The Devil's Deuce (The Barrier War)

by Brian J Moses

  They were all dressed in gray clothing to blend with the shadows and the mud-churned snow on the ground, and despite the frozen ground, they moved soundlessly as they approached the outer limits of the Merishank camp. Brican was on point with Trebor’s squad, but Trebor stayed behind with the command group where he would be most effective. The denarae brought them through the outer patrols and sentries with ease. They were well-practiced in sneaking through the Merishank lines, and it seemed all their previous excursions were nothing but practice runs for this one all-important mission. Danner’s group had left their cloaks behind, with no need for them on this run, and even the paladins had left their cloaks behind so they would camouflage better.

  They stayed low to the ground, alternating between a crouching walk and a low-crawl with their bellies pressed to the ground. They moved swiftly, because of their need to finish their mission and escape before the sun rose and destroyed the cover of night. Fortunately they had plenty of time.

  “Command group, freeze and melt,” Trebor kythed. Immediately, Danner and the others stopped moving and shifted unobtrusively into the nearest shadows. A soldier staggered past, thick with either sleep or drink, and stopped briefly to sway in place. Just when Danner was considering a stealthy attack to knock the man out, he shook his head and staggered off toward a cluster of tents in the distance. When he was lost in the darkness, Trebor gave the all-clear and they resumed their incursion.

  They passed through the sentry lines in slightly more than an hour’s time, which left them in good stead for the rest of their mission. When they reached the first group of tents, Gerard passed the word for them to split up and meet at a designated location approximately one hundred yards from the command tent. The command group split up as well, each of them accompanied by a denarae who would guide them along. Danner went with Trebor, as usual.

  The two slipped through the flickering darkness like a pair of shadows, moving from tent to tent on swift but silent feet. As they crossed a wide gap between one section of the camp and the next, the nature of the camp changed abruptly. On one side of the gap, it was the same camp they’d been infiltrating for weeks and probably mimicked a million army encampments from a hundred different nations across history. It was loosely organized and haphazard, a place of controlled chaos and masculine showmanship. No doubt many of the men in the First Merishank were consummate soldiers and had made their life in service to their country. But it was clear many of the men were conscripts or else men just serving a few years before they planned to leave and get on with their lives.

  That changed when they crossed the gap, and Danner had the unmistakable impression that the men on the far side looked with some disdain on their more slovenly compatriots and had insisted on the gap so as not to contaminate their own encampment. As Danner and Trebor crept through the new section, they were surrounded by the trappings of the Imperial Army, and the camp itself was far cleaner and laid out in a more orderly fashion than the previous areas Danner had reconnoitered. The sentries were more alert, the gear was in better repair, and it seemed even the fires burned brighter somehow. These were professional soldiers, men who had built their lives around a career in the military and would serve their days until death or infirmity severed their tenure.

  Trebor located Gerard, and within a few minutes the command group had reassembled. Ten minutes later, the last of the denarae checked in, and they were ready for their final approach.

  “Brican, take point,” Gerard ordered via Trebor’s kything. “Trebor and Danner, you’re next. Signal me when you’re in position and you’ve inspected the scene. Shadow Company, spread out and conceal yourselves nearby. Report anything that seems out of place or abnormal. I don’t trust this to come off without a hitch. Garnet, you’re with me.”

  They all replied in the affirmative, then moved to carry out his orders. Brican melted into the shadows, which accepted him like one of their own. He passed word to Trebor and Danner, who followed carefully after.

  The command tent was fifty feet across and probably had multiple divisions within. By misfortune, none of the denarae had ever been able to get an accurate kythe from any of the upper echelons of the Merishank leadership, so they didn’t know exactly what the inside of the tent looked like. It was the major weakness of their plan. If they couldn’t find the demon in time, or if they were discovered while searching the tent, the alarm would be given, and they would probably be slaughtered.

  “Four guards outside,” Trebor reported to Gerard. “The next-nearest guards are fifty feet away. A dozen of them. Brican reads ten men inside.”

  “Can he get a layout of the tent?” Gerard asked.

