Demon Stone (Ascendancy Legacy 4)

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Demon Stone (Ascendancy Legacy 4) Page 4

by Bradford Bates


  Clutching my stomach, I headed for the door. I was five steps away when the archfiend appeared in front of me. Ryan’s laughter filled the room. I fell to my knees in defeat. The sword clattered to the ground beside me. None of this had been real. I was never going to be able to leave. He stepped forward and touched my forehead, healing me instantly. The room around us wavered for a second and then came back into focus.

  “Oh, you do put on a good show. Tell me, how did it feel to kill your friends?”

  “Fuck you, you bastard. I didn’t kill them.”

  “Tisk, tisk. Language, Nitro,” he said, wiggling a finger in front of my face. “What if there were children present? And are you so sure that you didn’t kill them? Take a closer look.”

  He dragged one of the bodies forward and dumped it at my feet. Thomas’s dead eyes looked up into my own. Thomas’s body twitched as the fiend ran a finger down his cheek. The body stayed limp but the voice issued from it couldn’t have been from anyone else. “Why’d you kill me, Nitro? I thought we were friends.”

  I screamed then, rising from the floor and trying to run. The demon’s power locked me back into place. Everything about being here was so screwed up. I wouldn’t be able to hold out much longer. The archfiend kept his greasy smile in place and laid a hand on me again. I was back in the chair in the basement. Laughter bubbled from my lips now. I didn’t know what was real anymore. Next time I got the chance, I would have to kill myself. It was the only way out.

  CHAPTER 5

  SIR ROLAND’S REDEMPTION

  Over the last three weeks, Bristow had become more than serviceable with his blade. Sir Roland thought that he might be able to beat all of the knights in training and maybe even a few of his brethren. He still got the best of him nine times out of ten, but each match was only growing closer. It filled him with confidence knowing that he had a capable man at his back.

  The journey had taken longer than he thought. They had abandoned the main road earlier than he expected due to enemy patrols. That forced them to work their way through the dense brush of the forest. Only one patrol stumbled across them, and all of the demons had been dispatched in short order. Within the day, they expected to cross fully into enemy territory, and from there, it would be another day to the gate.

  Their fate rested in the hands of God now. Only He would be able to deliver them to the portal alive. If they died after the portal closed, then they would die as martyrs for humanity. Sir Roland rolled his neck, and as it cracked, the dark thoughts almost seemed to vanish. Of course, he would prefer to live, to come back to his brothers as a hero. Maybe then he could finally put the past behind him.

  They rested their mounts throughout the day, often only walking them. The horses would need to be fresh for the final push through the enemy lines. They might not rest again until they reached their target. He looked over at the boy, and thoughts of Sir Aldin came to mind. He had obviously known that the boy was ready for more than his apprenticeship, and yet he hadn’t allowed him to train as a knight.

  He wondered if Sir Aldin was still alive. Three weeks was a long time to hold the castle against the crushing press of the demon spawn. Were any of his brothers still alive? Would they be returning to an empty castle? The thought unsettled him so much, he almost missed Bristow’s hasty whisper.

  “Sir Roland, there is something ahead of us.”

  Scanning the field ahead with his magic, he had to concur with the boy. How had he missed it? Spending too much time dwelling on the past and wondering about what the future might have in store for him upon his glorious return, no doubt. He held up a hand, signaling for Bristow to stop. Jumping off of his horse, he tossed the reins to the boy and moved silently forward.

  There was a small camp in the clearing up ahead. Five men sat around a smoldering fire, chatting as if nothing were amiss. He could feel the putrid stench of their souls from here. The demon-ridden were nothing but meat shells. Sir Roland cast a quick spell to disguise his appearance, and pulled his sword free. This would be an easy task. Ridding the world of five more demons would only make it a safer place.

  Sir Roland crept forward, keeping one of their shabby lean-tos between him and his targets. Crouching behind the structure, he listened to them speak, waiting for the right time to make his move.

