by A. Evermore
A tiny finger prodded her. She groaned in response. ‘It’s all ugly, skinny and white,’ a familiar voice said.
‘Leave it alone, Maggot.’ The wheezy voice scolded.
‘Maggot…’ she repeated the name, some memory forming in her mind.
‘I told you not to enter the Storm Holt. The greater demons have done something,’ Maggot huffed.
‘Storm Holt…’ she breathed and struggled to lift herself up. She could only manage propping herself onto her elbows. ‘I’m in the Storm Holt.’ She blinked, trying to see, but her vision kept blurring and everything was out of focus.
‘You left the Storm Holt, now you are in the Murk,’ the deep voice said.
‘Maybe she needs wursel blood,’ the wheezy voice said.
‘They don’t drink wursel up there, stupid,’ the deep voice said. ‘Find some water. Maybe there’s some left in the lower caverns.’
Feet shuffled away and she closed her eyes and slumped back down, trying to breathe the thick warm air that managed to make her feel weaker than she already was.
Sometime later a blanket was draped over her and something was shoved against her lips. She involuntarily drank the old warm water that was poured down her throat. She choked and swallowed and blinked. The water was helping, despite being foul. She rubbed her eyes. She was wrapped in a rough stinking blanket, the smell of which she could not place and decided not to try, and in a very large room carved out of rock. It was lit by only the green crystal, so she could not tell how big the room actually was, but it felt big.
She blinked up into the faces of three very different looking demons that, if she had not been so exhausted, she would have been afraid of. She instantly recognised the tiny ugly demon with the protruding tooth and potbelly.
‘Maggot?’
The little demon looked up at the other two towering above him. One demon was skinny and bent over and hung on to a gnarly staff. He seemed old, but they all looked similar with grey hairless skin and wide round heads, clawed feet and hands, large ears and long tails. The last demon was the most frightening. He had huge muscles and was big and wide, maybe ten feet tall. His wings were partially folded over his back. He watched her with a permanent distrusting scowl.
‘You should not have entered the Storm Holt,’ the big demon said. ‘I sent Maggot to bring you a different way. That gate now leads straight to the Pit and beyond.’
She nodded and closed her eyes. ‘It goes on and on and never stops. I had no idea it would be like that. I would never have gone. You saved me…’ she suddenly realised. ‘Why?’
The demon’s scowl deepened. He looked away. ‘We need help,’ he said it quietly, as if it shamed him. ‘And so will you if you do not help us. The greater demons are coming. The only way to stop them destroying us, and to stop them entering your world where they will destroy you too, is to find the spear and kill Karhlusus. The Demon Slayer knows how to kill him, he also knows how to close the gates.’
She shook her head. ‘I don’t know who or where this Demon Slayer is…’
‘We need you to find him.’ The demon talked over her. ‘We need an intermediary. He’ll kill us on sight. Do not forget that we hate your kind and the world you inhabit, but we will help you find the spear and fight the greater demons. We will help you close the gates to the Pit and to the Murk if you destroy Karhlusus. Our only hope is to work together. ’
She nodded. She was so exhausted and confused she could think of nothing to say except to agree. They had, after all, saved her. ‘All right. I’ll try. Why is the spear so important? Why can’t you get the spear yourself?’
The demons looked at each. The big one spoke.
‘In your world the spear was turned into a weapon to kill demons. Demons cannot touch the spear without being destroyed.’
The skinny demon growled and spat at the wall.
‘What was it before?’ she asked.
‘We don’t know,’ he shrugged. ‘Perhaps the Demon Slayer does. You call the spear Velistor, and Karhlusus knows its worth. He keeps it locked away in Carmedrak Rock.’
‘The black spire in the desert?’ She remembered the hideous black rock.
The demons nodded. ‘It’s filled with greater demons, and has become the entrance and exit to their world, the Pit. Find the Demon Slayer, and together we have a chance to drive back the greater demons.’
‘I will try,’ she said again, ‘but only because you saved me. Thank you.’ She looked up sincerely into the face of the big demon. She meant it with all her heart. ‘The thought of being trapped down there, of never getting out… I surrendered everything. I gave up on myself-’ she choked back a sob. Right now she had never felt so grateful to anyone, funny that she felt that way towards these demons.
