Nightgrim strode down the lightless corridors. The demons followed him in a tight throng. He made his way through the winding passages, the halls of empty stone sarcophagi, the chambers of poisonous, reeking mushrooms, the galleries of crypts. Soon pale moonlight streamed from a rift in the ceiling. Nightgrim jumped and pulled himself up to one of the city’s streets. A short walk took him to the central square.
Thousands of reaper-ghouls ringed the great High Temple, sitting and staring. A demon knight rode towards Nightgrim.
“They have taken refuge within the High Temple,” rasped the rider.
“Marsile was right,” murmured Nightgrim.
“We cannot enter the High Temple,” said the knight. “Can you?”
“Alas, I cannot,” said Nightgrim.
“Then how will we slay them?” hissed the knight.
“Sir knight, no doubt you have many more centuries of experience than I,” said Nightgrim. “I am not, however, without skills. Might I prevail upon you to remain here for a few moments?”
The knight said nothing. Nightgrim wrapped himself in his dark cloak and glided towards the doors. He felt the Light in the building, shimmering like molten metal, and wanted to wince. Instead, he stared through the doors.
A fire burned near the altar. Near it lay Raelum, Arthuras, and Lionel. Nightgrim’s lips peeled back in a snarl. Carandis Marken stood near the fire, pacing in circles. Every now and again she glanced out the doors, though she gave no sign that she had seen anything amiss. Nightgrim focused his mind against the Adept’s thoughts. Carandis was tired, weary. Soon she would lie down, go to sleep, and Lionel would take a turn at watch…
Nightgrim stifled his laughter. Marked by Nightgrim’s taint, Lionel could not resist the call. First he would lure Lionel into the night. Then, one by one, he would turn the force of his gaze onto the others and lure them into the darkness.
He stood still and silent in his cloak, waiting.
###
“It’s your turn.”
Raelum rolled over and blinked awake. He saw Carandis tap Lionel with the butt of her staff. Lionel groaned and sat up, rubbing his wrist.
“Is anything amiss?” croaked Lionel.
“No. Nothing has changed.” Carandis waved her staff at the High Temple’s doors. The reaper-ghouls still stood, eyes burning with cold fire.
“By the Divine.” Lionel rolled to his feet, scooping up his sword. “I never thought I could sleep with hundreds of those things staring at us.” He looked at the ancient skeletons. “Or near the bodies of fallen martyrs.”
“If you’re tired enough,” said Carandis, “you can sleep anywhere.”
“That’s the Divine’s own truth,” said Lionel. Carandis lay down and fell asleep almost at once. Lionel buckled on his sword belt, sighed, and tossed more pieces of broken pew into the fire.
Raelum yawned and stood up.
“You’re supposed to be asleep,” said Lionel.
“I cannot sleep,” said Raelum, warming his hands over the fire. “At least not well.”
“You ought to be as tired as any of us,” said Lionel.
“True. But I still can’t sleep,” said Raelum.
“Aye,” said Lionel. He glanced out the doors. “I wish they would go away.”
“If Marsile has commanded them, they won’t move,” said Raelum.
“I wonder if Carandis can break the controlling spell,” said Lionel.
Raelum shrugged. “If she could, she would have done so.” He growled. “I was so close to Marsile. Another heartbeat and I would have put my sword through his chest.”
“We’ll catch him, eventually,” said Lionel.
“Or we’ll die here.”
Lionel rubbed his wrist. “Better to die in here. At least for me.”
“How is it?” said Raelum.
Lionel looked away. “The same. A little better, I suppose. I haven’t…well…”
“Cut yourself?”
Lionel’s head whipped around. “How do you know about that?”
“The cuts on your arm. They had to come from somewhere.”
“I couldn’t help myself,” whispered Lionel. “I just…wanted to look at the blood. To smell it. I couldn’t resist.” He looked down. “I am tainted, accursed. I am not fit to be a Silver Knight.”
“I doubt that,” said Raelum. “You’ll overcome this. We will find a way to purge the taint from your blood. Even if we have to hunt down Nightgrim.”
