by M. Walsh
Still, he thought, it was better than keeping up on foot.
It was still early morning when they reached the old ruins again. The ancient towers looked ominous as ever, still shrouded in fog with dark clouds overhead. The Sentries were able to pick up a trail heading west that was a day old. They followed it for another hour before coming to a stop to let the horses rest.
“Rest up,” said Drake. “We move again in a twenty.”
Wells and Dillon pulled Krutch off the steed and dropped him on the ground. Getting dragged and thrown around while tied up was unpleasant, but he welcomed a break from riding the horse.
The Sentries talked amongst themselves, drinking from canteens, and studying the tracks they were following. He didn’t hear them, nor did he really care. What mattered was they were going to try and stop Daredin. He didn’t know how, but he hoped the ensuing chaos—because, honestly, wasn’t there always—would create an opportunity for him to escape.
With Lily, he thought.
He looked over and found a boot in front of him. Looking up, Vogel was standing over him with an expressionless face. “Tell me, Mr. Leeroy,” Vogel said, crouching beside him. “What do you know of our Ms. Blackthorn?”
“She seemed really nice.”
“I don’t suppose she mentioned me, did she?”
“No, she did. We spotted you with Drake in the woods.” Krutch shifted over, trying to create a little distance between himself and Vogel. Nodding toward the Sentries, he said, “You might have them fooled, but Lily told me all about you.”
“And what did she say about me?” Vogel asked, lighting his pipe.
“That you’ve been following her and you’re going to kill her.”
“Is that what she thinks? Why would she think that?”
He hesitated, perplexed by Vogel’s tone. It was flat and analytical, as though this was new information he was gathering. He shook it off, figuring the guy was trying to swerve him like he did the Sentries.
“You tell me,” he said. “Is it because she doesn’t fit into your psycho worldview?”
“Mr. Leeroy, do you have any idea what I do?”
“You’re like a priest or something.”
A bemused smile formed on Vogel’s face. “A priest..? I never thought of myself that way. No, Mr. Leeroy, I hunt demons. What ties I have to religion are primarily for hunting purposes.”
“So what does that have to do with Lily?”
“I’ve been tracking a particular demon for the past month. I first picked up the trail in the north, outside Coldstone, and I’ve been following it down this way.” He paused, taking a puff from his pipe. “Hardly unusual. Most demons are nomadic. My hunt led me to the town of Canton, where I happened to cross paths with our mutual acquaintance. There was something about her I found ... striking, shall we say. I had hoped to question her, but she turned me away and has been fleeing from me ever since.”
“So what are you saying?” Krutch asked. “You think she’s a demon?”
“I would be very surprised if she was,” Vogel said, chuckling. “After all, you say you’ve been traveling with her for the past couple days, and you’re not dead.” He chuckled again. “No, but I do believe she’s in some way connected to the demon I’m seeking.”
“How..?”
“That’s what I hoped to find out.” Vogel sighed. “But you say she’s convinced I aim to kill her. That would certainly explain her trying to avoid me. Tell me, what made her think I intended her harm?”
“She said you were, like, some kind of priest from a cult she belonged to. And you were looking to kill her because she didn’t fit in and ran away.”
“Interesting,” said Vogel.
Krutch found himself struck dumb. His first instinct was Vogel was lying. Of course he’d tell the Sentries he was a demon hunter who only wanted to question Lily. And if he killed her, he could conjure up some excuse she was connected to the supposed demon he was hunting.
But what if he was telling the truth?
“So,” he said, “what..? Why would she lie..?”
“I had a theory,” said Vogel, looking contemplative. “And what you’ve said might give some credence to it. I think Lily might be under the influence of the demon or perhaps even possessed by it.”
“The shit, you say.”
“I doubt she’s aware of it, but the creature could be subconsciously influencing her—making her think I intend to harm her.”
“Could the cult she’s running from have something to do with it?”
