Arran growled and raised his crimson sword.
The Sacred Blade began to glow.
Siduri hissed and drew back from the blade.
“What are you?” said Arran.
The thing masquerading as Siduri hissed. “You filth. You vermin.” Her voice deepened, acquiring a whispery rasp. “You are nothing but a feeble spirit trapped in a shell of rotting flesh.” She stared at the floor, shaking. “And to save you and your kind the Divine betrayed us. For you we were locked into the eternal darkness, the voids without light.” Her voice became an enraged snarl.
Arran swallowed. “You’re one of those things that killed Sir Liam. You are a child of the void.”
She laughed, still looking at the floor. “But not for much longer, mortal. It ends. The seals shatter. Soon, they will break! And then we shall be free after so long. We shall reclaim everything that was taken from us.” She looked up, and her eyes had become black pits into the void. Shadowy wings spread from her back, and claws of shadow sprouted from her fingertips, darkness lining her form. “And we shall begin with you!”
The creature flung itself at Arran with a howl of rage. Arran sidestepped, whirled, and brought his Sacred Blade flashing down. The weapon burst into to brilliant white flames, power pulsing up his arm. His blow slashed through the creature’s body in a white flash. It wailed and collapsed to the floor, its form dissolving into black smoke.
“Gods,” muttered Arran.
The cold breeze grew to an icy wind. Angry whispers murmured through the corridor.
Another creature leapt from the breach in the wall. Arran took a step back, his sword coming up to a guard position. The thing looked like a human man wreathed in shadows, long claws of icy darkness trailing from its fingers. The creature hissed and lunged at Arran. He spun, his sword trailing white flames, and the Sacred Blade sheared the creature in half. It howled and collapsed into black smoke. Two more jumped from the hole, and Arran dispatched them with a thrust and a spinning slash.
The muttering whispers grew louder.
Arran risked a glance back at the domed chamber and cursed. Hundreds of the shadow-creatures filled the chamber, spilling out from the damaged corridor in a dark wave. Yet another creature sprang from the nearby black hole, moving in a shadowy blur. Arran destroyed it, spun on his heel, and ran. According to the directions Kaemarz had given him, the doors to Earth lay not far ahead.
He could make it.
He had to make it.
A section of wall exploded, revealing more of the infinite darkness. Arran cursed and threw his arm over his face as bits of rock slapped against his arm and chest. A trio of the shadow creatures leapt at him. Arran roared and met their attack, his Sacred Blade whirling and spinning. The creatures wailed and dissolved into black smoke.
More rubble fell from the fresh hole, and a huge dark arm, thick as a tree trunk, reached through. Its long claws cut grooves in the stone floor, its fingers twitching like the legs of a giant spider. Arran gaped for a moment, shock and horror overriding his mind. Then his combat-honed reflexes took over and he stabbed. His Sacred Blade sank into the hideous arm’s wrist, and a spasm of pain went up its length. Arran jerked the weapon back and hammered it down in a two-handed chop. The blade sheared through the wrist in a flash of white flame. The hand fell to the earth and vanished into black smoke. A ghastly whispered wail cut into Arran’s ears, and the mutilated arm disappeared back into the darkness.
Arran looked over his shoulder. The horde of shadow creatures had almost reached him. He sprinted with all the strength he could muster. The floor trembled, sparks of green lightning crackling over the ceiling. The chorus of maddened whispers gnawed at his mind.
He took another five steps and skidded to a halt.
Another horde of the shadow creatures charged him from the front, streaming out of the holes in the walls and ceiling. Arran tried to think of something, but before he could react, the creatures at his heels caught up to him. They spread in a ring around him, hissing and whispering, staying out of his Sacred Blade’s reach.
Arran swallowed. The children of the void had surrounded him, just as they had done to Sir Liam. One of the creatures lunged at him, and Arran speared it on his sword point. The creature wailed and shuddered into nothingness.
“Come, then,” said Arran, trying to think of a plan. “Which of you devils is next?” He had not come through ten years of battle to perish so close to the doors of Earth! His Sacred Blade burned in his hand, its fires fueled by Siduri’s blood…
Siduri’s blood…
His hand closed around the grenade at his belt, the grenade he had dipped in her blood.
“Find Alastarius on Earth,” he whispered.
He yanked the pin from the grenade and flung it into the mass of the shadow creatures. In the same motion he drew the gun he had loaded with one of the ammunition cartridges dipped in Siduri’s blood. The creatures hissed at him as the grenade hit the floor, their whispery laughter echoing in the cold air.
Their laughter stopped as the grenade exploded.
Shards of white fire sprayed in all directions, ripping through dozens of the fiends like a scythe through weeds. A chorus of whispered screams rose up. Arran did not wait for the glare to fade but charged forward, roaring Sir Liam’s name and Siduri’s name, sword in his right hand and gun in his left. He fired as he charged, sword slashing. The gun thrummed with power, and the bullets left the muzzle enveloped in balls of white fire. They ripped through the children of the void, disintegrating four or five each before exploding against the walls. The creatures reeled in shock, wailing and whispering. Arran tore through them, his sword arm working, the gun roaring in his hand. He cut down two creatures, shot another, and broke free.
The corridor ahead lay empty.
