"They, too, will receive their justice this night, but not before you!" the Hunter growled.
"Please," the First retorted, rolling his eyes, "your bravado is wasted."
Turning to Tane, he waved his hand toward the Hunter in a contemptuous gesture. "Take him."
"Alive?" Tane asked, flexing his hands in eager anticipation.
"Yes," nodded the First. "We need his blood."
He turned to face the Hunter, who glared back in defiance. "Break every bone in his body, if you must," the First said, speaking to Tane without ever taking his eyes off the Hunter, "but take him alive."
"You coward!" snarled the Hunter. "Face me like a man!"
"Fool!" retorted the First. "Your theatrics are meaningless to me. You may have thwarted my plans here, but I will return stronger than ever. Voramis is my city, and nothing you can do will stop me. I do not fear those foolish blades"—his eyes flicked to the Swordsman's daggers—"for you will never come close enough to touch me with them."
Turning away from the Hunter, he placed a hand on Tane's shoulder. "Break him," he snarled, "and bring him to me!"
He strode toward the mouth of the tunnel, his pace unhurried and calm.
"I will find you!" shouted the Hunter. "By the gods, Demon, I will hunt you down for what you have done!"
The First didn't look back as he disappeared into the darkness of the passages.
"It's just you and me," Tane growled, a vicious smile crossing his face. The big man had drawn Soulhunger from its pedestal. The long blade seemed puny in his massive hands. His dark eyes tracked the Hunter's movements, wary and expectant. He shifted on the balls of his feet, carrying himself with the confidence of a dancer.
Soulhunger pounded in the Hunter's mind, lusting for blood. His blood. The dagger had had a taste, and it wanted more. The thought sickened the Hunter.
"Come on, then," the Hunter snarled.
He saw nothing but confidence in Tane's eyes; the Third stared at him with the hunger of a snake slithering toward a trapped mouse. With deliberate slowness, the big man tucked Soulhunger into his belt, as if taunting the Hunter to "come and get it". Turning his back contemptuously on the Hunter, he strode to the nearby wall. A staff nearly as tall as the man himself leaned against the stone, but Tane gripped it easily despite its length and thickness. The pole whistled through the air as the brute swung it with quick, powerful movements
Bloody hell! The Hunter marveled at the grace of the huge man. A twinge of fear ran through him—his opponent might very well outmatch him—but pushed it out of his mind.
Nothing I can do about that.
Besides, he had no time to waste; he couldn't let the First escape.
The Hunter lunged forward, thrusting the iron blades in a quick feint toward Tane's midsection. The huge Third swung his staff in an overhand blow powerful enough to crush the Hunter's skull. The Hunter managed to leap out of the way, then stepped inside Tane's guard, his swords slashing for the Third's throat.
Tane proved faster than the Hunter expected. The Third managed to evade the Hunter's thrust and even launch a counter of his own, his staff whistling through the air toward the Hunter's left temple. Ducking, the Hunter leapt to the side, out of range of the spinning staff.
The big Third pressed him hard. He whirled and struck from all angles. The Hunter dodged where possible, but found himself forced to block with both of the Swordsman's blades. The force of Tane's blows jarred his arms and shoulders.
By the Swordsman, he thought, cursing inwardly as he struggled to stay out of the reach of Tane's weapon. That staff weighs far more than it should.
Tane wielded his long weapon with deceptive ease, but the Hunter feared its weight more than its speed. He guessed the pole had a steel core—it probably weighed more than he did.
"This staff has broken men far larger and stronger than you," the Third snarled. The man reeked of confidence, a musky odor that blended with his scent of dried blood and cold steel. "It will break you as well."
"Only…" the Hunter growled between panting breaths, "if it…can hit me."
A newfound respect for the Third filled the Hunter, along with a nagging worry. Tane's heavy staff not only had the longer reach, but could shatter his iron daggers. The Hunter knew the Swordsman's blades wouldn't survive too many blows from the staff. He had to deflect those strikes he could not dodge.
Reflex took over, and animal instinct alone kept the Hunter alive as he evaded the ferocious swings. Sweat dripped down his face, stinging his eyes and forcing him to retreat. Wiping his forehead, he felt the moisture soften the leather grips of the ancient Swordsman's blades.