“It’s conceivable. I’ve heard of dark ceremonies that could bond demons to a person’s soul.”
Krutch didn’t know what to think. The thought he might have been traveling with someone who had a demon attached to their soul made his blood run cold. Vogel could just be lying, though. This could be how he suckers people into believing him—but what if..?
“Can you help her?” he asked. “I mean, if she is possessed, can you—I don’t know—drive the demon out or something..?”
Vogel took a final puff of his pipe and dumped the ashes on the ground. He eyed Krutch with a curious look on his face. “You care about this girl, don’t you?”
“So what if I do?”
Vogel chuckled and shrugged. “Just doesn’t seem like something the infamous Krutch Leeroy would think.”
“Whatever,” he groaned. “Can you help her or not?”
Just as Vogel was about to answer, Drake ordered everyone to move out. He placed his pipe into his pocket and started back to his horse. He stopped to say, “Depending on the demon, it is within my skill to exorcise. If Ms. Blackthorn is possessed, I will do what I can to free her.”
Krutch was propped up behind Wells again, and they were off. As they rode, he tried to take in his conversation with Vogel. Could what he said be true? As they were traveling through the woods, he kept sensing something unusual about Lily. Vogel himself even said there was something “striking” about her.
What if it was a demon anchored to her soul? What if it was only making her think Vogel wanted to hurt her? Pursuing that line of thought, Krutch thought about what kind of cult Lily could’ve been a part of—one that would bond a demon to her soul or want her dead. And he compared this to Katrina being sacrificed by a sorcerer who utilized demons.
All at once, a profound light went off in Krutch’s head. What if it was all connected? What if everything that happened was meant to be?
But how would he fit into all this? What was his purpose in this insane story? For a moment, he considered maybe he was the unforeseen link. The unlikely, but critical piece that brought it all together.
Was there some greater force at work? Had his life been leading to this? Had everything—the curse, his reputation, getting his gun, being dragged around by Hobbs, hired by Kader, finding Lily—all of it was leading to this crucial moment?
Was this the moment Krutchington Barnabas Leeroy Jr. finally stepped up and fulfilled a destiny of his own..?
None of this was true—but that’s what he thought.
* * *
It was later than Lily would’ve liked when they reached the Blind Cliffs. Although it couldn’t be seen behind the clouds, the sun had sunk just below the horizon, and the world had taken a sinister shade of red. The clouds looked like blood and ink smeared over charcoal. The ocean was dark and maroon, and waves crashed violently against the rocks hundreds of feet below.
Despite the overcast sky, a fat yellow moon could be seen breaking through. In just a short time, the Devil’s Moon would be directly over the looming tower that stood like an ominous sentinel on its stone perch. Arches and spires reached into the sky, and with the various windows glowing yellow and orange from candlelight, it reminded Lily of the citadels in the Dark Lands.
She and Scifer Bréag kept their distance, staying hidden behind boulders and hills nearby. Scifer had said little since she explained who Daredin was and what his ambitions were. It became clear whatever he was hoping to ac
complish here, any connection to her goals was incidental. She didn’t mind—under the circumstances, she accepted the help she could get.
There was a single bridge leading to the tower from the mainland. As far as she could tell, it was the only way in or out, and it was patrolled by several armored orcs. A handful of gargoyles glided high in the air around the fortress like vultures. Lily suspected the majority of Daredin’s human disciples were inside—probably to witness the ceremony.
She felt evil in the air. It wasn’t like the cemetery where she and Katrina hid from the Enforcer. That was holy ground, and it was repellent to her kind. The moment she set foot near the sacred ground, she felt pain throb in her body, stinging to her core.
But Daredin’s tower radiated evil. But what really chilled her blood was the sense of longing that came with it. These were her kind. She was a creature of the Black, just as they were. A part of her felt compelled to step forward and pledge herself to their cause.
