Demon Scroll

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Demon Scroll Page 22

by Tim Niederriter


  The dagger spliced Niu’s side. She clutched the wound, swayed, and then sank to her knees. The wound didn't look deep from where Melissa dueled with Saben. Who knew what poison could coat the little blade. I have to get to Niu. I have to help her. Even so, she knew she possessed only basic knowledge of poison beyond what she’d read in books on history and warfare.

  Saben shook his head.

  “You’re distracted. You don't have a chance.

  The remaining knights gathered around the high table, forcing the woman with the two swords back a few paces from the governor. Ariel Hekatze, Lady Nasibron’s sword servant, stood beside the governor, the long sword of the Nasiborn family in both hands. Lady Nasibron wove magic on the other side. Lord Tanlos, shouted an order to his knights to form a defensive wall with their bodies and armor. Some of them were clad heavily thanks to their strength sprites easing the armor’s weight.

  Above them, rain pattered across the domed ceiling, a crystalline structure that went all the way up the top two floors of the building above them. Melissa began to tire against Saben. The palace could easily be a trap as much as blessed salvation for her. The governor’s enemies proved fierce, nearly overwhelming.

  At least I have magic to wield.

  She retreated from Saben. The man in the ugly mask prowled toward the other side of the wall of knights. Some of those knights who had fallen reached toward their Lord. All eyes fell upon the governor. Where are the demon guards, the powers of Mother Mercy?

  Governor Tandace Lokoth spoke coldly.

  “Repel these assassins. They fight the will of mercy. Pathetic creatures such as them will never topple the throne on high.”

  Melissa gasped for breath. She’d run out of space to retreat. The masked man advanced on the wall of knights with his cleaver dripping red. He appeared willing to fight all of them at once. The mage guard littered the floor, groaning, or cowered in the corners. All their trained as warriors and they weren't yet prepared for such an onslaught. The kights protecting the governor couldn’t hold out forever.

  Saben sliced at Melissa again. She barely avoided the blade. It sliced through her tunic as it passed her chest.

  “You're getting slower.”

  Melissa grunted.

  She plucked another discarded knife from the floor. She turned the new knife upside down, gripping the blade. She sent what electricity she could muster from her sprites into the silverware. Sprites agitated the metal in her grip. Melissa hurled the knife at Saben. He blocked, channeling the current into his sword. In the process he missed the second knife Meliss hurled from her other hand.

  Melissa's table knife, sliced across Saben’s shoulder. The jolt of electricity made him go rigid for a moment.

  She barreled into him, delivering a flying kick to the flat of his immobile blade. She drove him back a step, before tumbling to the floor. He stayed upright but frozen, electricity shooting through his upper body.

  He shook himself. Electrical currents coursed through his arms and shoulders up his neck to his head. Melissa crawled away, panting with exhaustion, but still able to maintain her consciousness thanks to her iron bane. She had invested a whole sprite in each hurled knife. Her sprite’s electricity jagged into the wound where the knife stuck in Saben’s chest. The other sprite she’d detached with the first throw hovered behind her foe.

  Melissa’s sprite drifted from the knife Saben had deflected. She positioned herself between sparking sprite and Saben. The sprite touched his back. He shook as all of the electricity she’d built in the sprite leapt into him. Saben quivered and fell to his knees.

  The man in the mask glanced over his shoulder at Saben.

  “Damn it,” he said. “I was right to bring another along.” He started hacking at knights around the governor.

  The knights fought back with what weapons they had, but they stood little chance against the monster with his cleaver.

  The man in the mask and the woman with two blades flew at the wall of knights.

  The order Lord Tanlos commanded was tenacious, but despite her best efforts, they were losing.

  Saben

  He stared at Melissa, his eyes glazed with pain. He could not speak for even his vocal cords ran with the energy discharge. Saben staggered, knees locking as he stood up. He did not know how long he would last against another mage. Heen had run away, pursued by the sailor. Folt and Uigara pressed their attack against knight. They’re taking too long.

  He needed to get to the dungeon. Amid the jolts and flickers of electricity before eyes, he thought of Jaswei. He imagined her sprites and banes. He listened through his pain for her song, and at last, he heard it.

  He could follow the faint song to the dungeon, though between him and them and her lay the presence of the demon he’d sensed before.

  The demon had not entered the hall. Saben guessed the creature must be waiting, playing guard for the dungeon. He shifted himself, recovering a little from the electricity. He lurched toward the door he and Heen had entered through.

  Melissa and the fallen mage guard man, Tal, crawled toward each other. They would help each other, but neither seemed in condition to fight Folt or Uigara. Across the room, Heen laughed out loud. The man who had chased the boy from the room flew onto the center table, smashing plates and bowls and scattered cups, knives, and forks. The man skidded to a halt, unconscious.

  Saben grimaced as he glanced at Heen. The boy approached.

  “That was fun! I hope he’s all right.”

  Saben grunted.

  “I need to go,” he said.

  Heen gave him a nod.

  “Then go, friend.”

