Satan's Gambit (The Barrier War Book 3)

by Brian J Moses

  - 6 -

  Birch stood woodenly between the demon king and Kaelus, who had not moved since the two paladins had entered the room. He felt Mephistopheles’s power crushing down on him like a fist, forcing him to physically submit to what his will would never allow. The demon was controlling Birch’s body now, but not his mind.

  God! Birch pleaded. Help me! I need you now as never before. Give me the strength to fight him – to resist! I trust you, Lord, and I know you will not let me fail.

  Even as he prayed in desperation, Birch was assailed by doubts. Why was there no response? No sign from God? Birch had always been loyal to God, to whom he’d pledged his life, even going so far as to denying himself the one thing he wanted above all else because he felt it conflicted with his duty to God. How could God not come to help him now, when he so desperately needed the divine strength?

  No! God has led me here and placed His trust in me. I am not a child to expect my father to swoop in and save me from a bully. I will trust.

  He took another step.

  How did Trames resist? Birch practically screamed in his mind as he took another step toward Mephistopheles. God, lend me the strength!

  He took another step and, despite the silent scream of anguish and resistance trapped within him, Birch started to kneel. The steel of his armor clanked as his limbs jerked into motion. He stared fixedly at the ground, willing it to repel him.

  “Kneel, mortal,” Mephistopheles hissed in malicious delight. “Kneel before me.”

  Birch’s right knee touched the ground and his hands curled into fists as he placed his knuckles on the bone floor. Every fiber of his body howled in defiance and strained against Mephistopheles’s power, but he was unable to so much as blink without the demon king’s power allowing it.

  He knelt in silence for a minute, then for another as Mephistopheles stared down at him in pleasure.

  “Now, mortal,” the demon king whispered, and a suppressed shiver rippled through Birch’s body, “look into my eyes and know true despair. I shall show you my mercy. I will not torture you right away, as I once thought to. I can hold you like this for eternity, trapped in a show of submission that will last until time itself crumbles and dissolves into the nether. Look into my eyes and see the fate of eternal acquiescence. Your fate.”

  Birch’s head lifted, and his burning gaze turned to the enthroned King of Hell.

  Their eyes locked.

  Immediately, Birch felt himself caught up in a whirlwind contest of wills as he reacted instinctively and fought back against the strength of Mephistopheles’s āyus. The demon that had become a part of Birch battled against the demon king – he, Birch, battled the demon king in a contest he’d never before experienced directly. He’d felt it once as a periphery effect when Kaelus had been within him, but that was a pale shade compared to the force of a direct, hostile confrontation.

  Shaishisii.

  The contest of immortal will and āyus raged between them, and it was with a profound sense of shock that Birch realized he was holding his own against the King of Hell. How?!? Mephistopheles had been the most powerful demon in existence since the dawn of time, and he’d only grown stronger since then. How was it that the fledgling demon within Birch, who had only been genesed a handful of months ago, was standing up to the lord of all demons?

  In that moment, Birch realized the truth about the demonic essence within him and was forced to admit what he’d resisted all along. Something Perklet had tried to tell him. The āyus was part of Birch, not something dwelling within him as Kaelus had been. There was no fledgling demon, there was only Birch himself, now part demon, and it was Birch who was defying the demon king’s power and standing firm against him.

  I already have the strength I need, Birch thought resolutely. God has already provided the means. Now it’s up to me to use it.

  Mephistopheles glared at Birch with a look of pure hatred tinged with confusion and even a trace of fear. The demon king had obviously not been expecting such a contest, not with a mere mortal, and he never would have conceived that it would be such a struggle. None had stood directly against him since the days of the Great Schism.

  The two demonic āyus battled incessantly, each striving to conquer the other to gain dominance and control. Birch wondered how Danner would fare, since his angelic āyus was holy against the evil of Mephistopheles’s accursed āyus – would it help or hinder him? Given the choice, Birch would still pit himself against the demon king, if only to spare his nephew.

  His thoughts sparked.

  Choice.

  That ability to choose is the greatest power a mortal or immortal creature can ever have. It gives you power over your self and can give you power over others.

