by L. L. McNeil
‘We best get to work, then,’ Claes said, one hand on Damon’s shoulder as he shoved the young Elemental forward. ‘Not much here we can use. It’ll be tricky.’
Damon staggered forward under Claes’s firm push. He almost toppled over but caught himself at the last moment. ‘Just grass and weeds here. What do we do?’
Claes’s moustaches twitched again as he put both hands on his hips and glanced around. ‘We’ll have to use the tree. It’ll be close enough. Roots’ll be under it, anyhow.’
Damon nodded and pulled his special pen from his pocket. Seila recognised it as the same pen Fallow had used to draw runes to seal Sekki’s Mirage. Perhaps using one’s fire Elemental fingers was not the usual way runes were done, and Claes wanted Demon to stick to approved processes.
As the two Elementals approached the tree beside the Mirage, Seila beat her wings to get higher again. She’d seen how a Mirage was sealed, and didn’t need to watch again. Not while she was supposed to be keeping an eye out for approaching demons, anyway.
Below, Ashante stepped back from them, giving Damon and Claes space to work. She raised her hands, muttered something under her breath that Seila was too far away to catch, and the air in front of her fingers grew hazy.
Seila tore her gaze away and scanned the field. The tops of the grasses waved in the breeze, but nothing came through to meet them or attack. Seila presumed the Enchantress was working on one of her many spells that would serve either as a trap to protect Damon and Claes while they worked, or would confuse any encroaching demons.
At least they knew Gorath was nowhere near, and neither were Prowlers or Marauders. Seila really didn’t want to encounter any of those before they’d sealed the Mirage. Sierra continued to swoop over the field, strafing up and down and keeping on alert for any threats.
Even with all the preparation, Seila was tense. After seeing what Sekki had been able to do with his jewellery shop, she didn’t put anything above an Elite Demon, now. They could be sat in the middle of a trap, for all she knew.
Seila gripped her Sieken Blade and kept watch, waiting for some of the demons they’d passed in the farm to either flee or grow bolder and approach. If it wasn’t the Stingers, she half-expected some other demons to turn up out of nowhere and give them trouble.
Either way, she was ready to face them.
17
Seila scanned the horizon with narrowed eyes.
The constant swaying of the grass could easily mask the movements of an approaching demon, but that didn’t worry her too much. She always heard them before she saw them, and right now, she couldn’t hear any demons close by.
She closed her eyes, hovering in mid-air, but there were no tell-tale whispers of a hunting demon or one frightened by the presence of the Kouzlo. She could hear Damon and Claes working, their pens scratching runes into not just the tree, but the very fabric of the dimension as the spell to seal the Mirage began to form.
It was a strangely comforting sound, one that Seila had never heard before discovering Fallow Caramond, but now enjoyed. It meant fewer demons would be able to enter their dimension, and therefore less chance of another Elite—or worse—a new Demon King or Queen. If one of those were to rise, it would spell their world’s doom, and she’d never get her soul back.
And, of course, sealing this particular Mirage meant they’d halve Gorath’s power, which in turn would give her the chance to slay him. Just the thought of taking down an Elite Demon like Gorath was enough to excite her. Stealing the kill from Tress was simply the icing on the cake.
She wondered whether Gorath would be susceptible to her sword once his Mirage had been sealed. She hoped as much, otherwise it really would be Tress’s kill alone.
Seila had a very clear memory of the demon who’d taken her soul. But he had then given it to a group of Lesser Demons, so she had no way of knowing where it had ended up. What was to say it hadn’t been shredded into a thousand pieces and she’d be left an empty shell, doomed to walk the earth and slay demons forever to stay alive, but without living?
That was the problem.
She supposed if she was ever able to find the demon who’d taken her soul, she could demand an answer as to where it was now. If it even knew, of course. Lesser Demons—well, all demons, really—were inherently selfish, driven by their own desires to feed and kill, with little energy given to foreplanning.
Even if she found the demon, and even if it told her where her soul was—or the demons who had taken it—there was no way of knowing whether that was still the case. She might kill every demon in this world and still never find it.