  Saben started toward the hall leading to the dungeon, following Jaswei’s song. He dragged his sword with him. He could barely hold it upright despite years of training and wielding the weapon. His muscles bunched and loosened as electrical shocks ran through them. A flock of blackbirds flew toward him from the end of the passage. He hoped his voice was up to the task. Banes sang from the flock of birds, loud enough for even Saben to hear them.

  They were demons, every bird. The demon flock drew close. He staggered, leaning on his blade with one arm. He raised his demon-sealed palm and ordered the demon to flee with a silent will. The demon birds scattered before him. He picked up what speed he could and continued toward the dungeon, lurching into the shadows of the dingy underground.

  To the pit with the others, he thought, recalling one of the few Tancuonese curses he knew. To the end with them, if need be. He would get Jaswei out of the palace, but he would murder no one else to do so.

  The place was cursed. The city may not be the joyful spark of his revenge after all. Hope leapt into his mind, accompanied by fear. What if Jaswei was hurt? Could she already be...No.

  He charged through the dungeon, picking up pace as the electricity Melissa had used to stun him faded. Melissa's electrical sprites may have been small, but they’d more than shaken him. He must become stronger if he was going to defeat the demon that destroyed his village and the evil monster’s army as well. That faceless abomination only listened to a shout. Perhaps steel would be of no use against that creature.

  He barreled deeper into the dungeon, smashing guards to the side with the flat of his great blade. They fell with thumps and groans behind him. He rounded the corner and spotted Jaswei in her cell.

  She looked up at him, smiled tiredly. She sat with her legs folded as if meditating, waiting as if for him this whole time. A small flush crept up her cheeks.

  “I can't believe you're here,” she said.

  “I can't believe you got caught.”

  She shook her head.

  “Sorry.”

  Saben peered past the rusty, grime-encrusted bars.

  “Where's your sheath?” he asked.

  “The guard had it.” She motioned to a sack fallen beside the guard on the floor nearest her cell. He pulled the sheath from the bag and passed it to Jaswei through the bars. She took the empty holder in one ha
nd, then drew the blade of sprites from it with the other. Her sword sliced through the bars with ease.

  Saben and Jaswei fled the palace, ignoring the others, as the battle continued in the feast hall.

  Melissa

  Melissa struggled to stand, found her legs too weak, and then started to pull herself along the floor. She looked back at Tal. He lay gasping for breath, and dimming in consciousness, but not in mortal danger for the moment. The battle with the masked man left him bloody and battered.

  She struggled to prop herself against one of the table legs. The room swam before her eyes. The man in the mask ignored her and focused on the knights before him. Few of them remained standing. The rest lay wounded on the floor around the high table. Lady Nasibron launched sprites and banes at the man in the mask one after another but he deflected every spell somehow. His magic chorus sounded strange and haunting. Melissa climbed onto the chair she’s been sitting beside. She still couldn’t stand.

  Across the room, Suya and Niu sat back to back, both breathing heavily. Kelt sprawled unconscious on the table.

  Everyone except for Hilos had been beaten. What happened to Hilos?

  The aging student-mage of the governor’s hand faced the man in the mask.

  “You have not won,” said Hilos.

  The man of the mask laughed.

  “Not quite.”

  Melissa struggled dragged herself toward the men, fighting with her sprites to allow her to intercept the blow she knew would fall from the cleaver already stained with blood from the knights and mages who had dared stand in the masked man's path.

  She did not know she could save him but Hilos shouldn’t have to stand alone against the beast.

  The man in the mask lowered his cleaver. He hesitated.

  Hilos smiled, the expression sorrowful in the dim light and flickers of electricity in the sky above the dome.

  “I recognized you, my boy. What have you done to yourself?”

  “You lived as a knight,” said the man in the mask. “You know nothing of my pain.”

  Hilos held up his artificial hand the fingers rigid as ever.

  “I know enough because you and I once walked together on the path.”

  The woman with two swords retreated, looking at the masked man. The governor glanced at Hilos.

  “What are you talking about?”

  “The man before you made a pact with one of the demons of the depths.”

  “How did you guess?” the masked man hissed.

  “I told you. I know you,” said Hilos.

  The man grimaced, the expression visible at the sides of his mask.

  “You think you figured me out, old man, but that won’t save you.”

  Hilos shook his head sadly.

  “You are much changed but I still know you, Folt.”

  The giant butcher froze. His hideous mask could not hide the shock he felt. As he turned, Melissa spotted a change in his defenses. His sprites and banes circled within him continuously, roiling like a stomach upset by illness.

  The magic that protected him came from a void of nothing at his center. The mysterious, huge, powerful man was empty at his core.

  “Why did you do this to yourself?” Hilos sounded pitying.

  Suya looked from the governor to the man in the mask. Her face grew pale.

  Melissa noticed the sword servant’s harried expression. She glanced at the woman with the two blades, still threatening Lady Nasibron on the other side of the center tables near Suya.

  “I don't have to tell you,” said the man called Folt.

  Suya shouted, “Folt, don't do this!”

  “I have to,” he murmured. “For my master.”

  “You must go through me first,” said Hilo. “And I don’t think you will.”

  “I must.” Folt sounded tearful. He raised the cleaver over Hilos.

