by Phil Stern
Remaining were she was, Caylee suddenly felt almost foolish, her face beginning to flush. Taking a deep breath, the black-clad operative turned and strode towards the single exit. Without further hesitation she nearly yanked the handle from the heavy iron door, heaving it open and striding out into the harsh Donlon dawn.
*****
With long, impetuous strides, Lord Jarton strode down the path beside the brackish, muddy river. Behind him, half-skipping along to keep up, were a half-dozen bobbies. Though the men were dirty and tired after a long night of breaking down doors and rousting people from their sleep, their Lord Police Commissioner was as fresh and intent as always.
Indeed, the frantic search for the blonde, fire-breathing dander had turned up nothing. By now, nearly all of the squalid places frequented by the city’s swelling underclass had been swept, and then swept again. They’d raided bars, abandoned buildings, brothels, drug dens, flop houses, and more, but so far had come up empty.
Now, as dawn was fully breaking, Lord Jarton was personally leading them to an old industrial complex on the northern rim of the city. Another unit was meeting their group on-site, giving them a dozen constables to methodically comb through the area.
Grumbling to themselves, the men were wondering just how long this wild goose chase was going to continue. This cheeky dander might have somehow slipped back into a lake. Perhaps she jumped on a departing ship, or simply fled into the surrounding countryside.
“Or maybe she just fell down a flipping toilet and went back where she came from,” one man quietly groused. “But she ain’t here no more, that’s for certain.”
“Try telling that to his lordship,” another officer murmured back. “I’m sure he’ll value your opinion on the subject.”
Sighing, the first constable looked at the back of Lord Jarton’s impeccable black coat and top hat, fashionable boots powerfully pounding the pavement some distance ahead. Fat chance of that, the man privately thought, remembering how Jarton had burned out Updike’s throat by the lake in Nellon Park.
Unknown to his men, the lord demon impossibly heard every nuance of the exchange some distance behind him. Eyes burning a contented silver, he merely accelerated the pace even more, intently eyeing a cluster of three abandoned factories off to the right.
*****
Caylee stalked into the alleyway just outside the door, still feeling slightly flustered. Only now, once fully exposed, did she belatedly realize what a perfect place this would be for an ambush.
Three stories high, the thirty-foot gap between individual factories created narrow alleys with only two exits, both some distance away. A few large trash containers partially blocked these potential escape routes. Up above, a half-deployed fire escape laconically hung down from the opposite roof. Scraps of metal and other refuse laid all about.
Fortunately, the only other being in sight was an odd looking kangaroo type-creature. Busily burrowing in some no-doubt succulent trash, the wide-eyed, furry thing glanced up in shock. Despite Caylee’s friendly mental calls, it promptly bounded off down the narrow lane, careening around the far corner out of sight.
Almost instantly, however, the scavenger let out a screech of fright. Immediately barreling back into view, it raced back towards Caylee herself at double speed, frantically diving into a hole in the factory foundation. With a final snarl emanating out into the Donlon air, the terrified animal was then utterly silent.
Standing very still, she stared first at the hole, then up at the far off alley’s terminus. Something unexpected had terrified the little beast, so much so that it had chosen to charge at her instead of whatever else was out there. And that could only mean…
First one constable popped into view, then another. Soon six of the blue-clad, helmeted men had rounded the corner, tiredly ambling in her direction. Truncheons languidly held by their sides, the men were chatting easily among themselves. From the muck dotting their pants and sleeves, it was obvious they’d been out searching for some time.
Instinctively, Caylee covered herself in an invisibility spell. The magic itself was a bit rough, but luckily took hold before the men noticed anything amiss. Promptly striding off in the opposite direction, she lengthened her pace so as to easily reach the far exit before the bobbies even got close.
But within a dozen steps the enchantress rocked to a halt. Another group of men had entered the alley from the other end, advancing on her position. Through sheer dumb luck she’d been caught in a pincer movement, both ends of the alley now blocked.