Now that she had the knowledge of Mirages, what was to stop the demon with her soul crossing through one and into some other dimension? And how many dimensions were there, anyway? Fallow had insinuated there were hundreds, possibly thousands of them. More than she could ever hope to check in her lifetime.
She had to hope the demon who had her soul was still alive. Still on Earth.
And that she could track it down.
Fallow had promised to help her find her soul. Once Gorath had been dealt with, and so long as Fallow’s magic wasn’t weakened again, there was no reason why the Enchantress couldn’t keep her end of the bargain. After all, Seila had killed hundreds of demons for her, per their arrangement.
Claes was the Master Runesmith of Fallow’s Kouzlo. But Seila wasn’t sure just how long it would take him to seal the Mirage—Fallow had certainly taken a while, but she was no runeworker.
Seila turned 180 degrees in the air, just to make sure she wasn’t missing anything behind them, her eyes glancing over Damon and Claes as they worked. Their bodies hid their runework, so Seila didn’t spend any more time trying to see what they were doing, although she could see the blue tattoos on Claes’s arms glowing brightly in the dark.
She was about to spin back around again when the tell-tale hiss of a demon’s voice echoed in her mind.
‘Feed.’
‘Knew it was too good to be true.’ She sighed and tried to work out where the demon was coming from. All around them was dark, the wind the only other noise alongside the demon’s voice. She narrowed her eyes and waited for movement.
But there was none.
‘Seila! Something’s coming!’ Ashante whispered as loudly as she dared.
Seila didn’t need the Enchantress to tell her that. But she couldn’t tell where the demon was coming from. She span around again, urgently looking. The demon’s voice had grown louder, more excited. It was close, wherever it was. Seila cursed the poor light. She’d thought they’d had the advantage, this time. They’d scouted the area, reached the Mirage unhindered, and Ashante had even had time to set up her magic.
Now it was all falling apart, and Seila didn’t know why or from where.
A demon’s roar pulled her attention back. This wasn’t the demon’s voice echoing in her mind, as before. This was a demon in full view making its challenge to them. She turned back to face Damon and Claes, and to her horror, saw a Prowler lumber through the Mirage, jaws open and fangs bared.
Although it was very clearly a Prowler, this one had reddish-skin that seemed to burn gold when the moonlight caught it. It had a few spines jutting from the tops of its shoulders, marking it as an older demon, and, like all other Prowlers, it didn’t have eyes.
Seila swallowed. The Prowler hadn’t come from the demon world. It had come from Tress’s world. The same as Gorath. She was terrified that, like Gorath, her Sieken Blade would be ineffective against it. If that was the case, they were done for.
She didn’t hesitate. Damon and Claes needed to be protected at all costs. She dived towards the Prowler, screaming as she flew, trying to attract its attention and keep it on her, instead of the Elementals.
Sword brandished, she struck at the Prowler’s neck. The force of her blow pushed the massive demon back, but it dug its claws into the earth and gouged a deep valley with them. It shredded the grass underfoot, strands of it floating away on the
breeze.
When Seila flapped her wings to get clear of the inevitable counter-strike, she was pleased that her blade was covered with the demon’s thick, sticky blood. There was far less of it than she’d expected from a blow like that—clearly demons from Tress’s world were made of tougher stuff than regular demons—but it wasn’t invincible, as Gorath had been.
That was enough for Seila.
The Prowler darted forward, reaching out with a forelimb to claw at Seila. But she dodged, flying backwards and keeping out of range of the demon’s massive talons. She swooped around to the side, trying to draw it further away from the Mirage—and Claes and Damon.
She smiled when she saw the Prowler come after her, snarling all the while. She easily avoided its clumsy swipes, and when it stumbled into the field, it had to raise its head high above the tall grass to avoid the strands masking its sense of hearing and smell.
An ambush predator the Prowler might have been, but it was at quite the disadvantage on this terrain. That, and Seila had no idea what magic Ashante had created while they’d been waiting. There was no reason to suggest that she hadn’t put together some kind of spell that confused the Prowler or completely took away its sense of smell.
