The Titan's Tome

by M. B. Schroeder

  The church had been built on a hill, and steps circled it, forcing anyone on the streets below to have to look up to see its majesty. The majesty was gone now. The once white stone had been charred gray and black, with deep gouges where demons had clawed at the structure. Some of the steeples had been broken off, crashing through the roof, but others still stood, demons clinging to them, like it was some macabre tree with distorted birds.

  “Don’t let them touch you,” Armagon warned. “Demons are tainted and will sicken you with just a scratch, same with hell-forged weapons.”

  Camry swallowed to wet her dry throat. The fear had wrapped around her mind again at the sight of so many of the hell spawn, and though she shook, Camry did not run. She let the magic, that always wanted to funnel into her being, collect freely as she readied herself to release it. Her eyes, once again, began to glow.

  The crowd of demons began to notice the pair, some charged forward, eager to try and capture the wayward devil-son and earn a reward from Mammon. Others shied away, worried voices muttering, “Lord Armagon! That sword!”

  Armagon surged forward, his weapons slicing into demon flesh and rending armor. The NecroKwar added a haunting sound to the massacre as it ripped through demons.

  Camry bounced on the balls of her feet, trying to get back the courage she had gained after killing the three imps. She turned to the left of the path Armagon was forging, and released a sharp yellow beam of power, searing holes through the demons crowding too close together. It drew attention to her, the demons recognizing her as a hazard. But, she shifted to the right of Armagon and did the same to the demons there. It kept the sarpand’s flanks clear and she could follow him into the mob, which forced the creatures to consider the peril of them both together.

  Armagon was impressed with Camry’s aptitude, her clearing of the opposition on either side made his advance easier. A sphere of magic was hurled at him and Armagon lunged to the right, his swords spearing demons to clear his path. He didn’t have time to warn Camry or try and protect her from the attack. In a panic, he spun back to search for her corpse.

  Camry’s had time to grin at the orb before it broke apart and she absorbed the spell’s power. The mage who had thrown the spell was gathering another one, but this one looked more like a bolt of red energy. She released a gout of bright light, ripping through the press of demons until it impacted the partially scaled spell caster.

  Armagon’s eyes widened, he’d never seen a channeler in action before. Without DraKar at his side, he had little defense against the magic wielders. He recovered from his distraction quickly and began his advance through the horde again.

  More of the demons were backing away now, realizing Armagon was not only armed with a legendary weapon, but the elf at his back was a greater risk than they’d expected. The pair climbed the stairs, and Armagon whipped the NecroKwar through several demons that tried to lunge at him, even the ones he nicked fell dead.

  Camry was flooded with the raw excitement of battle. She didn’t relish it, but it kept her more aware, kept the fear at bay, and distracted her from the stench of demons. More flying imps were coming close, and she destroyed them before they could attack with their spit. Her flashes of power were like lightning; brightening the night, then letting the darkness fall back in before her next blast lit the area. She started tracking backward, glancing toward Armagon to make sure she was still with him while killing any demons that endangered them from behind.

  They were close to the church when a row of demons with crossbows stepped into the ragged opening in the wall. Armagon turned and lunged at Camry, bearing her to the ground as the sound of the bolts firing thrummed. She screamed from under him, not knowing what had attacked her from behind. He scrambled to get off her before she turned her power against him.

  A spear glanced off the armor along his side, and Armagon swung at the approaching demons as he recovered his footing. Several more fell to his blades as Camry looked back at him frantically.

  “Kill the archers before they reload,” Armagon ordered.

  Camry stood and looked past Armagon’s spinning weapons; the crossbows were almost ready to fire again. She couldn’t get a clear shot past the sarpand. “Move!”

  Armagon roared and dove at the demons trying to attack them from the right, hoping she had enough time to kill the ones with the crossbows.