However, this second contingent was led by a tall man in fine clothes and a top hat. Wearing rich red gloves, he held a long cane in one hand adorned by a miniature gargoyle. And unlike the two groups of bobbies, all of whom seemed exhausted and by now somewhat indifferent, the Lord led his group with an intense vigor, eyes suffused with a tinge of pure silver.
So this was a demon. Though sorely tempted, Caylee didn’t dare extend her magical sensitivity. Right now surprise and stealth were her only advantage. Inadvertently revealing her own presence, even while possibly discovering something useful about the demon’s abilities, would be a grave error.
Instead, she carefully studied the approaching Donlon Lord from behind the invisibility spell, doing her best to ignore the mere mortals gradually closing in from the opposite direction. Her own breathing still calm and steady, the sorceress felt vast magical reserves building up within the earth stone at her waist.
While still some twenty feet away, the Lord came to a sudden halt, the men behind him following suit. The other patrol also paused, leaving Caylee roughly midway between them.
“You men, go back out and scour the riverbank,” the Lord commanded, motioning with his cane back from whence the first group had come. “We’ll take the buildings here.”
Frowning, Caylee peered at the gargoyle on top of the cane. Though hard to tell through the mild haze of her spell, she could swear the silver ornament blinked.
“Yes, Lord Jarton,” mumbled some tired male voices behind her. From the sound of their shuffling feet, it sounded as if they had indeed turned about and were moving off.
The man they called Jarton spun about to the men at his rear, impatiently motioning to the side doors in both buildings. Clearly afraid of his wrath, the helmeted officers promptly began entering both abandoned factories.
Could she really be this lucky? Of course, one of Peck’s crew was sure to tell the police that she’d just been there, perhaps even volunteering the information right away. But at this point that wouldn’t matter much. The invisibility spell should last at least for another menlar, after which all she’d need was a spare moment alone to escape over the top of the buildings…
Oddly, Jarton himself was the last man left nearby in the alley, left hand on the door as he prepared to pass into the building now to Caylee’s left. With a deceptive casualness, even while looking away from her, into the doorway, the demon’s right arm flicked behind his own back. Instantly, the hideous gargoyle leapt off the top of the cane, bolting directly at her.
Expanding into ten times it’s inert size, the raging, snarling apparition let out a piercing scream. Soulless, pit black eyes didn’t blink as the gargoyle sailed through the air right at her, deploying both wings and front claws mid-flight. Desperately pumping pure earth fire throughout her own body, Caylee barely formed a half-assed magical shield in the nick of time.
Fortunately, it was enough. Hitting it’s target at chest level, the loathsome beast instantly tried to rip into Caylee’s neck. Instead, it’s dirty beak clanged into the glowing green shield, the gargoyle’s face bathed in scorching earth fire. Screaming in rage, stubby wings flapping all about, it then clamped burning silver hands on her shielded shoulders, rocking back with it’s lower body for a talon strike into her black-clad stomach.
The shield should be enough to ward off this blow as well, but Caylee wasn’t taking any chances. Placing both hands on the back of the hairless, bony head, the sorceress pulled down
hard while bringing up a right leg. Her knee crashed into the beast’s gruesomely ugly face in a most satisfactory manner.
The resulting blow blasted the evil creature up and away from her. Sailing backwards through the air, wings and claws now helplessly fluttering about, it landed at Jarton’s feet in a somewhat incoherent silver mass. Woozily shaking it’s sunken, frightful head, the seething creature stared at her in almost comic disbelief.
With a flick of her pinkie, the enchantress dispelled the last lingering wisps of invisibility spell. Eyes pulsing a bright green, fists confidently raised for more combat, Caylee stepped forward into full visibility.
“You witch!” Jarton snarled, eyes nearly exploding in silver fire. “And ready for a fight, I see. All the better.” The demon began pulling off a red glove, one finger at a time.“It’s been some time since I’ve killed one of your kind.”
“Lord Jarton, is it?” Mockingly emphasizing the title, Caylee smiled. “Regards from the Coven. The Council will be quite interested to know of your new status here in Donlon.”