Distraction and disorientation didn’t work for her—Seila was all about the kill—but it worked well enough against one powerful demon and gave her an advantage.
Seila dived again and again, slashing with her sword and drawing more and more blood with every strike. The Prowler always seemed to hear her approach at the last minute, and would either crouch, dart, or otherwise try to avoid her blade. She was too fast most of the time, but the Prowler was used to a dark world, and was able to keep itself from receiving a mortal wound, much to Seila’s annoyance.
She wiped her nose with her free hand, glanced back to Damon and Claes. But she had no way of knowing just when they would be done. And despite her sword being powerful enough to pierce the Prowler’s hide, she hadn’t been able to bring it down. Clearly, it was of a different class to the regular Prowlers, and Seila already struggled against those.
She darted ahead again, holding her sword high in an attempt to bring it down on the Prowler’s neck with both hands and cut its head clean off. The demon snarled in defiance, its flesh wounds no doubt more a source of irritation than anything truly life-threatening, and it raised itself onto its rear legs to meet her attack.
The demon was fast. Faster than she’d expected or gave it credit for.
Its front claws raked out, snaking past her sword and slashing across her chest, opening the recently healed wound from the Dragora. Seila plunged from the air at the sudden pain. Her own blood coated her blade as it dripped down her arms, and she collapsed in a heap barely three paces from the Prowler.
Seila raised her sword before she’d even staggered back to her feet, bracing herself against the inevitable and immediate strike. Her instincts were perfect. Her blade blocked the demon’s next attack and saved her from its claws.
The weight of the demon pressed against her, forcing her back down to the ground.
A sudden flash of red light washed over Seila’s vision, momentarily blinding her.
Heat followed a few seconds later.
When she squinted one eye open, the demon was several steps further back, flames licking at its hide. Seila whipped her head around and saw Claes with one arm outstretched, his eyes narrowed and focused on the demon.
The Prowler’s snarl demanded her attention again, and she pushed herself up to her feet to face it. Every breath stung, and her legs trembled where she stood, but she kept herself upright.
Yes, Tress’s axes would be quite handy right about now.
Seila wiped the blood off her chest with her forearm, but only managed to smear it rather than clear it. ‘Prowlers. Why is it always Prowlers?’ She levelled her sword at the demon. It was still busy dealing with Claes’s fire, which gave her a little room to breathe. ‘You going to be much longer?’ Seila called over her shoulder.
‘A few more minutes!’ Damon yelled back. She could hear his thin voice pushed through gritted teeth, and was somehow pleased that he was struggling as much as she was.
Her eyes darted to the side, looking for Ashante, but she couldn’t spot the Enchantress in the tall grass. The darkness was too thick, and its contrast had deepened with the flash of Claes’s fire.
‘Kill.’
Seila looked back at the Prowler, her lip curling at the demon’s voice. Slaying it would give her a massive boost to her strength. But right now, she wasn’t sure she could even fend it off while the two Elementals worked on the sealing runes.
She clutched her sword and drew in a deep, steadying breath.
Before she could act, the flames licking at the Prowler’s feet rose again. They swirled as they grew and encircled the creature.
Seila narrowed her eyes, watching as Claes manipulated the flames into different shapes. They laced across one another, trapping the Prowler in a cage of fire.
‘No need to risk yourself,’ Claes called. His fingers twisted as he controlled the fire, tightening the coils around the demon and ensuring it couldn’t move. ‘Damon is nearly done.’
Seila wasn’t sure whether to be impressed or annoyed. He cared for her life and had protected that. And yet he also clearly didn’t trust her or have enough confidence in her that she could defeat the new demon.
Although, while it couldn’t move, it couldn’t attack, either.
It was a sitting duck.
Seila raised her sword and hurled herself at the demon. She brought the blade down hard through Claes’s flames and into the Prowler’s hide.