  Melissa rocked in her chair, moving to stand up. She found her feet, then lurched toward Folt and Hilos, grabbing another table knife from the table. She flipped the blade to throw. The shape of the dinnerware blessed her with accuracy last time.

  With what remained of her sprite’s power, she charged the blade with her electrical sprites. Lightning flickered in the sky. Thunder covered the crackle of static her magic made.

  Folt brought the cleaver close to the old mage's face, then drew back to the swing. Melissa’s table knife struck him directly in the hand. The hand holding the cleaver shuddered. Hilos stepped backward. The cleaver plummeted from Folt’s limp fingers and thudded to the tile.

  Broken stonework and blood and bits of torn cloth littered the floor.

  Hilos returned to the governor at the high table.

  “Your handstands to protect you, my lady.” He turned toward Folt. “If you continue your attack, you will be punished.”

  Folt took an unsteady step forward. He ripped the mask from a face as ugly as his disguise, a face covered in scars and grooves.

  “No. No.” His voice echoed harshly.

  Black smoke issued from his nostrils. Billowing black flames extended from his mouth and nose. He breathed the dark flame at the governor.

  Hilos worked alongside Lady Nasibron, their hands moving in unison with each other. They parted the hungry flames and the banes retreated to Folt as the attack dissipated.

  Folt retreated through the room, roaring in fury. The woman with the blades gave up menacing Ariel and then slipped away through the side door.

  Lady Nasibron’s sword servant returned to her lady’s side. Melissa sagged against the table, losing her ability to stand once more. The sprite she’d used to charge the last knife returned to her.

  Electricity did not take much power to discharge within oneself but hurling such magic with the sprites attached to each projectile left her drained. Folt stormed through the doors toward the exit. The rest of his force had already fled.

  The room burst into cheers from the ragged warriors still standing after the battle.

  A chorus of wounded joined them, indicating their attackers moved too swiftly to finish off those they dropped. Tal raised his fist in the air.

  Their attackers disappeared as quickly as they’d appeared. Melissa dared hope they had won the fight.

  Lord Tanlos stepped forward with his few standing knights, then rushed to the doors. A few pursued Folt and his gang, chasing them from the Palace. A serpentine shadow shape circled the dome, almost like a bird with an extraordinarily long tail.

  Melissa frowned as the shape disappeared. She nearly through she imagined it. I can trust my eyes.

  The room around her grew colder, the food scattered and broken dishes scattered among smashed tables. The chaos added to a sensation of hopelessness. Melissa did not feel victorious.

  The governor descended from the high table.

  “Everyone who can go find the servants. Drive out all remaining attackers, in the name of Mother Mercy.”

  “They were after you,” said Lord Tanlos.

  The governor nodded.

  “Yes, Lord Tanlos, I fear they’re not more than determined assassins.”

  She turned to Hilos.

  “Who was that man in the mask?”

  “A young boy,” he said. “Suya and I knew him once.”

  “How well did you know him?”

  “We both knew him well but I fear that is almost all gone,” said Hilos. “Until tonight, I’d not seen him in years.”

  The unhurt knights spread out to assist in stabilizing the wounded. Fallen mages and knights outnumbered those still standing but their foes mercifully left far more wounded than dead.

  “Quickly,” said the governor, “Summon all the healers you can, Lady Nasibron. Assume your sacral form. You can reach them faster that way.”

  “Of course,” said Lady Nasibron. She muttered an incantation under her breath.

  The sound of her incantation chilled Melissa. She blinked and in that time, Lady Nasibron vanished, replaced by a hollow suit of armor filled with multicolored clouds.
The suit of armor drifted forward, headless, but for a bulbous halo.

  That is a sacra form, Melissa thought. Such a swift transformation.

  The suit of armor floated off the floor, then flew from the room and disappeared through the palace’s front entrance. The governor approached Melissa where she sat by the table near where a wounded Tal sat on the floor.

  “You served well,” said governor, “once again, you are my brave protector.”

  Lord Tanlos frowned as he followed the governor.

  “I'm worried about Elaine. What if the attackers—”

  Melissa shook her head.

  “She's not here,” she said. “She sneaked out before dinner.”

  Lord Tanlos scowled.

  “She told you?”

  “I knew I should tell you because of what happened.”

  The knight nodded, fury etched on his features.

  Melissa sagged, laying her head down on an empty portion of table. Sleep took her senses.

  Deckard

  He pursued Deel through the streets of Souct having chased him to the city. Drizzling clouds hung overhead, but the full moon remained visible through gaps in their billowing layers. A ragged line of shifting storms moved over the bay.

  Deckard kept above Deel, but the man proved even faster than Deckard at top speed. The magic techniques Deel used kept him ahead

  The man with the glasses fled through the streets.

  Deckard let him go, not far into the city, then circled toward the palace. He hoped he wouldn’t arrive too late.

  He landed as Lord Tanlos of Geteren’s Order of Empire emerged from the gates. The governor walked at the knight’s side. Lady Nasibron’s sword servant, Ariel, joined them. They met a group of healers and doctors from the city.

 

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