by James Wisher
“Sometimes the good guys need to sneak in or the bad guys will sneak out before they can be captured. Try to be a little quieter, please.”
“Are you two coming?” Jen asked.
Damien and Marie-Bell got going again, the jingling and stomping a little softer than before. The tunnel kept going with no sign of an end. By Damien’s estimate they’d crossed under the street and were now beneath the feed store across from the warehouse. How far did they dig this tunnel? And worse, he was pretty sure they were still angled down.
Jen hissed and waved at them. Damien doused his light so only the faintest glow remained and slipped up beside his sister.
“What is it?” He barely breathed the words, confident her enhanced hearing would pick it up.
“Voices up ahead. Douse your light.”
Damien’s glowing globe vanished. As his eyes adjusted to the darkness a faint, red glow became visible at the end of the tunnel. He couldn’t hear the voices Jen mentioned, but Damien trusted his sister.
“I’ll sneak ahead and take a look,” Jen said. “You and Jingle-Bell over there wait for me.”
Damien wasn’t crazy about Jen going ahead, but he knew better than to argue with her too much. She moved away silent as a breeze, leaving Damien and Marie-Bell standing in the dark.
“I’m not that noisy,” Marie-Bell said.
Damien smiled in the dark. Fortunately Damien hadn’t seen any warlords among the group they followed. If there were any warlords among the cultists they could hear a heart beating at ten paces. Marie-Bell might as well be swinging a cowbell as she walked.
Chapter 36
Jen left Damien and Marie-Bell huddled by the side of the tunnel and snuck toward the red light. It wasn’t very bright, but with her soul force enhanced sight Jen could see everything clearly. The chanting became louder and the light brighter with each step. Jen didn’t recognize the language, but it was clear that the same words were being repeated over and over again. The words sent a chill down her spine. It was probably just as well that she didn’t know what they were saying.
After fifty paces the tunnel ended at the rim of an amphitheater. Four broad-shouldered cultists carrying saw-toothed swords patrolled a walkway that ran around the perimeter. Every twenty or so paces a set of steps went down to the floor. Three more tunnels spaced equally around the rim led away from the gathering.
Jen did a quick count of the robed figures and came up with over a hundred, and that was just the ones visible from her position. There had to be that many more she couldn’t see. Down on the floor of the amphitheater rested an altar with a naked man bound to it face up. Four robed figures stood around the altar. Jen couldn’t see corruption like her brother, but she would have bet a year’s pay that those four all had a weapon or device capable of producing the black flames.
She allowed herself a moment of doubt. She’d expected to find a dozen cultists and instead found a hundred plus. That was a lot of people for the three of them to handle. On the other hand she’d just watched Damien reduce an entire town to dust along with scores of zombies. How hard would it be for him to handle these cultists? If they didn’t care about taking them alive she suspected it would be much easier.
The thing that bothered Jen was that she and everyone else kept relying on him. It wasn’t fair to expect so much of a seventeen-year-old man. She wanted to make life easier for her brother, but in so many instances there was nothing she could do to help beyond staying out of his way. That galled her more than she liked to admit.
She eased further back into the tunnel as one of the guards moved closer. He looked at ease, his gaze wandering the gathering with no particular target. When he reached the entrance to her tunnel he stiffened and Jen held her breath.
The guard peered into the tunnel then vanished.
Jen’s soul force surged and she drew her sword just in time to block the enemy warlord’s attack. Teeth clenched, she drew more power and forced her opponent back. She had to finish him quickly. The other guards would arrive soon.
She spun and slashed, hoping to cut the guard down when he lost his balance.
The cultist was too skilled for such a simple ploy. He lunged deeper into the tunnel, avoiding her slash, and regaining his balance. Rapid footsteps from behind her announced the arrival of more enemies.
A glowing white hammer hit the first guard in the side of the head with enough force to reduce it to pulp. Light filled the tunnel as Damien and Marie-Bell arrived on the scene, weapons drawn.
Chapter 37
Damien sensed Jen’s soul force surge and a moment later the clash of weapons filled the tunnel. Damn it! She’d been discovered.
He conjured light spheres and Marie-Bell sent holy energy into her hammer’s head. The paladin accelerated to warlord speed. Damien rushed after her, drawing Lizzy as he went.
Let’s try something different. Lizzy’s power surged into his core, mingling with his soul force. Try wielding our combined power just like you would your own. Maybe it will give you better control.
Damien skidded to a stop beside Marie-Bell who from the looks of it had just smashed one of the cultists’ heads in. Jen glanced back and smiled. She always seemed happiest just before a fight.
Ahead of them three more figures in black robes blocked their path. All three had strong internal soul force.
“Some poor son of a bitch is about to be sacrificed in there,” Jen said. “Marie-Bell and I can handle these three. Get going.”
Jen vanished and one of the guards was knocked to the left. Marie-Bell did the same, knocking the center guard into the one on the right. Trusting his sister’s battle judgment, Damien flew through the gap.
He entered a cavern with an amphitheater in the floor. Robed cultists streamed toward three other tunnels like cockroaches before a torch. Damien slammed barriers into place, stopping the exodus.