  “I hate being stuck back here. We should be in the front where all of the action is.”

  “It ain’t that bad, Shugath. We have food and water. Plus, none of us are going to die back here.”

  “Yeah, but some of us men have other needs, Gaegon. Not all of us can make do with only our own hand for squeezing.”

  “I offered to let you use mine, if you remember.”

  “Shut it, you two. This ain’t no social trip. We have a job to do. Since you two seem so interested in each other, maybe you should go on patrol together.”

  “Fuck off, Lenny,” said Shugath.

  “You ain’t the boss of us,” added Gaegon.

  “What I am is the one who will crack your two melons together if you don’t get your lazy asses moving.”

  “Fine, but there better be some of that stew left for when we get back,” snarled Shugath.

  “Then you should hurry,” sneered Lenny.

  Sir Roland stayed crouched behind the tent. He was torn on which course of action to take. Should he loop back around and kill the two heading toward Bristow, or try and dispatch the three here before pursuing them? Bristow had proven himself nightly in training, but being in a real fight was different. You couldn’t leave an enemy behind you, so he had to make this quick.

  He slid his sword cleanly through the first demon’s throat. He watched, almost laughing as the two men sitting across from his initial victim's eyes widened. It must have looked as if the sword had come out of nowhere. They were starting to get over their initial shock, and they started reaching for their weapons. Sir Roland took the arm off of the closest man to him. Then he hit him on the side of the head with the pommel of his sword, silencing his screams.

  The next demon had time to get his sword out of its sheath, but by his lazy stance, Sir Roland already knew he wasn’t well-trained. He moved forward, leaving his body open to an attack. The demon struck just as he had expected. The opening he provided was too good of an opportunity not to strike. Sir Roland knocked the blade of the demon’s sword aside before stepping around the demon and hitting it with the flat of his blade. The force of the blow on the demons back sent it stumbling forward. Sir Roland helped the demon along with a kick to his posterior. The demon fell flat on its face, swearing loudly the entire time. It turned, and Sir Roland knocked the blade from its hand and plunged his sword through the demon’s heart.

  A scream from the forest caught his attention. Damn, the demons had moved quicker than he thought. That scream could have only come from one person. He set off running, crashing through the brush, not caring if the demons heard him coming. He only needed to get there before something horrible happened.

  He burst into the clearing, and neither of the demons noticed. One of them was holding Bristow on the ground, and the other was working to pull off his pants. Sir Roland moved forward slowly, hoping to kill at least one of them before they noticed his presence.

  “You were right, Gaegon. We don’t have to go to the front lines to get a little entertainment. This little piece of sweet meat fell right into our laps.”

  “Just be quick about it. I’d like a turn before we have to go back. You know if we take too long Lenny will be angry.”

  “For this kind of a prize, I’d be willing to go a few rounds with that asshole.”

  “I see what you did there,” he said, hideous laughter bubbling from his lips.

  “Shut up and help me get his pants off.”

  The one called Gaegon must have felt his presence at the last second, because he managed to get his sword up in time to block Sir Roland’s strike. Sir Roland lashed out again, pressing the man, still trying to end this quickly. The other demon hit B
ristow on the head, and he heard the boy moan. He was going to pay for that.

  The two demons fought well together. It was all he could do to keep their swords at bay. He needed to bring one of them down quickly, or else he was going to die, and Bristow would be subjected to a fate worse than death. He tried to press forward, but the demons pushed him back. It was a battle of stamina now. One that he was sure that he would lose.

  Sir Roland was about to do something drastic when a sword ripped through Shugath’s chest from behind. He heard Bristow screaming as he ripped the blade free. The demon fell to his knees, and the boy brought his sword down on his skull. Then he kicked the body free and spat on it before turning toward the other demon.

  Gaegon was just as distracted by the sudden attack as Sir Roland was, but not as quick to recover. Roland brought him down with three swings. The demon was wounded and trying to crawl away. “Bristow, would you care to do the honors?”

