Dawn of Chaos

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Dawn of Chaos Page 27

by Tony Donadio

Nalef pursued her, now visibly slowed. The head of the pitchfork that he had used to impale it still protruded from its chest. Black demon blood ran freely from it and a score of other wounds that slashed and pierced its body, and arrows studded it like a pincushion.

  He smiled grimly. His companions had not gone down without a fight.

  Nalef roared at her. It tried to rush her, clawed arms swinging wildly. She ducked easily beneath its first swipe and backed away from the second, her reflexes more than a match for the wounded demon. She taunted it again.

  Orion tried to make sense of what he was seeing. For all her bravado and athleticism, he knew she couldn’t keep this up for long. Despite its injuries, it was only a matter of time before the demon wore her down and caught her.

  The monster’s reaction to her taunting had degenerated into relentless lunges and attacks, punctuated by incoherent growls and roars. When it caught her, would it just kill her? If she made it angry enough, it might do far worse.

  Diana retreated from the enraged demon, moving directly away from where Orion stood. Their eyes met for just an instant before she disappeared from his view behind the monster’s body. It turned to follow her, its back to him.

  Then Orion understood. Her taunts were drawing it away from him, buying him time to recover. And it had worked.

  With a shock he realized that he already owed Diana his life. The demon should have slain him at the first sign that he was getting back on his feet to become a threat again. If not for the young girl’s desperate courage he would be dead now.

  His eyes narrowed. Even together and despite its injuries, he didn’t know if they could defeat the creature. She had wagered torture or worse against an easy death, and without a second thought, to win a chance to save both their lives.

  He saw that Diana was being backed into a corner of the alley with nowhere to run. He had only seconds to act on the chance she had bought them.

  His eyes darted frantically around for a weapon, and came to rest on Jameson’s sword. It was still protruding from the back of the man’s ruined head. The handle stood at hand-height, in almost a direct line from where he stood to the monster’s back. It was practically calling to him.

  He smiled as he ran. He grasped the pommel as he reached the innkeeper’s body, pulling on it with all of his strength. His heart leaped as the blade came free. He raced on, hoping desperately to reach Diana in time.

  He saw that he was going to be too late. The demon roared, rearing up to its full height. Its fists were clenched, not to kill, but to strike her unconscious. Whatever end it had planned for her, it would not be slow.

  A year at the Silver Star had taught him how to use a blade. He saw the huge, ugly wound in the monster’s back, around the wing pinion, where Jameson had stabbed it before, and knew what to do. He grasped the pommel with both hands and, before the creature realized he was coming, raised the sword to strike.

  Diana ducked suddenly as Nalef fell on her. To Orion’s shock, she scooted right between its enormous legs. He rushed past her as she rolled away from the demon and came up in a crouch behind him. Its full weight behind a blow that never landed, the monster lost its balance and fell, fists striking empty air. It stumbled to the cobblestones, and Orion leaped on its exposed back.

  He stabbed. The sword pierced the unprotected flesh around the base of the demon’s wing, sinking deep.

  Nalef roared in pain. It tried to slash its wings at Orion to knock him off, but both were now useless. It tried to stand but it slipped and stumbled, the ground beneath it slick with its own ichor. Orion levered the blade back and forth, trying both to widen the wound and to loosen the weapon, so that he could pull it free again to continue the fight.

  The monster finally managed to get a grip on the wall next to it with its claws, and heaved itself slowly back to its feet. Orion pulled the sword free and jumped away. He dodged frantically as the demon’s tail lashed at him, and barely avoided being knocked to the ground.

  Nalef turned to face them once more, crouching in the corner of the alley. Demon ichor smeared its body and flowed freely from its wounds, especially the ones in its back and gut. A wild, desperate fury burned in its eyes, replacing its arrogant confidence from before. With a sudden chill Orion realized that they had literally backed the monster into a corner.