“He almost killed us all,” said Lionel. “He probably fled back to the western kingdoms, once he escaped from St. Tarill’s. We’ll never find him. And even if we do, he’ll kill us easily.”
“Perhaps,” said Raelum, “but perhaps not. He may have unfinished business with you, but I’ve the same with him. Wake me when my time comes for watch.”
Lionel nodded, still staring into the fire. Raelum rolled himself in his cloak and eventually fell back sleep.
###
“Unfinished business?” whispered Nightgrim, smiling to himself. “Sir, you forget yourself. I have unfinished business with you. And a gentleman always settles his debts.”
He waited, listening. Soon Raelum’s heartbeat and breathing slowed. Lionel paced, staring up at the pillars and saints. None of the others moved.
Nightgrim gathered his will, his demon’s power welling up within him, and focused on Lionel. He felt the taint in Lionel’s blood, calling to the darkness.
“Look at me,” whispered Nightgrim. “Look at me.”
Lionel froze, trembling.
Nightgrim laughed. “Look at me!”
Lionel turned, staring into the night, and Nightgrim caught his gaze.
###
Lionel stared into the darkness. The scar on his wrist felt like a band of burning ice. His blood roared, his heart hammering like a drumbeat.
He felt something staring at him from the night.
“Come to me,” whispered a voice in his mind, “come to me.”
Lionel staggered forward, entranced. The reaper-ghouls snapped, snarled, and drew back. In their midst stood a tall man, swathed in a black cloak. His black eyes seemed like dead stars, deep and bottomless. Something screamed in the deeps Lionel’s mind, but he didn’t care.
He could not turn back from the eyes.
Lionel stepped into the cold night. The reaper-ghouls lunged at him, but the tall man raised his hand, and the reaper-ghouls fell back.
“Well, well,” purred the man, “so you’ve come back to me, my little wayward sheep.”
“Yes,” muttered Lionel.
“And now I’m going to finish what I began,” said the tall man.
“Yes,” said Lionel.
The man smiled, a glimmer of crimson fire coloring the black eyes. “Of course. I suspect you’d agree with anything I said just now. Now…throw your sword and dagger into the Temple.”
Lionel nodded. He unbuckled his sword belt and flung the weapons back into the Temple. They clattered and came to a stop against a pillar.
“Very good,” said the tall man, the crimson light in his eyes brightening. “Come with me. I’m going to take you into the catacombs beneath the city. And then you’re going to die screaming in the darkness.”
“Yes,” said Lionel.
“Follow,” said the tall man.
Lionel obeyed, following the tall man into the darkness, an escort of reaper-ghouls trailing them.
###
Raelum woke up.
He felt terribly cold. Had the fire gone out? He sat up and saw that the fire still crackled, smoke rising to the ceiling. Arthuras and Carandis lay sleeping near the altar.
Lionel was nowhere in sight.
Raelum sprang to his feet. Had Lionel wandered off? He scanned the shadows, the High Temple’s balcony and shrines.
He saw nothing.
“Wake up,” said Raelum, tapping the others.
Carandis muttered a curse and sat up. Arthuras came awake at once, hand clenching his sword hilt.
“What is it?”
“Lionel,” said Raelum. “He’s vanished.”
“Vanished?” said Carandis. “Surely he was not foolish enough to wander outside?”
“I don’t know,” said Raelum. “He should have awakened me for the watch.” He took another look around. The reaper-ghouls outside the doorway stared at him.
“We’ll discuss it later,” said Arthuras. “Search the Temple. And for the sake of the gods, don’t wander outside.”
Raelum paced down the aisle, staring at the shadowed balconies. The fire did not provide enough light to pierce the gloom. He drew his sword and raised it high. The blade flamed to life in response to the demons, the reaper-ghouls flinching, and Raelum swung his sword back and forth like a torch, peering into the shadows. Where could Lionel have gone? Surely he would not have gone outside. Had Lionel wandered off to explore the Temple? He had never done anything so negligent before. Raelum stepped around the altar and his boot tapped the priest’s skeleton. The golden medallion of the Divine clattered across the stone step. Raelum picked it up and heard Arthuras call out.