Damien didn’t know how many had escaped, but no one else would be joining them. Down on the floor masked cultists reeking of corruption surrounded an altar where a naked man struggled against hellfire bonds. The four leaders argued back and forth, seeming unaware of Damien’s arrival. That confirmed to him that he wasn’t dealing with warlocks or any other creature capable of sensing soul force.
Damien shattered the prisoner’s bindings, wrapped him in a soul force bubble and sent him up near the cavern roof to keep him out of harm’s way. The leaders stared up at him. One raised a hand wreathed in hellfire.
A stream of black flames shot toward Damien. He conjured an angled shield that sent the blast safely into the cavern wall. Stone shattered and fell to the walkway.
The other leaders had drawn their weapons, two black daggers and a skull-topped iron rod. Hellfire swirled around all three items. The rod shook in the cultist’s hand.
Maybe he could end this without further loss of life. Damien amplified his voice with soul force. “Lay down your weapons and surrender. Comply now and you will not be harmed.”
As he hoped the iron rod clattered to the stone floor and the holder fell to his knees. Damien turned his gaze on the other three.
“Coward!” One of the knife bearers, a woman judging from the voice, stepped behind the leader on his knees and cut his throat.
The hellfire surrounding her weapon blazed hotter. She swung toward Damien and a torrent of black flame rushed at him. The two survivors joined their power to the woman’s, making the stream of fire a river. Damien raced toward the ceiling, swinging wide of the intended sacrifice. Chunks of stone crashed into the cultists below him.
Damien grimaced. At this rate there wouldn’t be anyone left alive to question. He couldn’t say if that’s what the leaders had in mind or if they just didn’t care who else they killed as long as they blasted Damien.
Either way he needed to end this quickly. Damien sent his own blast down at the leaders. The cultist without a weapon shifted the flow of hellfire, forming a shield around the three of them while the other two continued to try and burn Damien
to a crisp.
He flew too fast and their control wasn’t sufficient for them to do anything beyond wave at him with their flames. It was a standoff and he couldn’t break it without using a lot stronger of an attack than the first one he tried.
There was nothing for it. He drew ten times the power he used the first time, shaped it into a spear, and hurled it at the cultist maintaining the shield.
The gold and gray construct pierced the barrier like it was made of paper and kept going through the cultist’s chest. The force of the attack drove the robed figure into the wall and pinned them there for an instant before Damien detonated the energy contained in the spear.
The explosion shook the cavern. The cult leaders lay in small, smoking pieces, their weapons reduced to twisted metal. The ordinary cultists that had been pounding on his barriers to try and escape all fell to their knees and raised their hands. Damien let out a sigh of relief. Only a small group of cultists had gotten crushed by falling rock. There should be plenty of survivors to interrogate. It would have been nice to capture at least one of the leaders alive, but when dealing with fanatics you couldn’t always get what you wanted.
Jen and Marie-Bell stepped out onto the walkway and Damien landed beside them. Neither of them bore any wounds.
“Are you okay?” Jen asked.
“I’m fine, but the leaders refused to surrender. I hope we can get something useful out of the regular members.”
Marie-Bell looked left and right. “There certainly are a lot of them.”
“Did you save the sacrifice?” Jen asked.
“I forgot all about him.” Damien gestured and the bubble descended from the ceiling. When it settled on the walkway beside him Damien shifted it into a simple smock to cover the naked man. He had a gaunt, almost skeletal frame and long stringy brown hair that hadn’t been washed in days if not weeks. Bruises covered the left side of his face. “Are you all right, sir?”
“Thanks to you, young man.” The prisoner’s voice sounded surprisingly strong considering the state of him. “You have my most sincere gratitude.”
“You’re welcome, sir. We’d like to discuss this matter further with you, but right now we need to get these prisoners to the city jail.”
“You didn’t mention your name,” Jen said.
“Pardon my manners. I’m Giovanni Blackman.”
Chapter 38
Mikhail rode on a proper mount as he and Morana approached Port Valcane several hours after midnight. He hadn’t been thrilled when the master ordered him to return and help Morana capture a powerful sorcerer for the crystal. He wished to remain at Connor’s side until the end, but if the witch wasn’t capable of doing her job alone there was no help for it. Whatever the master required of Mikhail he would do. He would not fail again.
“I don’t know why Connor made me bring you along,” Morana said. “You’re too big and noisy. How am I supposed to hide your presence until the target arrives?”
“I’ll kill anyone that sees me.” Mikhail glared at the witch. “That should solve the problem.”
Morana shook her head. The contempt on her face almost sent him into a rage. How dare she look down on him. If the master didn’t find her useful he’d tear her head off.
“You can’t just kill everyone that sees you. Most of the people you encounter will be Connor’s servants. Not much value in dead servants, is there?” She waved a dismissive hand. “Don’t worry, I’ll think of something.”
Mikhail growled deep in his chest. Arrogant bitch! As if he needed Morana to solve his problems. He was just about to tell her what he thought of her when he sensed a familiar, hated presence. Mikhail brought his mount up short.
Morana flew a little past him, stopped, and came back. “What now?”
“An enemy. I will deal with him and meet you at the worms’ base.”