  When it sprang, though, he was ready for it. He pivoted to the left as the demon’s claws tore at him, and brought his sword up to slash at its belly. He drew the blade across its hide, hard, as his instructors at the Star had taught him. The weapon opened a long gash that spurted more of the creature’s dark ichor.

  His elation was short lived. Nalef was also pivoting, and he had forgotten the monster’s tail. It slammed into his chest, knocking him to the ground. It spun again and pounced, fangs gleaming, ready to tear out the young scholar’s throat.

  Diana lunged over his body and slammed her butcher’s knife into the demon’s eye. Its own momentum drove the weapon deep into its head and wrenched it from her grasp. Fangs and claws slashed the pair as the monster spun and howled, trying to twist away from the unexpected attack. Diana cried out and stumbled backward.

  Orion crawled desperately away from the creature, grimacing in pain. His arm and back burned where Nalef’s claws had raked them, and his chest ached. He managed to scramble back to his feet and, sword still in hand, turned to face the demon once again.

  The monster was weaving unsteadily, but it was still standing. It reached up with one claw and yanked the knife from its face. Then it turned its remaining eye on the two humans, and let out a long, low, menacing hiss.

  Diana circled carefully away from it to one side. Her eyes were wide.

  “Light!” she cursed. “Won’t anything kill this damned thing?”

  Orion grimaced. A red stain was growing on Diana’s blouse to match the one on his arm. From the pain in his chest he was fairly certain the demon had cracked at least one of his ribs. But he could still swing his sword, and she was already stooping to pick up a new knife.

  Their eyes met, and she nodded. Once again, they closed to attack.

  Orion found later that he couldn’t remember the rest of the battle, or how long it lasted. When he tried, all he seemed to be able to recall was a nearly endless series of exchanges with the wounded demon. Nalef would lunge for him, and Diana would distract it with jeers or a thrown rock. It would turn to her, and he would take advantage of the opening to step in and hit it. He would leap backward to escape its claws when it came for him, and she would attack or distract it. Again and again, blow after blow, with the demon weakening and slowing, bit by bit, but never dying. Never dying, blast it!

  And then he was on top of the monster, hitting it again and again …

  “Die, damn you!” he cried in frustration. “Die already! Die! Die!”

  A pair of slim hands grabbed his shoulders from behind. He looked up, startled, instinctively raising a fist against this new attack. Then he stopped. It was Diana.

  “Orion, that’s enough!” she said. Her voice was raspy with exhaustion.

  He looked down at the demon’s body. He had been hacking at it with Jameson’s sword. It wasn’t moving.

  He looked past Diana toward the exit from the alley. The way back to the street was clear. The wall of fire trapping them was gone.

  “Did we finally kill it?” he asked softly.

  She nodded. “We’ve got to get out of here,” she said. “Find somewhere to get under cover.”

  He listened. He found it difficult to hear anything above the rasping of his own haggard breathing. He thought he heard marching feet, and harsh voices singing. The sounds were coming closer.

  “Can you make that out?” he asked.

  “Yes,” she said. “It’s the same chant we heard when the Hellmen were marching on the academy. We can’t go back to the main street, and it’s too late now to warn anyone about the trap. We’re already cut off.”

  Orion pointed toward the back of the alley. The gl
owing glyphs drawn on the stone were gone.

  “It should be safe to scale that wall now,” he said.

  She nodded. “Where will it lead us?”

  He shrugged. “Somewhere that’s not here. That’s the best we’ve got, right now. Come on.”

  Prince’s Stand

  Drawing on the ring had helped Gerard begin to understand, at least a little, the artifact’s powers and limits. His father had been right. It seemed to multiply his own magic many times. The well of energy it provided was enormous, and clearly proportional to his own strength. But it was not infinite.

  Cloaking himself during his hour-long flight across the city had already spent much of his reserve. Now he had not only to maintain that cloak, but to extend it. It had to cover everyone in the battle he would wage to save his sister from capture and murder. If it failed — if any of the thousands of other demons in the city noticed a confrontation of intense magical power unfolding on the terraces of the Upper City — then they would be lost. The alarm would spread, and reinforcements would surround them in minutes. And his mission to bring the ring to the Archmage would fail.