  The words came back to Birch and burned across his mind as though written in Hellfire. That was the answer. That was how he stood against the demon king – why his immortal āyus was as strong as the most powerful demon in existence.

  Free will. Choice. Good. Evil. Absolute.

  I am. I am. I am.

  Birch felt the beating pulse of a greater existence throbbing through him, and for the first time began to truly understand the path of choice Perklet had tried to show him. He stopped trying to understand the concept of the Absolute, and suddenly it made sense to him. He ceased trying to narrow and focus his mind and instead acknowledged that the truly infinite existence, the Absolute, was both impossibly complex and yet perfectly simple at the same time. It was paradox, existence and non-existence combined. The source and the end of all things at every instant of infinity. It simply was.

  Good and Evil. They were one and the same, indistinguishable from one another while part of the Absolute. A single thought – if it could be called such – by the Absolute had created the two polar opposites, and as opposites they could not co-exist. The entire universe came into being for the sole purpose of giving the two ethical opposites a place to exist apart from each other, perhaps while the Absolute idly mused on the meaning of morality.

  God and Satan came into being as manifestations of the two, less than the Absolute but infinitely greater than anything that would follow. From the two divine entities sprang the first immortals, again somewhat less than their progenitors but greater than what would eventually spring from them in turn.

  Mortals. Life. The point in existence where Good and Evil came full circle and rejoined, but still not perfectly coexistent. The resulting creatures – living, sentient mortals – had to have the ability to choose between them at every instant of their existence, holding both potentials within them but always holding them apart through choice. The means of that choice was the freedom to make that choice.

  I am. I am. I am.

  Absolute. Evil. Good. Choice. Free will.

  Birch’s eyes blazed with hellish flames and Mephistopheles was hurled back as though struck by the fist of God Himself. The steel throne toppled to the ground and slid down from atop the bone dais, leaving the demon king stranded in disbelief and sudden fear.

  Daella disappeared momentarily and reappeared close to where Danner stood, now corporeal as a beautiful woman clad in form-fitting armor and armed with an array of blades. Her human appearance was marred by a pair of short horns and small leather wings. She reached forward as though to hold a knife to his throat, but recoiled as Danner sucked in a deep breath and jerked into motion. Suddenly freed of the demon king’s power, Danner’s sword leapt to parry a wild lunge from the demoness, and he immediately turned the attack back on her. Daella hissed at him and attacked again, this time with more deliberate skill, but Danner was able to hold her at bay.

  “Puny mortal,” Daella growled. Her inhumanly perfect lips peeled back from gleaming teeth, revealing two elongated canines.

  “Mortal?” Danner replied with a wry smile.

  As Daella surged forward to attack again, Danner’s wings flared to life, throwing the demoness off-balance in surprise. Her eyes widened in recognition.

  “Nephilim!” she exclaim
ed in undisguised shock. The Blue paladin reacted instinctively and slashed with his sword at Daella, who leapt out of reach, then circled the Blue paladin warily. She dissolved into a haze once again, and two glowing eyes watched Danner carefully.

  Across the room, the demon king had regained his feet and braced himself against an attack that never came. Birch remained where he was, calmly staring down his infernal opponent, practically daring him to look into his eyes yet again.

  “How?” Mephistopheles roared, and the walls shook with the force of his fury. “How is this possible?”

  He hurled a ball of black fire at Birch, who batted the obsidian flame away as he would a gnat. The demon king threw a spear of black ice at Birch, but it melted even as it touched the surface of his armor, leaving the burnished steel unmarked.

  “It is possible because he chooses it to be possible, Mephistopheles,” a deep voice rumbled behind Birch. Without turning around, the Gray paladin heard chains shatter and Kaelus came to stand next to him.

  Danner briefly caught his uncle’s eye, but he kept his attention on the indistinct presence that hovered menacingly nearby. Daella attacked then, a hand and sword amidst the black smoke, the only corporeal part of her body. Danner’s lightning reflexes allowed him to catch and turn the attack, and he nearly cut off Daella’s arm in retaliation as she jerked it clear. The smoky demon hissed in loathing and circled Danner warily. Twice more the demoness attacked, but Danner was a match for her speed, his training a match for her cunning.