The rush of power from the demon and into her almost sent her staggering. Her breath caught, her chest tightened, and vision brightened. Her knees trembled with the sudden burst of energy—the most she’d absorbed since taking on Sekki. Life flowed through her. She could feel every breath, every beat of her heart. Every nerve tingled, and goosebumps rose along her arms and legs.
She glowed with power.
By the time the smoke from Claes’s fire had blown away, they were done. The Mirage faded until barely a haze remained, and then it was gone.
Seila couldn’t believe how easy it had been.
Claes slapped Damon approvingly on the back. ‘You did well. Held your nerve. Runework is getting strong.’
Seila wandered over to them and peered down at the tree where Claes pointed.
‘Your lines are clean. Even. It is like I told you—a weak seal perfectly crafted is better than a strong seal that’s poorly crafted. Precision is of absolute importance.’
Damon beamed under Claes’s praise.
‘Congratulations,’ Ashante said.
‘Well, that’s the second Mirage I’ve sealed. And both were for Elite Demons, too!’ Damon rolled his shoulders and ran a hand through his hair.
‘Don’t get so big for your boots. You still have much to learn,’ Claes admonished. ‘But you did well.’
There was only one thing Seila was interested in. ‘Is Gorath weakened, now?’
Ashante pulled out a small, glass bottle from the folds of her coat. Inside was the drying demon blood and remains of the broken tooth she’d used to track down the Mirage’s location in the first place. ‘Gorath’s power is not as strong, not as vibrant as before,’ she said. She clasped the bottle between both hands, light emanating from her fingertips. ‘It’s a significant blow.’
‘Textbook Kouzlo process,’ Claes said, with an approving nod. ‘Seal the Mirage to hit the Elite where it hurts. Now, we take him on like anything else.’
Seila couldn’t fault that logic. And she could also see the benefit of the Kouzlo team. Without Ashante, they wouldn’t have the ability to track down demons—or their Mirages—half as efficiently. And without runesmiths and Elementals, they wouldn’t have been able to seal the Mirage.
Now, it would be down to her to finish the demon once and for all.
And considering she’d
taken down the Prowler with little trouble—once Claes pinned it in place for her—she was actually looking forward to taking on Gorath a second time.
‘And no-one hurt, which is even better,’ Damon added. ‘Fallow’s gonna be chuffed.’
‘Indeed. Let’s get back to her. Gorath will still be a challenge,’ Ashante said. ‘But we can afford to wait until Lady Tress has recovered, now.’
Seila’s good spirits dropped. After all that, they still wanted to wait? Still wanted Tress to take him on? ‘I’ll be able to deal with Gorath. I cut down that Prowler like it was nothing!’
‘Just in case. We need to build on our advantage,’ Ashante replied. ‘Don’t want to make the same mistake twice.’
‘The same mistake?’ Seila was incredulous. ‘Tress charged off to fight him while he was at full strength. She was alone. She wasn’t ready. We’ve dealt Gorath a critical blow—I can finish him off. I know I can!’
‘That’s Fallow’s decision,’ Ashante said.
Seila scowled. Why was she being blocked at every turn? She looked at Damon, almost hoped for back up.
The Elemental caught her look and flushed. ‘Well, erm, Seila is very good at taking out demons…’
‘Absolutely. No-one doubts that,’ Claes said. ‘But with Gorath, we take no chances. We take him on, altogether, at full strength. After all the damage done, we will be under much scrutiny.’
Seila let out a breath slowly through her nose. She didn’t want to have a childish tantrum like Tress had. ‘I think we should act now. While we have the element of surprise. You don’t want Gorath or his demons to kill more people while we wait for Tress to recover?’
‘Like it or not, we need her. And we need Tej,’ Claes said. His voice had lost its warmth. ‘We must protect not just our territory, but ourselves. Say you take him on, find yourself outmatched. Then what?’
Seila shrugged. It was a risk she always took when she hunted.
Claes took her meaning differently. ‘Exactly. We lose you. What a waste that would be. Or we wait until the best moment to strike and can be sure to take him down once and for all.’