  “No,” Trebor said, and heard Gerard’s mental curse. “They would have to be thinking about their surroundings for him to get it. A deeper kythe would work, but it might alert the demon if he’s controlling their minds. He said they’re really not thinking about anything, like their minds are blank.”

  “Understood. Garnet and I are moving in now,” Gerard thought. “Find me ten men to accompany us into the tent. I want them able to mindblast the guards inside and out.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Since their accidental discovery of the overwhelming effects of the tight denarae kythe – the mindblast as it was colloquially known, thanks to Flasch – Trebor had experimented with it on his friends, satisfying his theory that it was not a side-effect unique to Danner, but something that occurred in any human. His friends had headaches for an hour afterwards, but they’d found that with a kythe focused tightly enough, a trained denarae with a strong enough gift for kything could render a human unconscious for a short period of time. At the very least, the pain it caused was disorienting and gave an advantage to an attacker. The concentration required to do it well prevented it from being something they could readily use in the middle of a fight, but as a precursor to combat, it had the potential to give them a significant edge.

  “Ready, sir,” Trebor reported when the last of the assigned denarae had reported in position.

  “Now!”

  A moment later, the four guards outside the tent dropped their swords and clutched their heads, but it was already too late. Before they had a chance to even cry out, they were toppling forward. Denarae rushed from nearby shadows and caught them before they crashed to the ground, which would have revealed their presence. Fortunately the ground outside the tent was still piled with snow and had muffled the sound of their weapons being dropped.

  The guards were laid carefully on the ground, but Danner, Trebor, Garnet, and Gerard were already hurtling past them into the tent. Shadow Company soldiers followed on their heels, and entered the room already blasting out with their focused kythes.

  - 2 -

  As Danner entered, he saw there were no divisions in the tent. It was one large room, and strangely enough there was no furniture. The ten men inside were already standing rigidly still when the denarae entered behind Danner, and they toppled to the ground without making a sound. Something about their statue-like stance disturbed Danner, and he looked around carefully.

  “Something’s wrong,” he said in a low voice, ignoring the order for verbal silence.

  Inhuman laughter echoed from the air around them, and the high top of the tent rustled as though a thousand birds were trapped within the tent, endlessly circling and buffeting against the canvas in an attempt to escape. Danner heard a noise like a hundred cats screeching and hissing in an awful cacophony. There were dozens of holes in the roof of the tent, as though those same cats had been clawing at the canvas.

  “Right you are, young paladin,” the voice said, and to Danner it sounded the same as the voice he’d heard months before in the Prismatic headquarters. It was the voice of one of The Three. Tiny puffs of dirt accompanied soft thuds on the ground, and Danner’s eyes widened as he searched for the threat he knew was present.

  Before Danner could look further, his wrist burned and he cried out as three claw marks appeared from nowhere, ripp
ing through his leather sleeves like paper. Blood welled, and the skin around the wounds immediately turned an angry red color. The others in his group cried out and clutched similar wounds that appeared at random around their bodies. One denarae cried out and reached as though to pull something from his shoulders, but his hands clutched empty air – or so it looked at first glance.

  “Invisible demons,” Gerard cried out, swinging at a spot near his ankle where a fresh wound had just opened. A severed claw suddenly appeared by his foot, then it evaporated in a thick black smoke. A horrible wailing filled the air, and Danner heard something scrambling awkwardly around in agony.

  The others tried to emulate Gerard’s lucky swing, but succeeded only in slashing at empty air. The invisible demons were more careful after Gerard’s attack, and they darted in to attack and then dodged away before the humans and denarae could react.

  “Danner,” Trebor kythed, “turn on your wings! Brican, push through Danner’s barrier and send me his vision.”

  Not seeing what good it could do, Danner nevertheless concentrated briefly and asolved his wings. Immediately, the room was filled with several dozen cat-sized demons, darting about his friends and grinning maliciously as they inflicted small but painful wounds at will.

