by James Wisher
“Damien?” Marie-Bell stared at the roof as though trying to see Mikhail through it.
“I know. Can you manage the prisoners? I can’t spare a bit of power against this opponent.”
“I can help.”
“I know, but if we both go out there the cultists will escape. I can handle Mikhail if you watch them.”
The prisoners’ collars turned from gray and gold to pure white as Marie-Bell assumed maintenance of the constructs. “I have them. Please be careful.”
Damien gave her a thumbs up and flew out the warehouse door. He’d barely cleared the entrance when a stream of hellfire streaked past, missing him by inches, and blasting a hole in the yard.
He spun and there was Mikhail, sword leveled, sitting on a black horse, hellfire dancing around his armor and weapon.
Damien put on a burst of speed and soon had the high air. When no attack came he raised an eyebrow. “Planning to surrender, greengrocer?”
“Just enjoying your last moments on earth. You won’t escape me this time, boy.”
Damien laughed. “Escape you? The first time we fought I cut off your arm and the second I dropped a mountain on your head. I’m surprised you had the guts to come after me a third time.”
A bass growl came from deep inside Mikhail’s armor. “You were lucky, worm. You won’t be this time.”
“We’ll see. Catch me if you can.” Damien flew toward the ocean at top speed. Hopefully he’d made Mikhail angry enough that he’d follow without thinking too much. He needed to draw the black knight far enough out over the ocean that he could use his full power without worrying about hurting anyone else.
A rage-filled roar preceded a stream of hellfire. Damien dodged the first blast and when it snaked back toward him he slashed with Lizzy and blew it away.
He couldn’t help smiling. With her help that had been almost too easy. Mikhail wouldn’t escape him this time.
The docks whizzed by below him. Another mile and he’d feel comfortable turning and fighting.
Twin blasts of hellfire struck his shield and engulfed him. Damien didn’t slow. Lizzy shifted her power to reinforce the barrier.
It wasn’t fair. The two of them made a perfect team. Lizzy read his mind and reacted in an instant. No one else could work with him so perfectly.
A burst of soul force blasted Mikhail’s hellfire away. Damien spun and twisted away from the next attack. Out of the corner of his eye he caught a glimpse of the city, nothing but a twinkling of lights in the distance.
Just to be safe he flew around so the city was at his right hand. Lizzy blazed with gray fire in his grip. Mikhail’s sword dripped hellfire. If Damien had had a mount they would have been perfect mirrors.
“Finally accepted your fate, boy?”
Damien grinned and drew deep from his core. His power mixed with Lizzy’s and he charged.
Their blades clashed then Damien was past. Two feet of Mikhail’s blade splashed into the sea.
“Impossible.” Mikhail seemed to be speaking as much to himself as to Damien.
Damien ignored his opponent and concentrated their combined soul force into the edge of Lizzy’s blade.
He slashed and a blade-shaped wave of power leapt at Mikhail. The concentrated energy cut his mount’s head off and continued on, hitting the black knight in the midriff.
The rest of his mount along with his legs tumbled out of the sky. Mikhail’s head, arms, and chest remained flying, the ruined sword still clutched in his hand.
“Impossible,” Mikhail muttered again. His voice no longer held the depth and power it had. He sounded like a mortal man. A frightened one.
Damien slashed Lizzy twice more. The concentrated soul force overlapped and cut Mikhail into four more chunks.
His power faded to nothing as the pieces fell to the water. Damien let out a sigh of relief. If Mikhail lived through that he was truly invincible.
Are you okay?
Damien smiled at the concern in her voice. “Yeah, just tired. It’s been a long night, and we’re not done yet.”
Once you find somewhere to sleep I’ll give you a special treat.
His smile grew. Now that was something to look forward to.
