “Of course he wouldn’t want his dirty, ill-begotten brats breaking anything of value.”
“Dirty and ill-begotten?” Max softly repeated. “You certainly didn’t think that while engaging in all sorts of wild perversities with my host, did you?”
“Your host was only good for one thing.” Though rapidly healing, the young beauty’s smile was still marred by deep earth fire scars. “And yes, anything coming from your father was dirty and ill-begotten. It worked all around.”