He hastened to the doors. Arthuras knelt on the floor, only a few feet from the reaper-ghouls. Raelum and Carandis hurried to his side.
Lionel’s sword belt lay on the floor, his sword and silver dagger still in their sheaths.
“Surely he would not have thrown down his weapons and strode into the city?” said Carandis.
Arthuras shook his head. “Perhaps he came too close to the doors and the demons snatched him.”
“Without a struggle?” said Raelum. “The sound would have awakened us at the very least.” He stared at the demons. A few lesser ghouls stood among the reaper-ghouls. They looked familiar. But where could he have seen them before? On sudden impulse, Raelum reached out with his demonborn senses.
The malignant aura of the demons ringing the High Temple washed over him. He sensed many more lurking in the ruins, and still more prowling beneath the earth. One demon of hideous power moved underground. Was this mighty demon the lord of the city?
Then he recognized the demon’s aura with a shock of horror.
“Nightgrim.”
“Nightgrim?” said Carandis. “Surely he could not have tracked us here. And even if he had, he couldn’t enter the High Temple.”
“The ghouls,” said Raelum, sudden recognition striking him. “Look at them! We’ve seen them before. They were villagers in Abbotsford. They tried to kill us.”
Carandis swore, softly. “You’re right.”
One of the ghouls began to laugh. With a terrible shock, Raelum realized the creature had once been the old woman who had confronted him in Abbotsford.
“The great one,” hissed the ghoul, “the great master lured out the pretty gold-haired knight! Aye, the master took him to the catacombs, and he’ll feast on him there!” The creature cackled. “He’ll kill you all, the master will, and you’ll serve him!”
“He shall not!” roared Raelum. He stepped forward and destroyed the wretched ghoul with a single mighty swing of his sword. Even as the ghoul’s remains collapsed, a dozen other reaper-ghouls sprang for Raelum. Carandis and Arthuras yanked him back into the High Temple, and the demons fell back with a disappointed hiss.
“Nightgrim must have followed us to Abbotsford,” said Carandis. “He slaughtered the villagers for their blood, raised them as demons, and came here. But why?”
“Revenge, perhaps,” said Arthuras. “Or mayhap the creature has a pact with Marsile.” He stiffened. “That explains how Marsile controlled so many demons. Or, rather, Nightgrim controls them. The greater demon of a draugvir can rule innumerable lesser demons.”
“Then we free Lionel and destroy Nightgrim,” said Raelum.
“Are you mad?” said Carandis. “We can’t go out there.”
“I can sense Nightgrim,” said Raelum, “I can track him down.”
“So you can,” said Carandis. “But we’ll die before we even go five paces.”
“And are we to leave Lionel to Nightgrim?” said Raelum, snarling.
Carandis scowled. “It is a hideous fate. I wish it were not so. But we’ve no other choice.”
“No,” said Raelum. “I won’t accept that.”
“You cannot go,” said Arthuras. “Even if you do find Nightgrim, do you any hope of defeating the fiend? I faced a draugvir at night, the beast my mother had become. I barely survived. We must wait until dawn. Then we will have a chance of breaking out.”
“And leave Lionel to be that fiend’s slave?” said Raelum.
“Once the sun rises, we will find Nightgrim and destroy him and...whatever Lionel has become,” said Arthuras. “But you cannot go! You will fall, the reaper-ghouls will bear away your corpse, and you will rise as one of them.”
Time and time again Raelum had failed. He had failed to save Sister Julietta and the orphans. He had failed to save Sir Oliver from Marsile’s poison. Sir Oliver was dead, and Julietta had no doubt died a horrid death on the slave ship. But Lionel yet lived, at least for a little while. Raelum had promised to help him.
And while Raelum drew breath, he would not turn back.
“So be it,” he whispered. He scooped up Lionel’s sword belt, and slung it over his shoulder.
“Do not!” said Carandis, reaching for him.
Raelum drew on the Light, filling himself with strength and speed, and dashed through the doors.