‘Hmph.’ His face was expressionless.
‘If the Storm Holt is too dangerous, how will I return?’ she asked.
‘Wekurd, show her,’ the big one said.
‘Yes, my king,’ Wekurd said with a bow and limped forwards. So he was the king, King Gedrock, Maggot had called him. She was pleased some memory was returning.
‘This is the Murk.’ Wekurd scratched the shape of a waxing crescent moon on the floor with his staff. ‘This is Zorock.’ Next to it he drew the shape of a waning crescent. Finally he drew a long straight line joining the mirrored crescents together. ‘This is the symbol of the murk and the line is the symbol of the gates to our world. All gates to our world come through our moon Zorock.’
She remembered seeing the green light of Zorock when she first passed through the Storm Holt entrance.
‘When you step upon the symbol of the Murk, speak your intention and spill your blood - it will bring you here.’
‘Spill blood?’ she was taken aback. Were they joking? Their faces were serious.
‘Just a few drops,’ the skinny demon wheezed. There was a disturbing hungry look in his eyes as he looked at her. Keen howls came from somewhere, they made her shiver.
‘Enough has been explained,’ the king said, he looked uneasy. ‘Her presence is disturbing the demons, they can smell her. She is not to be harmed,’ he said specifically to Wekurd. The skinny demon nodded, the hungry look was gone from his face and replaced with subservience.
‘Bring her to the shard. Maggot, take her back to the higherworld,’ the king demanded and turned away.
‘Wait, please, not through the Storm Holt again.’ She gasped and tried to get up as the big demon stalked off. He folded his wings down against his back, and his long thick tail snaked out behind him. Wekurd gripped her arm and helped her up. His cold grey flesh against hers made her skin crawl, but his grip was strong. She could barely walk and so had to let him half carry her as they followed the king.
‘It’s safe returning through the crystal,’ Maggot said as he flew to catch up with the king. ‘For you it is, anyway,’ a frown creased his already wrinkled face.
‘Touch the crystal,’ the king demanded when she neared.
She couldn’t disobey that commanding voice, it vibrated right through her. She placed her hand on the crystal next to where he had placed his. She stared at that hand. It was big and strong enough to crush her skull in one grip.
Maggot flapped his wings and hovered close to the crystal. There was a reluctant look on his face and he grimaced as he placed his own stubby hand upon it. She swallowed. If the demon was afraid, then so was she. The king glared at her, those red eyes with black slits watching her from beyond a green crystal were becoming a familiar sight.
‘We will meet again, Raven Queen,’ he said and his voice was lost in a rush of air.
Issa and Maggot fell out of the Storm Holt in a heap on the grass beside her clothes. She shivered and trembled with cold, fatigue and a strange electrical disturbance in her body that made her twitch. She couldn’t move a muscle with her own will. She wondered if this was how being struck by lightning felt, if you survived it of course. She breathed the cool light air. Had she finally made it home? The tho
ught brought tears to her eyes that spilled down her cheeks.
A raven cawed, she recognised Ehka’s call. He landed beside her and waddled close to her face. He blurred in her vision. With another caw he flew off. Oh Ehka, thank the goddess. He was going to get the wizards, she hoped. Though the last thing she wanted was to see anyone. Not in this state, not with the things she had seen and done.
She realised then that she had failed, failed on every level. She had surrendered herself and given up her soul in the Storm Holt. She would have cried if she wasn’t already. All she wanted to do was crawl away and die somewhere. It was lucky she could not reach her sword.
‘Issy?’ A small voice came from behind her and she felt small hands grip her arm. She couldn’t even bring herself to speak. The hands left her arm and in the next moment her tunic dress was dragged over her shivering body. That small gesture, coming from a demon at that, ignited a spark of wonder in the darkness of her mind.
‘Your face is leaking,’ he said. Was that worry in his voice? Cold hands touched her wet cheek. It made her cry even more.
‘I thought demons hated humans,’ she stuttered, trying to keep Maggot in her vision, but he kept blurring into a patch of grey.