  Birch nodded once, thankful his nephew was there to deter Daella. Newfound power and awareness notwithstanding, Birch was uncertain he and Kaelus could overcome the combined might of Hell’s two most powerful residents.

  “I am the King of Hell!” Mephistopheles raged. “None can thwart my will and power here. None! Not Maya, not Kaelus, not even God Himself can touch me here.”

  “God is the least of your worries, demon,” Birch told him. “Your fate was sealed by your own deity, whom you have forgotten. You wanted answers? It was Satan Himself who freed both Kaelus and me and set us on the path that brought us before you. As you feel your āyus ebb away and your existence unravel, think on the consequences of not showing piety to your God, no matter whom He might be.”

  “There is no Shaitan!” Mephistopheles screamed. “I am the King of Hell. I was the first demon, and I will exist long after the last of the immortals has faded into the nether.”

  The demon king’s body began to writhe and pulse. His muscles knotted over as his arms began to swell, and two horns pierced the flesh of his head and rose majestically above him.

  “Kaelus!” Birch barked, and the red-skinned demon immediately responded. Kaelus vanished from sight in the blink of an eye. He appeared just behind Mephistopheles and clamped his powerful arms around the demon king. Black and crimson talons tore at each other as Mephistopheles strove to overcome Kaelus, but the blood-red demon was too powerful and had the physical advantage of him. Physical strength usually meant little between contesting immortals, but in a struggle between two entities as evenly matched as Kaelus and Mephistopheles, it meant enough. Kaelus wrestled the demon king’s arms back and pinned them behind him. When Mephistopheles continued to struggle, Kaelus created another pair of arms to help restrain him. The demon king flickered briefly as he tried to translocate away, but Kaelus held him fast.

  Black and crimson power crackled between the two demons, threatening to lash out if either one gained the advantage. Foreseeing the eventual outcome, Daella gave up her standoff with Danner, faded to a non-corporeal mist, and fled the throne room, freeing the half-angel paladin to stand by his uncle’s side. They watched for what seemed an interminable, breathless moment, until at last Kaelus held the demon king immobile.

  “Now, Birch!”

  The Gray paladin strode forward and quickly mounted the dais with Danner at his side. Birch held out his hand, and Danner solemnly placed his sword in his uncle’s outstretched palm. Immediately, the blessed blade burned in Birch’s hand, but he took solace in the agony as the holy power writhed in his grip. So long as Birch remained half-demon, any blessed blade would irritate his flesh and sear his āyus, much as it had done when Kaelus had secretly possessed him.

  “You cannot do this!” Mephistopheles screamed in disbelief.

  Birch stared at him and held his gaze, forcing the demon king to submit to his will. Mephistopheles was held in thrall, and his body froze as Birch cut a horizontal line across the demon’s chest.

  “I could carve every moment of agony from your hide and make you feel every torture you inflicted on me a hundred times over,” the Gray paladin said in a grim voice. “I could hold you in thrall for eternity, make you dishnara, keeping you as my personal slave for the most degrading tasks known to man.” He carved another line lower down, across the demon’s belly. Mephistopheles’s eyes bulged in terror, but still he was held fast by the combination of Kaelus’s strength and the force of Birch’s will. “A demon would. A man might be tempted, at least to exact his revenge. Fortunately for you, I am not a man. I am a paladin.”

  Birch made one last cut up the demon’s chest, completing the holy Tricrus. Mephistopheles writhed and unleashed a deafening howl of immortal agony. Danner clutched his ears and fell back a step in pain, and even Kaelus had difficulty containing the wild thrashing of the fatally wounded demon king. Birch reached out with his left hand and grasped Mephistopheles’s head and looked deeply into his eyes. Kaelus let go of Mephistopheles and stepped away – the King of Hell was once more frozen by the power of Birch’s will.

  “This is a paladin’s mercy,” Birch said. He released Mephistopheles and, with a two-handed grip, drove Danner’s sword down through the top of the demon king’s skull.