  Would that leave him enough strength to defeat an entire company of demons? He didn’t know.

  He grimaced. Summoning a rain of starfire had forced him to draw more heavily from his well of magic than he wanted, but he had to make that strike count. It was the most powerful spell he knew, and one that few wizards could cast. He had barely mastered it himself, and only recently, without help from the ring.

  He’d hoped it would panic the demons into flight, giving them a chance to escape. Clearly, that wasn’t going to happen. Emboldened or cowed by Ashrach’s goading, they were rushing him. He would have to fight.

  He swept his wand before him in an arc. White fire bloomed from it into the front line of monsters. He felt their magic trying to resist it, but the attempt was futile. The ring’s power surged through his spell, slicing through their defenses. Several of the weaker ones fell, cut in half by the line of flame. The rest reeled back or to the side, howling in pain. Many of them were set aflame.

  The second rank didn’t even slow down. They leaped over their fallen and burning comrades or shoved them aside, and charged.

  The guards sprang forward to meet them. Curved shields of silver bloomed before them as they threw themselves between the prince and the monsters. There was a savage exchange of blows, and a chorus of loud howls and cries. Several men and demons fell. But the shields — and the line of soldiers they were protecting — held.

  Kay’s bow sang. Her arrows flew through the silver magic and into the faces of the milling creatures, emerging with a soft argent glow of their own. So did the swords of the guards. Before their weapons had had little effect, and their armor had provided scant protection from the monsters’ claws. Now they fought fiercely, emboldened by the prince’s magic, their blows and arrows striking with devastating effect.

  Gerard lifted his arms and cast his levitation spell. Once again he rose into the air. Ashrach’s company had only a few flying demons, and they were circling, looking for an opening to attack. They were the biggest threat, since they might fly off in search of reinforcements. He had to take them out, and quickly.

  The ring blazed with silver light. Gerard’s wand pulsed, and another fusillade of starfire erupted from it. The blinding white bolts arced toward their targets with deadly precision. All of the winged monsters died, their ashes falling like snow onto the heads of demon and defender alike.

  The move exposed him. Fire and lightning struck him as he hovered in the air above the monsters. A hail of spears, rocks and arrows followed. The fire dissipated harmlessly, snuffed out by Flamebane’s magic. The rest bounced off or were absorbed by his fiery armor, with no apparent effect.

  He gestured with his wand. Spells of all kinds erupted from its tip and sped toward the demons, one after another. Fire, ice, and lightning blew through their ranks, killing and maiming. The ring cut through their defenses like a knife through paper. He concentrated his attacks on the center of their forces, hoping to undermine their press on the guards.

  But their line wouldn’t break — and he was beginning to feel the strain. The cloaking and levitation spells, the guards’ shields, the strikes on his armor, and his own constant attacks on the enemy, were all taking their toll. He was beginning to feel light-headed.

  He did not relent. Again and again he struck, blast after blast, bolt after bolt, never daring to pause or let up, killing demon after demon after demon. He could not let Randia be taken by these monsters. He had to force himself to keep going …

  A chain whipped up toward him from below. He tried to rise away from it, but he hadn’t seen the danger in time. It wrapped around his legs and held. Powerful arms pulled on it, dragging him toward the ground.

  He brought Flamebane around and slashed desperately at the links. They parted, but it was too late. Even as he cut through, three more chains lashed toward him. One wrapped around his sword arm, pinning it to his side and twisting Flamebane from his grasp. Another curled around his waist, and the third around his neck. His levitation spell, designed for gentler movements, couldn’t match the force of the monsters pulling on him. He fell, disappearing beneath the mob of demons.

  They pinned him to the ground and struck. Swords, claws, and spells tried to break through his defenses. Randia screamed.

  “Gerard! No!”

  Her knife lay only a few feet from her, where it had slain the wraith demon only minutes before. She stooped to grab it, and then sprinted toward the fight. Stefan ran beside her, brandishing his sword.