‘We do. So many demons have been murdered by humans. And you stink and look so ugly. But King needs you… and you liked my name… and you didn’t kill me like I was told humans would.’
Men’s voices came from afar and he stepped back in fear.
‘Go, Maggot, they are coming to help me.’ She shivered. ‘But they might not like you, and though I want to I cannot protect you right now. Go and… Thank you.’
‘For what?’ The demon frowned, his face was an ugly scowl in her blurry vision.
‘For finding me in the darkness.’
‘We live in the darkness, Issy,’ he said. He backed away towards the Storm Holt as the men’s voices neared. She watched as he disappeared into a patch of shadow and then was gone completely.
There came loud excited laughter that hurt her ears, and then a soft blanket was thrown over her, bringing with it much needed warmth. Her body was gently lifted and a barrage of voices surrounded her.
‘She made it, I knew she would.’
‘I told you she would.’
‘There was never anything to worry about.’
‘She still might not live yet, her skin is blue and cold as ice.’
‘You didn’t tell me it would be like that,’ she croaked. The voices went silent as she spoke. ‘Everything I feared came to pass.’
‘It is different for everyone,’ Freydel said next to her. He wasn’t carrying her and she strained to see who was.
It was Domenon. He looked down at her. There was a strange look in his eyes that she could not fathom. It was not surprise, he was not surprised she had returned, perhaps he knew she would all along. It bordered on concern, maybe worry, and certainly confusion. His eyes also bore the faintest tinge of brightness, proof that he had recently been using the Flow, and for a moment it seemed his pupils were longer than they should be. He looked away and she focused on trying to say conscious.
‘I used no magic, I lost everything, even myself. I surrendered my soul, willingly. I died,’ she said, her voice ragged and painful in her throat. ‘I did not pass any test,’ she felt the tears fall again. They were so hot on her cheeks it felt like they burned.
‘Yes, Issa, yes you did pass. To return is to pass, no matter how it is done,’ Freydel said.
‘I would not have survived had the Shadow Demons not reached me. If they hadn’t found me I would not be here. I didn’t know I was so afraid. So afraid of everything. I went beyond the Murk, beyond even the Pit. I went so far I don’t know where it was.’ Her voice was barely a whisper.
The wizards were silent as she spoke, probably trying to hear what she said. Freydel spoke, his voice soothing and yet full of emotion.
‘All that matters in this life is that we have the fortitude to face whatever comes our way.’
She felt herself drifting as she considered his words. After a moment she said, ‘I have been to the bottom of the abyss and beyond, and I gave my soul away. How can I fear anything again?’
She would still be there if the demons hadn’t reached her. But she had gone to them, she had chosen to trust them. What if she’d never met Maggot? No one would ever know what had happened to her if it wasn’t for him. It was Edarna’s words spoken so long ago that came clearly to her then and made her wonder.
“…Beware of the deceivers and their false gifts and broken promises. They would make you an enemy of yourself to break you so that you will serve them. Master yourself and know that true friends can be found in the most unlikely places.”
Continued in Demon Spear
DEMON SPEAR
The Prophecies of Zanufey
Book 4
A. Evermore
“I have become that which I saw in the mirror, saw in my dreams. I have become the Raven Queen.” ~ Issa
When the blue cat leads Issa to the Oracle, sparks of magic fly. Baelthrom’s hand has reached into the heart of Carvon, but she learns that the power of a seer should not be underestimated and the skills of a witch are a source of wonder.
Struggling with rejection, Asaph finds solace in street fights. Alone, he becomes an easy target for the white owl, and begins to think his feelings for Issa are not what they once were. Whether he can free himself or not, his own destiny is calling to him, and he must learn to master himself.
When Baelthrom strikes, death forces Issa and her companions apart. Frayon’s western coast is brutally attacked, and all around there is heart-break and loss, but still she must keep her oath to the demons, or risk a terrible evil rising from the Abyss.
Afterword
Thank you for reading Storm Holt, I hope you enjoyed the third book in the series. The adventures of Issa, Asaph and friends continue in Demon Spear.
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The Prophecies of Zanufey series:
Night Goddess
The Fall Of Celene
Storm Holt
Demon Spear
Dragons Awaken
War Of The Raven
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