  Camry directed a spray of her power at the line of demons just inside the church wall, incinerating two of the shots as they fired. One bolt slipped below her fire, and she staggered back from its impact. A gasp wheezed from Camry’s lips as her fingers fluttered over the shaft protruding from her stomach. She blinked, her mind trying to understand what happened, as she watched the lifeless remains of the demons collapse, their weapons reduced to charred hunks of wood and iron.

  Armagon turned to Camry as she fell to her knees, and saw the shock of pain flash in her eyes as the bolt jarred from her fall. He moved to defend her from the demons rushing in, cutting and slashing through their armored bodies.

  A voice boomed from deep within the church, the walls of the dilapidated building shook with the force. The message was short, but in a guttural, growling language Camry didn’t recognize.

  Armagon hissed in frustration, but the demons stopped their assault. Warily, he put away his sword, but kept the NecroKwar held defensively over Camry. He grabbed her arm and pulled her back toward the church as the demons watched, just beyond the reach of his sword. Camry groaned as he dragged her through the gaping hole in the church wall, the debris from multiple attempts to shore up the opening lay splintered around it. It was the only building in Log Port unprotected by the warding.

  Camry moaned and squeezed her eyes shut to concentrate on not screaming. Armagon pulled her past the slowly disintegrating remains of the demons she’d killed; she could feel the heat from their charred remains through her clothing. Finally, he eased her body flat on the smooth floor of the church. The grime and soot from countless nights of demonic attacks staining the back of her tunic. The walls had been stripped of religious artifacts and were just as dirt covered as the floor. The pews had long ago been cast aside and burned against the walls.

  Camry pressed her fingers tips to the wound and hot blood coated them. “I should have listened to you.”

  Armagon didn’t answer, and moved to her side on his knees. He set the NecroKwar down on the floor beside him, careful not to put the blade too close to Camry, but kept it within easy reach. He pulled apart her shirt to expose the wound and couldn’t help the grimace that crossed his scaled features at the blood pooling on her lavender skin.

  Camry heard him mutter under his breath, she didn’t recognize the language, but she guessed that he was cursing. If it didn’t hurt so much to draw in air, she might have joined him.

  The foreign voice echoed through the church again, making the floor vibrate under Camry. She closed her eyes and turned her face as the shaking dropped specks of dust and soot from the ceiling. Armagon’s grumbling continued as he pushed her hands from the bolt.

  “Hold on, child,” Armagon said, his voice hushed, but he didn’t know how he could help her.

  Warmth from the NecroKwar, made him reach for the hilt.

  “You are my cleric.”

  Selien’s voice hit Armagon hard, and his chest felt like it might constrict and break his ribs. The knowledge of how to help Camry etched itself upon his mind, as though he had always known how to wield the power granted to him. He let the sword slip from his hand, the handle dropping back to the floor without a sound. He hesitantly reached for Camry’s wound, and the heat that had been within the NecroKwar raced through his fingertips. Camry gave a cry as the bolt exited her body without Armagon touching it. The blood stopped pumping from the hole the shaft left. Both of them stared as her skin healed over, leaving a small puckered scar.

  “I’d wanted to wait, to have a mortal train you, but she is my niece. Imparting this knowledge directly already weakens the binding
on the Dark One. Don’t make me do it again.”

  Camry felt at her skin, brushing away the blood, and sucking in deep breaths. “You’re a cleric?”

  Armagon gaped, as shocked as she was. “Apparently.” He took in the new sight of her aura, the way it seemed to pull in energy. Was this what DraKar saw when he released his hold on magic to examine auras? He’d never be free of seeing auras again, clerics never lost the sight like mages when they kept hold of their magic.

  Camry got to her feet, Armagon holding her arm to assist her. She’d never needed to be healed by a cleric before, and while the wound was whole, there was still an ache from the newly knitted flesh.

  “Who are you a cleric for?” Camry asked.

  Armagon picked up the NecroKwar and offered a small salute with the blade. “Death.”

  Camry scowled at the answer, not understanding how a god of death could offer healing magic. She decided to focus her questions on more pressing matters. “Who was yelling? Why have the demons backed away?”