  Kay was already running ahead of them. “Break their line!” she cried. “Whatever the cost! He’ll be dead in seconds if we don’t!”

  She had reckoned without the power of the ring. Despite the vicious assault, its fiery armor was holding. But Gerard knew it wouldn’t last for long. He had to do something right away, or he would be overwhelmed.

  The ring’s armor magic was new to him, but he was a quick study when it came to such things. He could tell immediately that it was designed to work not only as a defensive power, but offensively as well. Perhaps all he had to do was “turn up the heat” a bit …

  His armor flared brilliantly as the ring responded to his command. Tongues of silver flame licked greedily at the demons. There was a loud hissing and popping sound, like fat thrown onto a roaring fire. The magic tore through the monsters’ defenses, searing their skin and hides like the press of a branding iron. The ones grappling the prince released him and threw themselves backward, howling in agony.

  Gerard hauled himself to his feet and spun. He looked around, brandishing his wand. Several of the demons had fallen to the ground, writhing in pain, their bodies disfigured by huge, sizzling burns. One had been ignited completely by the argent fire; it ran, immolated and screaming, toward the archway to the east. Human and monstrous bodies littered the glade around him, and the stench of death was thick in the air.

  “Randi, stay back!” he yelled. “I’m all right!”

  He wasn’t out of danger yet. At least ten of the creatures still stood against him, and they appeared to be the most powerful of the group. They circled him, approaching carefully, looking for an opening to attack. Some of them brandished long weapons that glowed eerily with demonic magic. Now that they had seen the hazard of touching his flaming armor, they were taking care not to get too close to it again.

  With loud cries and ringing steel the guards fell on the monsters from behind. Gerard smiled as he once again extended his silver shields to protect them, and to enchant their weapons. One of the demons went down under their onslaught, impaled by a dozen sword blows.

  Kay bent down to one of the fallen creatures. It was the one she’d shot to save Stefan, and it still had a bluesteel arrow embedded in its throat. She tore the missile free, inspected it, and smiled. Then she sprang up onto a stone bench, nocked it, and drew, searching for a target.

  “Don’t let t
he burning one get away!” Gerard called. “It’ll raise the alarm!”

  Kay nodded, aimed and fired. The arrow took the fleeing demon in the back. It collapsed to the alabaster walkway, its spine severed, flaming like a dropped torch.

  Ashrach barked orders in its fiendish tongue. The remaining enemy immediately split into two groups. Half of them followed it to charge the attacking guards. The rest turned to Gerard, and several of them struck him at once.

  The prince deflected the attacks with a gesture from his wand. A spinning disk of light flew from it, taking the head from one of the monsters.

  He staggered as they struck him again. Each exchange was using up more and more of the ring’s reserve, leaving less for him to fight with. His fiery armor was growing dull, and his counter-attacks weaker and more limited.

  Dizzy with exhaustion, he lost track of the battle. All he knew was that demons kept attacking him, and that he kept striking back — killing them, one at a time, with maddening slowness. Block, blast, stagger, riposte, again and again, draining the ring of every drop of power it could give him …

  Then he blinked. He looked around, disoriented, searching for the next foe to strike. There wasn’t one. The monsters around him were all dead.

  He turned. Only three of the guards were left standing, and they stood in pitched melee with the two remaining demons. One was Ashrach, swinging its enormous sword wildly with its remaining arm. The other was a huge gorilla-like beast. A pincushion of feathered shafts stuck from the side of its elephantine head, where Kay, still standing on her bench, had been firing at it.

  Ashrach saw the prince turn toward them. Without warning, and with surprising agility, it leaped over the guards’ heads. Its great sword flared with red magic, and then slashed down as it flew over them. The remnants of Gerard’s weakening shield around them shattered, and one of the men fell headless. The other two were knocked to the ground.

  When the demon landed, it ran straight for Randia. Stefan cried out and leaped in front of her, brandishing his sword.

 

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