His furious attack tore through three reaper-ghouls. The other demons fell back in disarray, and Raelum broke into a tearing sprint, dodging and hacking. With any luck, he could break through the ring of demons and reach the pits leading into the city’s catacombs.
A festerling loomed before him, noxious smoke rising from bubbling flesh. Raelum skidded aside, glancing back and forth. Reaper-ghouls closed on him from every direction. Raelum ran, hacking at his enemies, but for every one he killed three more took its place. Bit by bit, the demons herded him towards one of the ruined houses. Raelum fought, his sword whirling, but to no avail.
Every now and again one reaper-ghoul broke from the pack to rush him, and Raelum always destroyed it. But sooner or later his arms would tire, and then the whole hideous horde would have him. In the distance he saw the pale green glow of the festerlings’ gases. A dozen of the bloated demons wobbled towards him, shoving aside the reaper-ghouls.
Another reaper-ghoul sprang at him, slashing. Raelum parried, growling. His boot slipped, his foot skidding back, and Raelum fell to one knee. The reaper-ghoul shrieked and reached towards his throat. Raelum swung his free fist, trying to beat back the creature.
The reaper-ghoul wailed and stumbled back, smoke rising from its flesh. Raelum stared at his left hand in surprised wonder.
The golden rose medallion of the Divine dangled from his wrist, swinging from its chain. He had carried it, forgotten, through his whole mad charge. The gold felt warm under his skin. Had the long-dead Brother used it in the consecration of the High Temple?
Did the sigil carry some of the consecration?
“Back,” said Raelum, thrusting the medallion. The reaper-ghouls flinched, the fires in their eyes flickering. “Back!” Raelum stepped forward, swinging the symbol like a blade.
It began to shimmer with white-gold light. The reaper-ghouls crept back, the maddened hunger on their distorted faces replaced with growing terror.
“Back!” roared Raelum. “In the name of the Divine, back!”
The sigil blazed like a small sun in Raelum’s fist. Raelum strode forward, the symbol held before him, and the demons fled.
Raelum muttered a brief prayer of thanks and gave the miracle no further thought. He sprinted through the nameless city and found one of the yawning pits in the middle of the street. Raelum drew on the Light, jumped, and landed in the brick-lined tunnel. He sensed Nightgrim nearby, some distance below. Raelum resumed his run.
He did not have much time.
###
Lionel awoke.
He had dream
t the most horrid dream. Nightgrim had led him through the city’s empty streets, surrounded by endless armies of hideous, grinning demons.
He opened his eyes to utter blackness. Had the fire gone out?
He tried to stand up, only to find that someone had bound his wrists and ankles. He lay spread-eagled on a slab of cold stone. Lionel struggled, trying to break free, and drew on the Light to grant him strength.
Cold fingers touched the scar on his left wrist. Lionel shrieked. A wave of icy darkness washed through him, and the Light slipped from his grasp.
“Really, sir,” said a cultured voice. “You are a guest in my humble residence. I had thought such antics beneath you.”
Every muscle in Lionel’s body crawled. He remembered that voice. It had mocked him even as its owner had feasted on the blood welling from the wound…
It was Nightgrim.
Lionel heard himself scream and scream, his voice high and reedy. Nightgrim’s resonant laughter boomed off the walls.
“I see you have not forgotten our last meeting,” said Nightgrim. “I feared I had not made much of an impression. How good of you to remember.”
Lionel kept screaming.
A cold hand seized his jaw, clamping it shut. “Please, sir, I must ask that you dispense with petty theatrics. It is entirely beneath a gentleman.” Lionel thrashed against the bonds. “Now…where were we? Do you remember?” Lionel smelled the ancient blood on Nightgrim’s breath. “Ah…from your reaction, I see that you do. Very good! Still…I am at a lost as to what we shall do afterwards. Will I permit you to rise as my slave? Or, perhaps, shall I feed your carcass to my servants?” Claws scraped against stone. “Or, better yet, will I leave you down here and let the hunger devour you from within?” His hand closed about Lionel’s throat. “Yes. Fitting. I know the hunger very well, you see…and I do not like to be denied.”
###
Raelum had gone into hell.
The Third Soul Omnibus Two Page 38