“They won’t find out from you, witch!” Calmly studying her, Jarton now pulled off his other glove, tucking both in an inside jacket pocket. “Not with your pretty blonde head mounted on my wall.”
The smart move here, of course, would be to just turn and escape on ground level, or better yet make her way up to the roof. Caylee strongly suspected that in a contest of mobility and speed, she could leave Jarton in the dust.
But now that she was facing a demon in the flesh, they didn’t seem all that tough. Indeed, she sensed no magical power emanating from the Donlon Lord, just a somewhat roiling, sour energy. Though he certainly looked the part of a despotic ruler, with fine clothes, glowing silver eyes and now red, flame-tinged hands, Caylee wondered if they were actually more bombast than strength.
And really, it would be just like those old crones back in Haven to build these “demons” up into fearsome opponents just to scare young girls on a summer afternoon. Frankly, she was tired of all that.
Partially sitting up, the fast-recovering gargoyle let out a half-hearted snarl. Behind her, she could hear the just-dismissed bobbies running back up the alley. That escape route, at least, was now blocked off.
“You seem to need plenty of friends to make that happen,” she confidently called out, eyes briefly flicking down at the gargoyle. “I guess you’ve gotten soft over the years.”
“Is that a challenge, little girl?” Briskly shedding the overcoat, Jarton now stood in expensive pants, shirt, and stylish vest. Swinging his arms back and forth, like a fighter just before a bout, he moved into the center of the alley. “It will be just you and me. No one else will interfere.”
“Not even fuck face there?”
“Not even him.” Pointedly rolling up both sleeves, Jarton peremptorily kicked at the gargoyle. With a whine of frustration, it jumped back atop the cane, sinking again into a solid silver ornament. The demon then tossed hat and cane aside to harmlessly land against the base of the wall.
“And the bobbies?” Behind her, Caylee could feel them all staring uncertainly at her back, guns drawn. “We wouldn’t want them to get hurt, after all.”
“Get back, all of you!” Breathing hard, Jarton whisked a flaming hand through the air. “Watch and learn how to deal with these whores.”
The men gratefully backed away, obviously content just to watch. The few bobbies who’d re-entered the alley from the factories retreated behind their lord as well. For the moment, at least, this would be just between the two of them. Kicking aside some trash while stretching her neck from side to side, Caylee confidently prepared for combat.
By now the tall lord had worked himself into quite a state, his entire body beginning to glow an ugly, molten red. Indeed, the demon’s power signature had ramped up as well, now heating the walls to either side. Taking a deep breath, Caylee began wondering if this might be a mistake.
His own fists now raised boxer-style, Jarton advanced to the attack, launching a fearsome roundhouse right at her head.
Ducking underneath his arm, Caylee pounded the outside of his left knee with a magically-enhanced blow. Rolling off to safety, she then confidently stood and turned about. Since the strike would easily shatter Jarton’s leg, this fight should already be over.
Instead, she found Jarton’s hand around her throat. Not even slightly disabled, he’d nimbly closed the gap to renew the attack. Now staring into his pulsing silver eyes, mere feet away, Caylee felt her neck being uncomfortably constricted. This should be impossible, since her magical shield was still in place.
Lifting her several inches off the ground, Jarton’s right fist pounded into her stomach. Her shield now entirely shattered, Caylee was sent crashing back into a trash bin. Unprotected, a mild explosion came from the back of her head where it struck the heavy metal container, accompanied by a sharp pain in the left elbow. Gracelessly flopping down to the dirty ground, a burning sensation flared all over her mid-section.
Panicking, the sorceress’ left hand clamped down on her earth stone, deliberately causing it to surge out of control. The resulting eruption sent the trash bin tumbling off into the closer group of police bystanders, the nearby walls buckling and ripping inward.
But of paramount importance, an advancing Jarton was blown back against the narrow edge of the half-open, heavy metal door of the first factory. Hitting it horizontally, his body parallel to the ground, there was an ugly crack of a backbone breaking.