Tearing her gaze away from the tower, she turned her head down and shut her eyes. She took measured breaths and had her hand over her heart. I can do this, she thought. I’m not like them. I’m not a part of them.
You’re the anomaly, a voice suddenly said in her head. It might have been Vogel’s, she wasn’t sure. The freak, remember?
She dragged her hand through her hair, taking a deep breath, and tried to decide how much comfort she should take from that. She looked at Scifer, and he looked bored.
“So what’s the plan, fearless leader?” he asked.
“Good question,” she replied.
She looked back at the bridge. It was made of stone, and although the top side was smoothed out, the underside was unrefined and resembled the ceiling of a cave. Staring at it, she considered she could climb beneath the bridge, using her claws and strength. The only question then was how would Scifer get in?
“I think I can climb along the underside of the bridge,” she said. “Can you think of a way to get in yourself?”
He looked toward the bridge. It was lined with around ten orcs patrolling up and down. “Maybe. I’d need time though.”
“How much?”
“I don’t know. Depends.” He paused. “I wouldn’t wait for me.”
“So I should just hope I don’t wind up stuck in there by myself?” She sighed. “Great.”
“Would you rather I went up and asked politely?”
“No. I guess we’ll just have to make do with what we’ve got.”
As she started to sneak toward the edge of the cliffs, she heard Scifer behind her. “Don’t worry. I’ll show up just when you need me most or when it’s most dramatic—whichever comes first.”
* * *
Jacob Daredin stood on the balcony of the tower apex, staring at the Devil’s Moon. He felt the increasing wind through his hair, smelled the seawater around him, and basked in the intangible sensation of—for lack of a better term—evil all around him.
Perhaps it was childish to label the powers he reveled in as “evil,” but in all honesty, he held no delusions as to who and what he was. He was not so deluded to think there was much “justification” in his wanting to become the new Dark Emperor and unite the demons and creatures of the Black under his rule.
He craved power and had every intention of imposing his will onto those beneath him with maximum cruelty. A choice between that and being some low-level wizard, healing scabs or performing parlor tricks was no choice at all. Perhaps if he had a better childhood, but he chose not to dwell on such things.
What mattered was his time had at last come. He looked down on the wide courtyard below him, slowly filling up with a small legion of his devoted followers and believers. When the Devil’s Moon reached its apex, he would sacrifice Katrina Lamont with the Dragon’s Fang dagger and be unto a god of darkness.
He turned and stepped into his chamber, where Edmund Rictor, Lenora Hawke, Rasul Kader, and one final guest waited. Rictor was stoic as ever, and Kader said he only wished to watch Katrina die. Daredin initially intended to murder him once his task was completed, but aside from his generous mood, he was amused by Kader’s apparent grudge against the woman. Maybe he would be spared—he was still debating the matter.
“My friends,” Daredin said. “The day we have long waited and strove for has at last arrived. On this night, we usher in a new age of darkness. Tonight, we shall tear down the Seraphim Towers and be the first of our kind to enter the Dark Lands in an age. There, we shall build our kingdom and lay the foundation for what will be our glorious empire.”
He would say more, but he held himself in check. After all, he’d be giving the same speech just before he cut out Katrina Lamont’s heart. Rictor bowed, and Kader held up the glass of wine he was drinking in cheers.
Lenora, however, could only offer a token smile and nod. She had sensed her brother’s death, and her grief and anger were still near.
“Dear Lenora,” Daredin continued. “Don’t think your brother will be forgotten, or his sacrifice in vain.”
“I saw the little bitch that did it,” she said, trying to contain her fury. “We were linked, and I saw it through his eyes. I want her found. I want her screaming.”
“We will. And she shall. After tonight, I assure you, there will be nowhere this interfering girl will be able to hide. Vengeance will be yours, sister, you have my word.”
Lenora managed a slight smile and bowed.
“The time draws near,” Daredin said, checking his pocket watch. “Lenora, join the others and make the final preparations. Rictor, bring our guest of honor to the altar. Tonight, all our destinies shall be fulfilled.”