  Armagon scowled. “My son. He ordered them back.”

  Camry’s head jerked up from trying to tie her blood-soaked shirt back together. “Son?”

  She didn’t have the opportunity to question him further, as he was advancing on the cavernous hole. Camry’s throat went dry, and she stared at Armagon’s back. The sounds of the demons outside the church closed in on her as the sarpand got further away. She glanced back and saw several of the creatures staring at her from the opening. She swallowed, and hurried after Armagon, doubting the demons would stay back once he was gone from sight.

  “Before we knew we were more than an archdevil’s sons,” Armagon grumbled when she caught up. “DraKar and I were used for breeding.”

  Camry shook her head, not wanting to think about the subject anymore. Later, she decided, if she survived what was below, she might find the courage to question him further about the Hells.

  The hole held a ramp made of rubble, and Camry skidded down the steep embankment behind Armagon. They landed in a tunnel as large as the worship area of the desecrated church. A flickering red light flooded the tunnel, but she couldn’t see far enough to discern what was at the end. She could only guess the light was from the magic fueling the portal. Her body craved to draw in that power, but she focused her mind to keep from pulling in too much.

  “Don’t touch the walls.”

  Blood-soaked ridges of stone lined the tunnel. The ridges shifted, like they were breathing or a vein twitching while pumping blood. Her voice cracked as she asked, “What is it?”

  “Blood granite. Razor sharp, if you touch it you’ll be cut, and it will start growing to hold onto you until there’s no more blood. Some of the greater temples in the Hells are grown from it. They must have had hundreds of offerings to grow it this far from the portal.” Armagon glanced back to judge her state of mind. “Like that woman when we left the inn.”

  “Right,” Camry muttered. “Not touching it.”

  Armagon continued down the tunnel, and the light from the portal grew brighter until a final descent, down another pile of earth and rocks, presented the chamber. The portal stood in the middle of the vast circular cavern. Also crafted from blood granite, it took up much of the room. Beneath it was a pool of blood, which Camry couldn’t discern if it were shallow or a bottomless abyss. It looked to act as a reservoir for the portal to use, and the blood granite didn’t drain it away. Ruby light and shadow swirled within the portal, as red electricity arced across it.

  A black scaled demon, twice as tall as Armagon, guarded a cloaked figure and the portal. Amber eyes shone within his draconic features. Wings with no membranes between the bony frames sprouted from his back, and the ends were tipped with sharp metal spikes. Saliva dripped from his thickly fanged maw, and he spoke again, spitting the words. He slammed the haft of his spear against the thick plate that covered the expanse of his chest, sending an echo of metal against metal ricocheting around the cavern.

  Camry could feel the vibration of the growl building in Armagon’s chest. He answered in the same harsh language and drew his other sword.

  “Stay here, and don’t let the other one leave.”

  Camry nodded, although Armagon wasn’t looking at her. She studied the power feeding the portal, unsure if she could interfere with it to keep any more demons from coming through. The magic powering it was distorted beyond what she was used to channeling, and it made her recoil from reaching out to it. The sensation reminded her of the visceral reaction from tasting spoiled meat.

  Armagon slid to the floor of the cavern, judging the beast before him. It would be difficult to get past the reach of the spear. Neither he nor the half-demon said anything else to each other.

  Armagon lunged into the air with heavy beats of his wings, to draw the creature’s guard higher as he closed the distance between them. The speed of the spear strike made him tumble from the air. Only by jerking to the side did he save his head from being sliced off, though a line of blood bloomed from the wound along his neck. The hell-forged spear was one of the few blade types that could cut through his augmented scales, but he was immune to the poison the weapons were tempered in.

  Camry stood, desperate to help Armagon as he fell. The blood from his neck marked the floor as he rolled past another strike from the spear. She sent a streak of her power at the massive creature and was shocked when he caught the yellow magic in his hand. Dark, jagged claws bore into the bolt. He slid the foot back Armagon was swinging for and threw the bolt of power at the sarpand.