Chapter 41
An exhausted Damien landed in the warehouse yard. He found an empty crate and slumped down on it. He didn’t even have enough energy to conjure a comfortable chair. This was the first time he’d wielded Lizzy’s power in a fierce battle. Using it exhausted him far more than just drawing on his own. He didn’t know why that should be. It seemed like using someone else’s energy instead of his own would be easier not harder.
Marie-Bell rushed out of the warehouse and ran over to him. “Are you hurt? I felt that monster die. It must have been a terrible battle.”
“Yeah, but I’m fine, just tired.”
She moved around behind him and pressed her hands against his back. Warmth and energy flowed into him. A few seconds later she moved around to the front. “Better?”
“Yes. That’s wonderful. A man could get totally addicted to your touch.”
She blushed and looked away.
He winced. “That didn’t come out the way I intended. Thanks for the boost.”
She turned back, but kept her eyes lowered. “You’re welcome.”
Eager to change the subject Damien said, “Did the prisoners give you any trouble?”
“No.” She finally met his gaze. “I studied them with soul sight. In general they’re less evil than I expected. They’re not saints by any means, but I don’t think they’ve done anything really horrible yet either.”
“Isn’t watching an innocent man be murdered horrible enough?” Giovani Blackman walked over to join them. He’d liberated a mismatched set of pants and tunic from the warehouse inventory. Damien hadn’t even noticed the man standing in the shadow of the warehouse. That showed him more than anything just how tired he was.
“Oh, yes,” Marie-Bell said. “But just watching something vile doesn’t stain your soul the way participating does. I don’t say this to excuse their actions, just to explain. I don’t especially understand why it works that way, it just does.”
He nodded, not seeming especially mollified. “So what happens now?”
“Now we wait for my sister to return with the city watch. I’m sure they’ll want to talk to you as well. If you don’t mind telling your story twice, I’m curious how you came to be in the possession of the cult.”
His angry sneer turned into a rueful smile. “My own stupidity mostly. I wanted to find my cousin, to ask him why he left us behind like so much trash. We all loved that boy. Anyway I figured the easiest way to find Connor was to join the Horned One’s cult.”
Giovanni was right, that was stupid. So stupid Damien wondered if he was lying. The flow of soul force in his brain didn’t indicate it, but Damien slipped the psychic block in anyway. “Let me guess, they were less than forthcoming about Connor’s location.”
“Yes. The truth is I doubt the evil buggers had the least idea where my cousin had gone. The more time I spent with the cult the clearer it became to me that they wouldn’t be of any help in my search. Finally I decided to quit and find another way to locate him. The leaders didn’t take that well at all. They locked me up and tortured me for weeks. I received just enough food and water to keep me alive. I can’t for the life of me figure out why they spared me for these many weeks instead of killing me right off.”
“How long has it been?” Marie-Bell asked.
“I’m not entirely certain. They locked me up in the middle of winter. What month is it anyway?”
“July,” Damien said.
“Wow. I guess it’s been about five months. Seemed like longer to me.”
“I’m sure.” Damien stood up and stretched. Jen was close so he wanted to wrap up their conversation. “To answer your question, I suspect the reason they didn’t kill you was fear of what your cousin might do. If Connor still felt kindly disposed toward you he might have tak
en vengeance on the cult for killing you.”
“Then why sacrifice me now?”
Damien patted him on the back. “The cultists probably finally figured out Connor was just using them. No doubt their anger overrode their caution.”
Lights were coming down the street. Damien went to join his sister. He hadn’t gone a step when Giovanni grabbed his hand. “Have you seen Connor? Is he okay?”
Damien pulled his hand free. “I haven’t seen him face to face. As to being okay, Connor traded his soul to a demon lord. I think it’s safe to say he isn’t okay.”
Jen entered the yard with a small army of watchmen in tow. Each man carried an armload of irons and they set to work binding the cultists. The sun was coming up when the twenty watchmen finished replacing the soul force bindings Damien had used with regular wrist and ankle irons. Three enclosed wagons with iron bars pulled by four-horse teams clattered into the warehouse yard to transport the prisoners back to Watch Headquarters. Across the street some of the locals had gathered to gawk. They stood in little knots, muttering amongst themselves.