Rictor and Lenora bowed and left the chamber. As Kader gulped his drink, Daredin took another moment to admire the Dragon’s Fang dagger.
Such a small, seemingly insignificant thing, and yet it possessed the power to create a god. He sensed the power in it and wondered how long it lay hidden in some forgotten tomb, gathered dust in some historian’s basement, and sat unnoticed in some museum—through who knew how many Devil’s Moons—with no one realizing what it was capable of. How much longer it could very well have remained there, through however many more Devil’s Moons, because no one knew of the obscure, near forgotten prophecy behind it.
It was an amusing thought. One that only reinforced his belief destiny was at hand. The Dragon’s Fang sat unused though countless past Devil’s Moons, waiting for this one. This one night, when he would claim it and fulfill its purpose.
Thinking of this, he at last turned to the man sitting in the far corner. The man that first told him of the prophecy and arranged his meeting with Rasul Kader.
“And of course,” said Daredin, “far be it for me to not acknowledge you, my friend. Without you, none of this would be possible.”
Vicar Frost smiled. “No. It wouldn’t.”
Part V
Denial
25
The Blind Cliffs curved along the coast with numerous spires of rock jutting out of the water like a series of platforms. If looked at from above, it might resemble a broken plate someone pounded their fist on.
Lily didn’t expect it to be easy, but she thought the best means of approaching the bridge without being spotted would be to utilize the spires. The cliffs were a steep drop—about two hundred feet to the ocean—but the rock walls were not smooth. Parts stuck in and out with dozens of crevices and crannies all over. With her claws and demon agility, Lily could manage the climb.
She leapt from spire to spire, about fifty feet below, and made her way to the bridge. A few times she jumped to the side of one of the platforms, only to find the rock not secure. Stones and pebbles rained down, and she would scramble behind the spire in case a guard happened to hear. Fortunately, the waves below crashed loudly, and wind gusts howled and whistled through the cliffs—drowning out any sounds she made.
The bridge was finally overhead, and she scrambled up the cliff. If someone had seen her, she would’ve resembled a human spider skit
tering up the side of a wall. The bottom of the bridge was unrefined, like the sides of the cliff. Maintaining a grip wouldn’t be a problem, she could see. The problem was holding up her weight as she climbed across.
At least with the cliffs and spires, she could rest her weight in a crevice or on a jutting rock. Inching her way across the underside of the bridge, Lily had to dig her claws deep into the rock and awkwardly prop her feet on any nook or cranny she could manage. More than once, her footing slipped, and her heart would do a lunge as she thought she was going to fall to the ocean two hundred feet below.
Glancing over her shoulder—an idea she immediately regretted—she considered whether she would survive such a fall. I think I would, she thought, though not convincingly. I think.
Halfway across, Lily’s muscles burned, feeling like acid was pumping through her veins. Her hands were raw and ragged—her claws looking like broken glass. The cool wind did little to comfort her. In fact, every so often, the wind would develop into a strong gust, and she would hug the underside of the bridge for dear life.
Thankfully, she reached the other side. She let go of the bridge, securing herself in a small crevice, and breathed a sigh of relief. She had to crouch into a ball just to fit into the small cranny, which ordinarily wouldn’t be comfortable at all, but at least it wasn’t clinging to the underside of the bridge. Her hands felt numb and looked like she stuck them in a thresher. Nicks and cuts were spread out all over her body from hugging the harsh rock.
She looked up to the sky and saw the moon drawing ever closer to above the tower. She guessed she’d spent the last hour climbing around on the cliffs and bridge. From the look of the moon, and judging from the drumming and chanting she could hear even from where she was, she didn’t have much time left.
Wiping her head with her forearm, since her hands were a mess, she caught her breath and prepared for the next move. Directly above was the entrance to the tower—but heavily guarded. She looked below and saw some barred windows.