"It's a shame you have refused to join us." The voice coming from Tane's mouth startled the Hunter. It was guttural, somehow less than human. "You could have been a useful ally."
The Hunter gaped. "What are you—?" Empty blackness stared back at him from Tane's eyes, mirroring the depthless void of his own.
Damn it! The Hunter cursed inwardly. One demon was bad enough, but two?
"You, too?"
Startled, the Hunter lost concentration for a moment, long enough for Tane to slam the butt end of the staff into his stomach. He rolled with the force of the blow, allowing it to knock him back. When he found his feet, however, his breath wheezed in his lungs, and he fought the urge to vomit.
I have to end this before the First escapes. He couldn't let that happen.
Tane lunged again, his staff whirling above his head with blinding speed. The Hunter's forearms ached from the repeated battering. His arms, shoulders, and neck complained every time Tane's whirring staff slammed into his blades, but he had begun to find the pattern in the Third's strikes.
A quick step to the left sold the Hunter's feint, and Tane brought his staff in a cross-body blow meant to shatter the Hunter's knee. The Hunter, however, leapt to the right, avoiding contact. Committed to his strike, Tane could not block the Hunter's slash in time.
"Argghh!" the Third screamed. Iron seeped into his blood from the deep gash in his forearm. Spider veins blackened on his arms as the metal coursed through him. Pain showed on the big man's face, but he gripped the staff tighter in shaking hands.
Tane unleashed a barrage of quick strikes in an attempt to end the fight, but the Hunter had learned his lesson. Dodging another heavy swipe of the staff, he leapt inside Tane's guard to slice another shallow cut on the man's leg. The Hunter stepped back, out of the reach of Tane's staff, his teeth bared in a grin. The wound wouldn't be fatal, but it would slow down the huge Third.
Tane limped in pursuit, favoring his wounded knee. There was a second of hesitation, and in that moment, the Hunter saw a glimpse of fear—mingled with respect—in the Third's depthless eyes. Tane had expected the fight to be over in seconds, but the Hunter's speed and the effects of the iron blades had left him vulnerable.
Time to finish it, you bastard.
The Hunter moved before the big man could react, lunging forward and thrusting his sword toward Tane's throat. Tane blocked and struck back with a blow that jarred the Hunter's right arm.
The force of the contact threw the Hunter to the ground, but he twisted his body as he fell and rolled around behind the Third. The iron blade in the Hunter's uninjured hand lashed out, slicing through sinew at the back of Tane's right ankle. The giant's calf muscle rolled up, and he screamed in pain. The Hunter slashed the blade across the back of Tane's left knee, severing ligaments and tendons before grinding against bone. Tane fell to his knees, screaming as more iron flooded his veins.
The Hunter scrambled to his feet. His shoulder throbbed; had he broken it?
"Hurts like a mule kick in the berries, doesn't it?" he asked, his voice mocking.
Tane fought to retain his grip on the huge staff, using it as a support to hold his body upright. The veins in his forearms had blackened, crawling up his arms like horrible spiders. His thick fingers had puffed up, and the effort of clutching the staff left his hands shaking.
The Hunter lashed out with a flurry of savage kicks, shattering Tane's wrists. He completed his brutal assault with a spinning heel kick that splayed the Third's nose across his face.
"Time to end this, you bastard!" the Hunter shouted. He raised his uninjured arm, the Swordsman's long iron blade held high for the kill.
"No!" cried Tane, real fear flashing through his eyes.
The Hunter drove the blade deep into Tane's gut, slicing through thick muscle and skin. Blood gushed over the Hunter's hand as he buried the dagger to the hilt. Tane's eyes widened in terror, and he screamed—a horrible, inhuman sound—as the iron spread through his body. Tane writhed on the floor, his huge fingers curling around the iron blade in his guts.
The Hunter released the worn leather grip of the dagger, watching Tane flop limply. Satisfaction flooded him at the stench of Tane's loosening bowels. He watched with pitiless eyes as Tane's movement stilled, until the massive chest no longer rose and fell.