He charged forward, reckless in his speed. The chorus of whispers rose to an enraged crescendo, and the children of the void pursued him in a ragged mass. He fired back at them, gun spitting balls of white fire. The bullets shredded the front rank of the creatures, and then the gun clicked empty. Arran cursed and shoved it back into its holster.
He dashed into a huge vaulted gallery. Five doors of rune-carved black stone stood in the far wall. Marugon’s sigil had been burned into the stone of the center door. Arran raced towards it, yet his mind screamed a warning. Kaemarz had told him to take that door. Yet it likely opened into whatever stronghold Marugon had established on Earth. Kaemarz’s directions had led him true so far.
But the man would have tried to betray him sooner or later.
“Not that door,” Arran gasped.
He changed direction and ran for the far-left door. His hesitation had cost him time, and the children of the void flooded the gallery, whispering for his blood. Arran slammed full-speed into the door.
It moved an inch.
Arran cursed and shoved at the door, putting all his strength and weight into it. The door moved with agonizing slowness. “Open, damn you, open, open…”
The door swung open with the growl of stone on stone. A brilliant shaft of white light shot out. He caught a glimpse of a grassy clearing and a line of trees in the distance.
Arran overbalanced and tumbled through the door.
A chorus of whispered howls rose up behind him. Cold claws tugged at his cloak.
The door slammed shut behind him.
THE END
Thank you for reading A KNIGHT OF THE SACRED BLADE. Turn the page for a preview of the next book in series, A Wizard of the White Council. For immediate notification of new releases, you can sign up for my email newsletter here, or watch for news on my Facebook page.
Bonus Excerpt from A WIZARD OF THE WHITE COUNCIL
Anno Domini 2012
Ally Wester awoke in her dorm room with a scream.
A dream. A nightmare, one she had dreamed before. A man with swords of fire faced down things of shadow in a corridor of stone as Ally ran for her life, her brother Lithon clutched in her arms. Usually the dream ended
when the shadow-things ripped apart the man with the burning swords and charged in pursuit of Ally, hissing her name, whispering for her blood…
But this time, something different happened.
The dark man drew a crimson sword that burned with white flame, and he charged through the shadow-things, cutting them down with every step. He fell through a door of stone, vanishing as the shadow-things shrieked their fury. And then…and then…
The memories of the dream faded from her mind.
She looked around her dorm room. It was deserted, save for her possessions. Her roommate of two days was gone, no doubt getting drunk or stoned or both. She heard the distant noise of music and parties, but the room was otherwise silent.
Ally lay back down and tried to get some sleep.
Images of a burning sword flickered through her mind as sleep took her.
Click on this link to continue reading A Wizard of the White Council.
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About the author
Standing over six feet tall, Jonathan Moeller has the piercing blue eyes of a Conan of Cimmeria, the bronze-colored hair a Visigothic warrior-king, and the stern visage of a captain of men, none of which are useful in his career as a computer repairman, alas.
He has written the DEMONSOULED series of sword-and-sorcery novels, and continues to write THE GHOSTS sequence about assassin and spy Caina Amalas, the COMPUTER BEGINNER'S GUIDE series of computer books, and numerous other works.
Visit his website at:
http://www.jonathanmoeller.com
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http://www.jonathanmoeller.com/screed
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Table of Contents
Book description
Other books by the author
Chapter 1 - The Battle of the Emerald Plain
Chapter 2 - First Day
Chapter 3 - The Desert of Scorpions
Chapter 4 - Premonitions
Chapter 5 - The Speech
Chapter 6 - Scorpions' Hold
Chapter 7 - A Business Arrangement
Chapter 8 - Exile
Chapter 9 - Memories
Chapter 10 - The Hour Of My Death
Chapter 11 - I Don't Know What I Did
Chapter 12 - The Ildramyn
Chapter 13 - The Weapon
Chapter 14 - A Doorway
Chapter 15 - Changelings
Chapter 16 - A Chance Meeting
Chapter 17 - Interrogation
Chapter 18 - The Assassin
Chapter 19 - The Ghosts of Castle Bastion
Chapter 20 - The Hunters
Chapter 21 - Return to the Tower
Chapter 22 - The Caretaker of the Dead
Chapter 23 - The Children of the Void
Bonus Excerpt from A WIZARD OF THE WHITE COUNCIL
Other books you might enjoy
About the author
Table of Contents
Book description
Other books by the author
Chapter 1 - The Battle of the Emerald Plain
Chapter 2 - First Day
Chapter 3 - The Desert of Scorpions
Chapter 4 - Premonitions
Chapter 5 - The Speech
Chapter 6 - Scorpions' Hold
Chapter 7 - A Business Arrangement
Chapter 8 - Exile
Chapter 9 - Memories
Chapter 10 - The Hour Of My Death
Chapter 11 - I Don't Know What I Did
Chapter 12 - The Ildramyn
Chapter 13 - The Weapon
Chapter 14 - A Doorway
Chapter 15 - Changelings
Chapter 16 - A Chance Meeting
Chapter 17 - Interrogation
Chapter 18 - The Assassin
Chapter 19 - The Ghosts of Castle Bastion
Chapter 20 - The Hunters
Chapter 21 - Return to the Tower
Chapter 22 - The Caretaker of the Dead
Chapter 23 - The Children of the Void
Bonus Excerpt from A WIZARD OF THE WHITE COUNCIL
Other books you might enjoy
About the author
A Knight of the Sacred Blade Page 32