  Camry gave a desperate cry, reaching out, trying to recall the magic before it hit Armagon, but she was too late. Once released, she had no control over it. The yellow flash made her turn away, and she looked back, Armagon had blocked the bolt with the NecroKwar. She wouldn’t try to help him anymore with the fight, and instead, concentrated on finding the cloaked figure Armagon told her to watch. She chastised herself for not listening to him, again.

  Camry searched the area around the portal for the cloaked figure. She caught sight of it, with a small crossbow in hand, opposite the pillar where Armagon was fighting the giant half-demon. She didn’t want to incinerate this creature as she had with the demons before. Armagon had said to make sure he stayed, so he must have a purpose for him. Another flash of magic coursed from her hands, aimed at the darkly shrouded individual, but she gave a cry as the small metal bolt left the crossbow before the person was knocked over by her power.

  Armagon was trying to keep the spear haft from crushing him. His hell-forged blade dropped at his feet, and the NecroKwar held before him with both hands. A stab of pain from the bolt, seared through his right shoulder and down the length of his arm, making him lose his grip on the sword. The spear haft crashed down on him, breaking several bones in his left wing and smacking into the slice along his neck. He collapsed from the blow and rolled away, grunting as the bolt buried deeper into his flesh, through his armor, and the broken bones ground together.

  Camry’s fingers itched to release another blast of her power at the monstrous demon stabbing at Armagon’s rolling body. But she didn’t dare give it the raw magic again. She had a sword on her hip, but she wasn’t as good with it as Armagon, or as strong, and she would likely just get in the way. The shrouded figure was struggling to rise and she hit it again with another yellow flash. The smell of cooking flesh wafted into the malodorous air.

  Camry slid down the ramp of rubble and drew her sword. As she raced across the cavern, she glanced back at the battle and saw Armagon was on his feet again. In front of her, the figure was groaning, and smoke rose from his body. She moved behind him and jerked the cloak back, her sword pointed at his neck.

  Beneath the hood was the pale head of a balding man, graying hairs plastered to his sweaty pate. His clothes were burned away, and his chest was raw and seared around remnants of the cloth, much like the man she’d attacked near the inn.

  Camry had been prepared for a demon, a distorted face, something more
than just an aging human. Armagon’s pained roar drew her attention, as the bones of his broken wing snapped back into place, mending; from his newly discovered clerical power. The metal bolt slowly left his shoulder, looking like it was growing out of his armor, until it clattered to the floor and the slice along his neck healed.

  Camry dragged the unconscious man to a sitting position against her knees and kept her sword across his burned throat. “Stop!”

  Armagon didn’t face her, he had managed to distance himself from the demon, with enough time to heal himself, but the NecroKwar was still out of reach.

  The draconic demon paused long enough to glance at Camry and her hostage. He licked at the leathery skin between his nostrils. “Kill him. I don’t care.” The words were slurred, his tongue not used to the Merchant language. Too late, he refocused on Armagon, the black sarpand had lunged for his sword as soon as the demon had looked to Camry.

  With a grunt of effort, Armagon slashed up as the spear was driven down where the NecroKwar had been, and he reached the beast’s wrist. The blade sliced through the thick scales, dipping into the blood and curdling it like rotten milk. The demon gasped as he died, forcing Armagon to dodge out of the way of the falling body. He took a moment to catch his breath, before turning to where Camry stood with the cloaked man slouched in front of her, her sword still held to his throat.

  “Who is he?” she demanded, nodding at the pale, charred figure.

  “Former High Priest Hernus, servant of Thesda. Currently, a dealer with devils,” Armagon answered and jerked the man up, holding him off the ground with one hand. “He bargained away this church over three hundred years ago. Though, the sanctified ground wouldn’t have been able to stop me and DraKar. It amused Mammon to have his portal made here.” The man’s eyes opened weakly and then widened at seeing the black sarpand. “I didn’t know you’d become the steward for this portal.” His voice dripped with detest. “I have a message I need you to carry.”