It is done, he thought, stooping to retrieve Soulhunger still tucked in the massive man's belt. A mixture of relief and satisfaction flooded him as his fingers closed around the hilt of his dagger. The demon is dead. Only one left.
Tane's eyelids snapped open, fire blazing in the empty blackness of his eyes as he bared his teeth in a wordless snarl. His huge hand shot out and thick fingers closed in a vise-grip around the Hunter's wrist.
The Hunter felt himself pulled forward, and before he could react, Tane kicked his chest with a heavy boot, propelling him through the air. The Hunter slammed against the hard stone wall of the tunnel, the impact knocking the breath from his lungs.
Gasping, he climbed to his feet, staring numbly in open-mouthed horror at the figure before him. Tane's face convulsed, his teeth gritted tight against the pain. His fingers closed around the iron blade embedded in his stomach, and with a superhuman effort, pulled it free.
"But…" the Hunter stammered, at a loss for words, "the iron…"
"Hurt like nothing you've ever felt," the Third said, clasping his hand to his stomach in an attempt to stop the bleeding. A spasm shook his huge frame, and there was pain in the big man's voice. "But when you spend an eternity being tormented in the deepest recesses of a nameless hell, you develop a certain tolerance for pain."
The Hunter's mind raced. The priests said to use two iron blades, but it seems to just slow him down. I need a more permanent solution.
His eyes fell on Soulhunger, still tucked in the Third's belt. The blood leaking from Tane's gut stained the blade, and the dagger cried its pleasure.
Tane followed the Hunter's gaze, and a slow smile spread across his face. "Thanal Eth' Athaur." He drew it, his huge hands dwarfing its long blade. "A truly blessed weapon you wield, Hunter, one you have proven you do not deserve."
Tane stalked forward, his movements slower and more precise. He advanced on the Hunter, who, in a flash of panic, realized he only held one of the Swordsman's iron blades. The other lay discarded on the cave floor, still stained with Tane's blood.
Damn, he cursed. I can't face him with just this.
He searched the cave, and a surge of hope raced through him as his eyes fell on his sword belt.
There!
He sprinted toward the sword as fast as his aching body would carry him. The sound of Tane's booted feet rang out behind him, but the Hunter ignored the fear coursing through him. His fingers closed around its hilt and, without hesitation, he yanked the sword free of its sheath. He spun just in time to block a vicious thrust that would have buried Soulhunger deep in his gut. The attack left him off balance, forcing him to backpedal as the huge Third attacked.
The Hunter fought to keep his distance from Tane, to avoid the wicked edge of his own blade. Tane lunged forward—too fast for the Hunter to block. Somehow, the Hunter managed to twist out of the way of the attack, though Tane's elbow slammed into his ribs. He scraped the Swordsman's blade across Tane's forearm, hard enough to lay it open to the bone. The Hunter slammed his knee into the big man's gut, once, twice, three times. The pain must have been overwhelming, but still Tane refused to yield. The big man clutched Soulhunger in fingers the Hunter knew were growing weaker with every second.
The Hunter kicked out, his boot connecting with Tane's hand. Bones crunched. Soulhunger spun from the big man's grip. Tane screamed and clutched his mangled fingers to his chest. Blood still leaked from the wound in his gut, slowing him down as he tried to grasp at his opponent. The Hunter leapt backward, and, turning, sprinted toward Soulhunger. He reached down to grasp the fallen blade, but something struck him hard in the back of the head.
Darkness filled his vision for a heartbeat, and the world around him spun. When he finally opened his eyes, he found himself lying on the floor. Crimson leaked from the back of his head, and his face ached from the impact with stone. Soulhunger was only a few paces away, just out of the Hunter's reach. Beside the blade lay a rock stained red with his blood.
If I can just—
Even as he tried to stand, a huge hand clamped down on the back of his neck. With a snarl, Tane lifted the Hunter and held him as he would a doll.
"You cannot win."
A blow to the Hunter's stomach folded him over, gasping for breath and fighting the urge to vomit. He struck out at Tane with his sword, but the big man's fingers closed around his wrist. Tane squeezed hard, snapping bones like twigs. The Hunter screamed. With disdain, Tane threw him to the floor.