  “Yes!” Trebor exulted, and swung unerringly at the nearest demon, cutting it in half. Soon, all of the denarae in the room were attacking the demons. Danner joined in, belatedly realizing the denarae were looking through his mind to see what he saw. They adapted their attacks to compensate for his perspective, which was much like trying to attack while looking in a mirror. The demons injured by the denarae quickly healed themselves, even the one bisected by Trebor, but those attacked by the three paladins disappeared in a cloud of black smoke. The denarae were still able to slow and distract the demons until the paladins could finish them off, and the creatures were decimated before they realized what was happening. Within a minute of Danner unfurling his wings, the last of the demons was so much smoke dissipating in the air.

  “Pathetic,” Gerard yelled into the tent. “Is that all you could gather on short notice, or were these just pets you kept about, demon?”

  “How?” the disembodied voice howled. “What are you?”

  Danner quickly scanned the massive tent and saw a child-sized demon crouched in one corner. It was gray-skinned and hairless, with smooth flesh that nevertheless looked like the rough bark from an oak tree. Elongated, pointy ears stood out from a round head, and tiny, needle-like teeth were bared behind wide lips as the demon snarled at Danner.

  “I’m the guy who destroyed your brother,” Danner said. “Nephew to Birch, the Gray paladin, who slew your other misbegotten sibling. The Three are broken, and now to be destroyed.”

  The demon howled in outrage, maddened by the revelation of Danner’s identity as the murderer of its brother. Ran ─ Danner wasn’t sure how he knew this one’s name, but he did ─ stepped from the corner and crouched to the ground. His body began to pulse and writhe grotesquely, and in the space of three heartbeats he’d changed into a full-sized, black dakkan in dragon form. And still he grew. He ripped through the tent and flung the material free with a shake of his head, then bellowed deafeningly. When he was twice as large as a normal dakkan, Ran roared a challenge and darted his head toward Danner.

  “Can you see it?” Danner shouted as he leapt out of the way, narrowly avoiding teeth as long as he was tall. Ran’s head crashed into the ground, knocking most of the denarae from their feet in a spray of earth and snow.

  “Yes,” Garnet shouted in reply, his eyes wide.

  “Then kill it!” Gerard ordered brusquely.

  Those denarae who had retained their footing rushed forward, but three were crushed as Ran stomped a massive paw into the ground. He raised his black talons, dripping with blood, and roared into the sky. The last two who had attacked reached his hind leg and struck with their swords, but the metal just bounced off like they were attacking a stone wall.

  “It’s no good,” one cried, then was flung aside as Ran kicked him. The denarae landed a dozen feet away and lay motionless, his head crushed by the blow.

  “Let’s go, Garnet,” Gerard shouted, already running forward with his sword upraised. The two Red paladins ran side by side, then split up as Ran swiped first one, then both front claws at them. Gerard rolled on the ground, narrowly avoiding the black claws that passed within inches of his body. He swung his sword, but missed as the claws swept past.

  “When will fools learn bigger isn’t necessarily better,” Gerard muttered.

  Garnet ran closer and attacked one of the hind legs, cutting deeply into the ebony scales. Black blood sprayed out and hissed in the snow as Ran bellowed in pain and kicked, but Garnet leapt back to avoid the blow. He slipped in the snow and lost his balance, then Ran’s tail swept around and crashed into him from behind, crushing Garnet between the tail and the thick leg. Trebor immediately grabbed Brican and two other denarae who had regained their feet, and they rushed forward to extract the fallen paladin.

  Danner meanwhile had taken to the air and was sweeping around Ran’s head, trying to distract the demon. But Ran’s attention was everywhere at once, his maddened state of mind enhancing his already powerful abilities. Danner dodged back from Ran’s jaws as teeth snapped shut in front of him, and he pumped his wings furiously to evade a slashing claw.

  He ducked and swooped under two claws, then flew along Ran’s wrist and forearm. With his sword, Danner cut a long gash down the demon’s arm, then wheeled away before Ran could retaliate. The wound hissed and burned as black blood splashed out onto the white snow.