“We don’t have time for this. You know how important this mission is to Connor.”
The witch’s argument almost swayed Mikhail, but this was a personal matter. Twice the whelp had bested him. This was too good an opportunity to pass up. This time Mikhail would be the victor.
Chapter 39
Morana watched the fool knight galloping toward the docks on his ridiculous horse. She sensed the towering soul force he flew toward. Unless Morana was badly mistaken that had to be the target. Connor hadn’t told Mikhail who they were supposed to capture for exactly this reason. He was entirely too stupid to be burdened with excess information.
She should have gone with Mikhail. That’s what Connor would have wanted. But she had everything all worked out. Morana knew just how she’d capture the boy, nice and quiet with no one the wiser. Attacking with Mikhail would probably rouse the whole city. She knew of at least six sorcerers living in Port Valcane and if even one of them showed up while she was trying to capture her target it would make failure much more likely.
No, her plan was perfect. Mikhail had already been defeated by the boy twice. She had no fear of him winning this time. He’d get beaten and flee with his tail between his legs, then they’d follow her plan like they should have from the start.
She nodded once and flew toward the city center. She landed ten blocks from the government building beside a grate that led to the city drainage system. Pincers made of soul force lifted the grate aside. Morana flew down, hovering just above the filthy water flowing down the stone tube. When the grate slid back in place she glided downstream two blocks before pausing in front of a particular stretch of blank wall.
A stream of hellfire opened a section of the wall revealing a connection to the labyrinth the cult had constructed over the years. She sealed the wall behind her and continued on through the newer, cleaner tunnels.
The cultists had been remarkably active considering their chief beliefs revolved around destruction and the end of everything. You’d think doomsday cultists would be more slipshod in their building techniques. Then again, even if you wanted the world to end that didn’t mean you wanted a tunnel collapsing on you.
Eventually the man-made walls gave way to rough, natural chambers. According to some of the older members they’d found these natural caverns when the first members arrived in the kingdom, back when it was still an imperial colony. Savage worshipers of the Horned One used the cave complex as a lair. Naturally the humans had killed all the goblins and taken over the complex, eventually expanding it as the city grew so they had access to all parts of the sprawling port.
Morana flew into one of the occupied chambers. Workers and sympathetic sorcerers had leveled the floor and brought in tables, chairs, and couches for sleeping. A handful of robed cultists stood around one of the tables studying an unrolled scroll. One of her servants saw her fly in and bowed deeply. “Mistress. Welcome back.”
The rest of the cultists bowed as well before returning to whatever they were looking at so intently. From the next chamber over a bearded, grubby fellow with his hands thrust into the pockets of his ragged pants sauntered in, not showing her the least respect.
“Did he like your presents?” Koran asked.
Morana grimaced at the old cultist Connor had saddled her with. She’d seldom met such a coldblooded killer, but would it have hurt him to show her at least a little respect, or better yet take a bath?
“Connor was satisfied. More importantly is everything ready for the new prey?”
“Yeah. The Keeper of the Keys knows what he has to do. The rooms are all prepared. Now all we need is someone to show up.”
“He’ll show. Unlike you, he has proper respect for his superiors.”
Koran barked a laugh. “In that case he deserves to get captured.”
Chapter 40
Damien led what had to be the least entertaining parade ever. One hundred and twenty-seven cultists, their masks removed and soul force collars connecting them together, trudged through the tunnel back to the warehouse Damien and the others had staked out. Whenever they slowed down a tug on the neck encouraged them to start moving again. Lucki
ly for him, Jen, and Marie-Bell, the sight of Damien taking out all of their leaders had knocked the fight out of them. The fact that he could pop their heads off with a thought probably helped too.
The little troop had almost reached the warehouse entrance when Jen trotted up beside him. “I’m going to run ahead and fetch Tosh. You and Marie-Bell can handle this, right?”
The paladin currently marched at the rear of the column, but Damien answered for her. “Sure, no problem. You know it’s like three in the morning. The guard captain isn’t apt to be there.”
“No, Tosh certainly won’t be there this early, but when I explain the situation the duty officer will send someone to fetch him. I promise you even Tosh will rouse himself for this many prisoners.”
“He’s liable to be pissed that we raided this place without even telling him.”
“Sure, but what’s he going to do, tell us to let them go?” Jen shook her head. “He’ll take it quietly. If he gives me any crap I’ll remind him he had a hundreds-strong demon cult active in his city and he did nothing about it. That’ll shut him up.”
Damien grinned. “You’re enjoying this aren’t you?”
Jen held her thumb and forefinger an inch apart. “Little bit. I’ll be back soon.”
She vanished up the tunnel at warlord speed. Damien was glad he and his sister got along. He’d hate to have Jen for an enemy.
They reached the stairs up to the warehouse and he went up first. One by one the cultists climbed the stairs. Several of them looked around, clearly surprised to see where they’d emerged. Damien directed them to form neat rows until Marie-Bell emerged, her glowing hammer held high.
“What now?” she asked.
“Now we—” A powerful source of corruption approaching in a hurry stopped him dead. He knew that power. The monster had survived after all.