"You see, Hunter," Tane said, his laughter echoing loud in the cavern as he stared down at the Hunter gagging and struggling to breathe. "You may be a Bucelarii, but I am Abiarazi. I may wear human flesh, but I am more than strong enough to rip you apart, even in my current state." His right hand gestured to his limp left arm. "Damage my flesh all you want, but you will find it harder to kill my true form."
Even as he exulted, pain flashed across Tane's face. He clutched at his gut, holding his injured forearm close to his chest. Iron still spread through his veins, and the flesh of Tane's arm had begun to blacken and fester.
"I may take time to heal," the Third said, noticing his gaze, "but I will have time aplenty once you're out of the way. There will be no one to stop us, and Voramis will be ours once again. I will rebuild the Bloody Hand to be stronger and better than it ever was!"
"Even after your cowardly master has deserted you here?"
"Master?" the Third snarled. "That urrzad b'th calls himself my master, and it suits my purpose to allow him to do so. However, by the end of this night, I will have proven which of us is worthy to rule this filthy planet."
"By the end of this night," the Hunter growled in response, "you and your fellow demon will be sent back to the hells from which you came."
"Even if you stop us," Tane shouted, "we will never stop trying. You have no idea how many of us walk this world, Hunter. We may look mortal, but we are far more powerful than even you could imagine. We are legion, and we will rule the world. You'll never destroy us all!"
With effort, the Hunter climbed to his feet, cradling his shattered left hand. "I'll settle with putting an end to you tonight. You, and that creature you call the First."
"You realize what you're doing, Hunter?" Tane asked. "You understand that you are killing the only things on Einan just like you? By killing us, you ensure that you will be forever alone in this world."
"We do what we must," the Hunter said with a careless shrug. "Your time has passed, Demon. This world belongs to humankind now. Even if it means I am the only one of my kind left, I will stop you Abiarazi from returning."
He dove forward and threw himself into a roll. His right hand closed around Soulhunger's grip, and though he gasped when his shoulder collided with the stone floor, he managed to find his feet. He thrust the blade forward, intending to drive it deep into Tane's gut.
Tane's foot slammed into his face, snapping his head back and lifting him from his feet. Pain exploded through him. His mouth filled with the coppery taste of the blood gushing from his broken nose. He fel
l backward, his head ringing, unable to stand from the dizziness washing over him.
"You fool," snarled Tane. The big man towered over him, his eyes devoid of all pity as he stared down at the Hunter. "You never know when to quit."
Tane stamped down hard. His massive foot shattered the Hunter's right leg. Crying out, the Hunter tried to crawl away, but an immense weight pressed his left leg to the floor. Tears streamed down his face, and he could do nothing but lie helpless, screaming, as Tane slowly applied pressure to the bone until it too snapped with a loud crack.
"We need you alive, and that is the only reason I do not kill you right here and now. It is over, Hunter." Tane's breath was hot and vile as he leaned close and wrapped his fingers, still slick with his own blood, around the Hunter's throat.
The Hunter's lungs burned, his head pounded, and blazing heat raced through his legs. He tried to speak, but the blood filling his mouth turned his words to a mumble.
"What's that?" Tane asked, trying to make sense of the words. "Did you say—?"
The Hunter retorted with a wordless snarl, spitting crimson into Tane's face. Tane flinched, and his grip on the Hunter's throat weakened for a heartbeat. Even as the Hunter filled his lungs with air, his right hand closed around Soulhunger's hilt. In desperation, he struck out blindly at the huge man towering over him.
The blade sliced through windpipe and vocal cords, driving deep into his neck. The big man's mouth opened and closed soundlessly as he fought to breathe, to speak. Only a horrible bubbling sound emerged.
Blood dripped down Tane's massive chest and washed over the Hunter. Tane released his death grip on the Hunter's throat. He tried to claw at the blade embedded in his neck, to break the Hunter's hold on it. His legs wobbled and sagged. His struggles grew weaker, but still the stubborn demon fought.
As Tane fell to the floor, the Hunter collapsed atop him. The pain of his shattered legs washed over him, nearly stealing his consciousness. He fought back the pain, refused to give in to it. He had one thought.
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