  “Remember, you have to draw the Tricrus to destroy him,” Trebor kythed. Even his mental voice was panting with the effort of talking to Danner through his innate mental barrier while trying to drag Garnet clear of danger.

  “Tell the bastard to hold still then,” Danner replied. Ran stayed constantly in motion, which would make completing the Tricrus that much more difficult. “Make sure you kythe Gerard,” Danner added, flying clear of the demon’s swooping claws to catch his breath. Using his wings didn’t seem to physically tire out Danner, but twisting and weaving to avoid Ran’s talons was enough to make his heart race.

  “Who do you think told me to remind you?” Trebor kythed. “I’ve got Garnet clear. Damn, he looks bad. I’ll have to heal him now. He’s out, though.”

  “Right.”

  Then Danner swooped back in, shouting to draw Ran’s attention toward him. Gerard was rushing in from below, and the two struck almost simultaneously. Gerard carved a deep furrow into Ran’s flesh on the leg Garnet hadn’t attacked, and Danner succeeded in lopping off one of the massive fingers that sought to crush his life from him.

  Ran howled in agony, then backhanded Danner and sent him reeling into a nearby tent, pulling the poles and canvas down around him. Danner’s near impregnable nature protected him from the mundane damage of crashing into the tent, but the demon’s blow left him feeling like someone had run over his chest with a cart full of pig iron. Had he not been part-immortal, the demon’s attack would have pulverized him.

  “Wait a second,” Danner muttered, shaking his head to reorient himself. “Maybe.” He closed his eyes in resignation. “Oh, this is gonna hurt.”

  Danner launched himself back into the air and flew quickly to gain altitude, but he flew away from the battle with Ran. He reached what he felt was a sufficient height, then wheeled and flew back toward the demon. Were it not for his glowing wings, Danner would be completely hidden by the night and all but undetectable to the demon’s senses. So Danner dekinted them.

  Without his cloak, Danner plummeted toward the gigantic demon-dakkan, approaching Ran from behind. Danner’s sudden reversion to his wholly mortal state confused Ran, and he looked to each side trying to find where he might have gone. But he didn’t look straight up; Ran was distracted by Gerard’s next attack and didn’t realize which direction Danner had gone.

  “Trebor,
relay to Gerard to be ready to finish the job from below,” he thought, hoping Trebor was tuned in to hear him.

  At the last possible second, Danner asolved his wings for the protection they offered, then plunged his sword into the back of Ran’s skull. His sword was pitifully small against the sheer size of the demon, but Danner had to use whatever effect he could to distract Ran, and the momentum of his dive slammed the blade of blessed steel through Ran’s scales and buried the sword to the hilt. Half a heartbeat later, Danner slammed into the black, scaly surface. Had he not had the protection of his immortal heritage, the impact would have crushed every bone in his body. As it was, the pain from his earlier impact redoubled and his head spun in agony. Just touching the demon caused pain, as every inch of his exposed flesh that came in contact with the black scales seemed to catch fire simultaneously, and black and blue sparks hissed away from the contact.

  The immense demon reared his head in pain and tried to slap Danner from his neck, but Ran was distracted and missed Danner. Ran succeeded only in tearing into his own scaly flesh, worsening the damage. Danner pulled his sword free and jumped forward, pumping his wings once for extra distance as he shook his head to clear his suddenly blurry vision. The pain in his body from touching the demon faded a moment later as he let his legs swing over his head and hung upside down over Ran’s head. Eternity stretched between one heartbeat and the next as he looked into a giant burning orb, seeing the terror and hatred blazing within the demon’s gaze. Then his heart thudded, breaking the moment, and he plunged his sword into the demon’s left eye.

  This time, when Ran jerked his head in pain, his snout smashed into Danner and knocked him away, and Danner plummeted to the ground, leaving his sword embedded in Ran’s eye socket. Danner’s lungs emptied in a rush of air as he crunched into a snow bank, and he lay stunned for a moment, barely able to breathe. He rolled over and pushed himself to his hands and knees, gasping for breath even as he looked up for the next attack.