  Chapter 42

  Fear only that which is worth it. The exceptions to this are God, life, and death, which should never be feared.

  - Birch de’Valderat,

  “Memoirs” (1013 AM)

  - 1 -

  Garnet looked up at the sound of screaming from the room beyond and nearly lost his head as a Black Viscia attacked him from behind. He spun and used the Black’s own momentum to throw him against the nearest wall. Garnet followed up with a swift strike that left the cursed paladin with only one arm, then turned to look for another opponent.

  He charged toward a drolkul but was nearly thrown off his feet when the doors to Mephistopheles’s throne room burst open and a crimson whirlwind surged into the anteroom. A massive face appeared in the spiraling pillar of wind, and Garnet recognized the demonic features of Kaelus.

  The whirlwind expanded to encompass the whole room, and Garnet felt himself drawn up as a swirl of power swept through him. He saw nothing but red and felt no wind around him. Garnet closed his eyes, trusting the demon to carry them to safety.

  When his vision at last cleared, Garnet was standing on the plains of Abaddon with the palace well behind them. The entire force of paladins and denarae was there with him, including those who had stayed outside to fight the daemelans, which were nowhere in sight. He grinned and looked for his friends.

  Garnet saw Trebor and Guilian hurrying toward a knot of people, and he quickly followed in their wake. His breath caught in his throat as he looked down at the bloody shape laying on the ground. Flasch’s violet cloak was twisted beneath him and he lay crumpled in a heap, drenched in blood.

  No one said a word as Trebor knelt by their friend’s side and reached a hand toward his throat.

  Garnet held his breath while he waited.

  “He’s alive!” Trebor proclaimed in surprise.

  Flasch groaned and rolled onto his back as Trebor probed his body for injuries. The dead Green paladin frowned.

  “I don’t think there’s more than a scratch or two on him,” he said in confusion. “Most of this is someone else’s blood.” Flasch blinked his eyes, and Trebor helped him to slowly sit up.

  “It’s not possible,” the denarae said. “I saw the daemelan’s bla
de strike you. You should have been cut in half.”

  Flasch coughed and spit blood on the ground next to him.

  “I remember reacting and twisting at the last second before I blacked out,” he said hoarsely, then trailed off, rubbing his head. Flasch looked more than a little confused himself as he probed his side with his fingers. His armor had a deep gash cut through it where the demon’s blade had struck a blow that – as Trebor said – should have shorn the Violet paladin in twain. Flasch shifted the tattered edge of his armor and revealed a flimsy strip of cloth that Garnet immediately recognized as a scarf he’d given to his sister a few years before. He also recognized the knot tied in the material, and he sighed in resignation even as he grinned at his friend’s miraculous survival.

  The scarf was cut, but not deeply, as though a massive blade had struck but had been turned aside by the flimsy material. At least that was one explanation.

  “You are the luckiest son of a bitch in the world,” Trebor marveled.

  “Either that or some things are stronger than demon steel,” Flasch murmured. He looked up at Garnet and saw the smile on his face, then answered with a grin of his own.

  Nearby, Danner and Birch stood next to Kaelus and surveyed the group. In the distance, the palace of the demon king slowly began to crumble as its master faded from existence. As one, the entire group turned to watch the demonstone structure collapse. Aside from Kaelus, there wasn’t a demon in sight as the palace fell, so they stayed to watch in silence. Not all of the palace fell in, but by the time the black dust settled, more than half of the structure lay in ruins.

  Birch turned to Kaelus.

  “Can you take us all the way back to Medina?”

  The demon nodded.

  “Then let’s go.”

  Kaelus spun once in a circle and crimson power engulfed them all.

  - 2 -

  Molekh bellowed a war cry of sheer bloodlust and tore a Cherub’s wings from her back before crushing her angelic skull. He tossed the twitching pieces to the side, ignoring them as they dissolved into motes of light and disappeared. Strength and unholy power suffused his body, his āyus strengthened by the angelic blood-letting that surrounded him as he tasted victory.