Damien was too exhausted to care what they were saying. He sat with Jen and Marie-Bell on a conjured couch and watched the men do their work. None of them offered any help beyond Marie-Bell removing the soul force collars one at a time.
“What have you done now?”
Damien turned his head toward the angry voice. A short, barrel-chested man in a disheveled uniform strode toward them, his hands waving and his face red.
Damien turned back to his sister. “Tosh?”
She nodded, not bothering to stand up.
Tosh stopped in front of the couch, hand on hips. “Well? Answer me.”
“Your job,” Jen said. “If you spent half as much time working as you did chasing skirts maybe you would have noticed a demon cult operating in your city.”
“How dare you!” Tosh sputtered in his anger.
“How dare I what?” Jen asked. “Tell you the truth? I know you don’t hear it much from your toadies, but I promise it won’t do you any permanent harm. Now why don’t you go pester someone that cares what you think?”
Tosh snorted and stalked off to bark orders at a group of watchmen who were busy loading one of the wagons.
“He’s a real charmer,” Damien said. “I don’t suppose you know a good inn? I could sleep for a week.”
Chapter 42
When Damien woke he had no idea what time it was and for a moment couldn’t even remember where he was. He looked around the sparse room and sighed. Right, he, Jen, and Marie-Bell had checked into an inn twenty minutes after the last prison wagon had clattered off. Damien smiled when he remembered Lizzy’s surprise last night. She really was a wonder.
Sunlight streamed through the room’s one lonely window and dust motes danced in the light. Apparently he hadn’t slept the whole day away. He rolled out of bed, washed his face, and threw on some clothes. He needed to let his master know what they’d discovered. He doubted the high sorcerer of the west would be overly thrilled that they’d acted without letting her know, but maybe their results would placate her.
He’d barely set pencil to parchment when someone knocked on his door. He opened it with soul force and Jen poked her head inside. “Hey, I heard you moving around. Tosh sent a messenger to fetch us. He wants us to stop by headquarters before we leave.”
“Why?”
She shrugged. “The kid he sent didn’t offer much detail. You want to join us for supper before we head over?”
“Sure. Just let me finish this note and I’ll be right down.”
“I’ll order your favorites.” Jen closed the door behind her.
An hour later, stomachs full and mostly awake, Damien and his companions made the short walk to Watch Headquarters. Jen had said she chose the inn for its proximity since she figured they’d have to deal with Tosh before they left. It seemed despite her dismissiveness toward the watch commander she accepted this as a necessary evil.
The watchmen standing on either side of the entrance must have been expecting them as they waved them through without a fuss. Inside, every one of the six interrogation rooms visible from the entrance was occupied by a cultist and a watch investigator. If they could only handle them six at a time it was going to take the investigators a while to interview the whole group. What interested Damien was just how many more there were out in the kingdom that they knew nothing about.
Tosh waited for them in his office on the third floor. The little man had found time to oil his beard and change into a crisp uniform. He looked up from a report once his secretary closed the door behind them.
“What took you so long? I sent that messenger over an hour ago.”
Jen ignored the jibe. “We’re here, what did you want?”
Tosh reached into his desk and pulled out a scroll. He unrolled it and read, “In gratitude for your excellent work in uncovering this threat festering beneath our fine city please do me the honor of joining me for a drink this evening. Yours truly, Mayor Solomon. I hope you saved room. It seems you’re expected at Public House this evening.”
“Public House?” Damien looked from Tosh to his sister.
“That’s the name of the mayor’s official residence.” Jen shook her head. “Ugh. I really don’t feel like shaking hands and getting my back slapped. Maybe we could just skip it.”