And while that sounded promising, Caylee was no longer under any illusions. These demons were even tougher than advertised. Possessing brute strength in abundance, actually grappling with them was suicide. Nimbleness and speed was the only way to win, which was impossible to achieve in this confined area.
Indeed, Jarton was already back up on all fours, angrily shaking his patrician head. And while a section of backbone was definitely poking up at an odd angle, the demon seemed only mildly put out. Even as she watched, the lord irritably shifted his back up, down, and to either side, somehow healing the bone before her eyes.
Obviously, it wouldn’t be long before he was back in action. If she was ever going to make her exit, now would be the time.
Jumping up, Caylee launched herself atop the still shaking trash bin. As the bobbies gaped, she then magically leaped skyward once more, grabbing the lowest handrail on the half-deployed fire escape. Even as the stunned officers began haphazardly firing with their bulky handguns, the sorceress swung back and forth a few times, then gracefully catapulted up and over onto the roof.
As soon as her booted feet landed, the reeling enchantress felt blood running down into a sleek black boot. One of the bobbies had clipped her thigh, resulting in a nasty flesh wound. Grimacing as the pain now fully hit her brain, Caylee yanked the partially-shredded cloth away, then firmly clamped a hand over her ripped skin. A rough pulse of earth fire temporarily stemmed the bleeding.
Yet Caylee knew this was just a temporary reprieve. Head and elbow still throbbing, she urgently looked around for a weapon, something strong enough to channel magical energy. Stumbling forward, towards the center of the roof, the sorceress spied several wooden rain barrels off to one side. Other odds and ends, along with more trash, were scattered about. At first blush, though, nothing useful for what she had in mind.
An ugly thud came from the edge of the roof over which she’d recently catapulted. Hesitantly spinning about, she watched as Jarton easily hopped up to join her on top of the flat building. Quickly striding forward, haughty, silver gaze locked on the Coven witch, the demon’s raised hands were openly flaming.
In some ways it was actually an incredible sight, the powerful demon against the backdrop of a Victorian city. The sky was bright and blue, the placid river slowly winding it’s way off to one side down below. Under less desperate circumstances, she might have even paused to admire the raw, deviant potency of it all.
One thing she most definitely did appreciate, however, was Jarton’s redu
ced condition. Moving stiffly, left leg dragging a bit, his hastily-repaired spine was clearly proving to be an impediment. There was also a nasty earth fire scorch on one cheek. So while incredibly rugged, these demons weren’t indestructible.
However, she didn’t dare let Jarton close with her again for close combat. Instead, Caylee magically flung a full rain barrel into the approaching lord. The wooden container exploded upon impact, swamping him with it’s oily contents. Knocking Jarton flat onto his back, steam instantly burst out from all over his body.
Twice more the demon struggled up to continue his advance, only to be pummeled with more massive rain barrels. This triple dousing effectively dampened his energy output, though Caylee realized this diminution was only temporary.
Still, it gave her some time and space to work with. Turning about, Caylee raced across the roof, effortlessly leaping up and over onto yet a third factory on the other side. The hard landing set her leg to bleeding once more, but she didn’t have time to worry about that now. Full blown desperation now setting in, the sorceress scanned this new, three-story high platform for something useful.
There! Over by a raised doorway lay a slightly bent iron rod, about three feet in length. Oddly enough, given the culture and technology, she had yet to see an actual steel sword here in Donlon. Still, under the circumstances…
Magically grabbing the impromptu weapon, the sorceress then caused it to fly over into her waiting hand. A few practice swings found it to be a pleasing weight and heft. And while the mushy iron wouldn’t hold up very long under magical duress, it didn’t need to. Pumping both her body and the now-shrieking metal full of glowing earth fire, Caylee confidently waited for Jarton to arrive.
Moments later, the lumbering demon awkwardly landed on the same rooftop, the harsh impact making the entire building shake. Still soggy and now thoroughly enraged, his silver eyes immediately locked on her.