Tosh’s smile held no hint of humor. “You might ignore me, but do you dare ignore the ruler of the largest city in the kingdom? If you insult him it might make trouble for the king.”
“Damn it!”
Damien patted her shoulder. “Let’s just put in an appearance, have a drink, and get out of there as fast as possible.”
“Yes,” Marie-Bell said. “I’ve never met a mayor before. It might be fun.”
Damien seriously doubted it would be fun, but he feared it was necessary. At the very least he didn’t want to cause any trouble for Uncle Andy.
“Fine,” Jen said. “What time are we supposed to be there?”
“Sunset.” Tosh chuckled at her displeasure. It seemed the two of them genuinely despised each other.
Hoping to cut off another argument Damien asked, “What have you learned from the cultists?”
Tosh blew out a sigh. “Not much. They always wore masks to the meetings so no one really knew anyone else. I will acknowledge, reluctantly, that we’ve found three watchmen among the group you caught. Maybe I have been lax. How could I not know three of my people were mixed up in something like this?”
“Don’t be too hard on yourself,” Marie-Bell said. “There’s no way for you to have known what they did after work. You’re not their keeper after all.”
Tosh looked at Jen. “This is what a woman should be like, gentle and forgiving. Maybe she can give you lessons.”
Jen snorted. “If you learn anything useful be sure to pass it along. Let’s go. If we take our time we should reach Public House right around sunset.
Chapter 43
Public House was certainly an impressive structure. The three-story mansion sprawled over an acre of manicured grounds. Weathered gargoyles leered down at them from every corner of the roof. A fifteen-foot-tall wrought iron fence surrounded the grounds. It was more for decoration than anything since anyone with a modicum of physical ability could climb it with no trouble. Even the spikes at the top didn’t look very sharp.
“Wow!” Marie-Bell stared up at the mansion.
It seemed the large stained glass window that dominated the front of the building especially drew her attention. Not that Damien was surprised, the window depicted a blond woman in mail that might have been her cousin.
“She was the first mayor of the city,” Jen said when she noticed where they were looking. “A warlord of some skill and if the rumors were true the imperial governor’s lover. Her name escapes me.”
Damien glanced at his sister, surprised that she’d bothered to learn even that much about a place she didn’t like. “Where’d you hear that?”
“When I was stationed in the city I did a week of guard duty here. The other guy was a local and he liked to talk.” Jen grimaced. “He really liked to talk. Besides Tosh, he was the only person I wanted to strangle during my time here.”
Damien chuckled. That was more like it. The three of them approached the fence gate. A warlord stood on either side of the entrance, ceremonial halberds in their hands and more practical swords strapped to their backs. The two men weren’t especially strong, but even weak warlords would be a match for any number of normal citizens.
The guards crossed their halberds to block the gate. “Name and business,” the taller, blond one said.
“Jennifer St. Cloud. My companions and I were invited to have a drink with the mayor.”
They moved aside.
“Go on in,” the blond guard said. “The head butler is waiting just inside the door to guide you to the great hall.”
Jen nodded and the three of them passed through the gate and crunched their way up the twisting gravel path to the mansion. A hedge grew on both sides of their route. If someone wanted to ambush them this would be a good spot. Damien found he had unconsciously strengthened his shield and smiled at his foolishness.
“What’s Mayor Solomon like?” Marie-Bell asked. She was the only one that seemed eager for this meeting.
Jen shrugged. “He’s a big, broad-shouldered guy. Bald as an egg, but not bad looking. I’ve never spoken to the man, so I have no idea what sort of personality he has. Being a politician I assume he acts however he needs to at any given moment.”
Marie-Bell cocked her head. “You served as a gate guard for a week and he never spoke to you? I would have thought he walked by dozens of times.”
Jen smiled and shook her head. “The mayor generally travels by carriage. The gate guards are little more than living decorations, and ignored as such. As far as I know there’s never been an attempt on the mayor’s life or even someone trying to sneak onto the grounds.”