  The boy strode forward, his steps heavy like an executioner’s. His face had gone slack; there was no empathy to be found there. He stabbed through the demon’s back several times before bringing his sword down on his skull. He wiped his blade on the demon’s tunic before sheathing it.

  “Well done, lad. Two kills, not bad for your first battle.”

  His face turned red, and he started to stammer. “If you hadn’t come . . .” He paused and started to sob. “They were going to . . .”

  Sir Roland rushed forward and wrapped his arms around him. “That would have never happened on my watch.” He held the boy until his sobs subsided, and then pushed him back. Bristow looked up at him with red eyes, wiping the tears away. “Are you still willing to accompany me? It will only get harder from here.”

  “I am ready, Sir Roland.”

  “Good, fetch those damn horses. We have a portal to close.”

  Bristow ran off in search of the horses, and Sir Roland watched him go. The boy had courage; he had to give him that. He had bounced back already and was willing to continue their journey. He would see him knighted on their return.

  Over the course of the next day, they cleared out three more camps. Each time, they used Bristow as a distraction. It seemed that his young innocence was something that they couldn’t ignore. Each camp they passed, the demons became less and less human looking.

  They were sitting outside of their fourth camp and hopefully their last before closing in on the portal. The demons no longer resembled humans at all. They still had two legs and two arms, for the most part, but now they also had tails, and a few of them had wings. If you found a way to look past the tail, then you couldn’t miss their heads. If anything, they more closely resembled those of a serpent or a lizard. They had teeth that would be as dangerous as any blade.

  This time, they wouldn’t be using any bait. They would have to strike together to bring down the enemy. Sir Roland motioned for Bristow to head to the right while he went left. “Attack on my signal.”

  Bristow started to circle around the camp to the right. After his third step, he realized he had no idea what the signal was. Turning back toward Sir Roland to get confirmation, he silently swore. Sir Roland was already gone. He would just have to wait for Sir Roland to attack before joining the fray. He crept into position with his sword drawn. His knees were tense and ready to spring at the first sound of conflict. He didn’t have to wait long; at the sound of metal on metal, he jumped into action.

  His sword found its way into the first demon’s throat; he kicked the body away and stood waiting for his next opponent. Three demons rose from their places around the campfire. One with a serpent's head actually hissed at him. For the first time, it dawned on Bristow that he had made a mistake. One of the men by the fire was holding a pot and a rather large metal spoon. He must have heard the spoon scraping instead of Sir Roland’s attack.

  The demon holding the pot dropped it to the ground and picked up his blade. The four of them started moving toward Bristow. It took every ounce of courage he had not to run as the demons bore down on him. He lifted his sword and managed to deflect the first two attacks. As the third blow was about to land, the demon flew to the side.

  Sir Roland had thrown himself into the demon. As he tried to right himself, he took a blow to his arm. His sword fell uselessly to the ground. Bristow’s first thought was to defend his new master, but he couldn’t let the opportunity he created go to waste. He lashed out at the demon on the ground; ensuring that it wouldn’t be a threat. He turned back toward Sir Roland in time to see him wrestling with one of the demons on the ground. He was reaching for his blade but couldn’t seem to reach it.

  The other two demons ignored the knight and rushed toward Bristow. He managed to dodge in and out of their strikes until he found an opening on one of their ankles. The demon went howling to the floor as his blade clipped through the tendon. He managed to dodge the other demon’s swing, but fell to the ground as the injured demon reached a hand out and grabbed his ankle.

  In a pure panic, Bristow slammed his blade down in the direction he thought the injured demon was in. He was rewarded when his blade bit deep into the demon, and it let out an inhuman scream. He looked up in time to see a blade slicing down toward him. He abandoned his sword and rolled to the side.

  Bristow found his feet and pulled his knife from his belt. The demon smiled at him and rushed forward. He dodged the blade as it came down, and stepped in close to the demon, tackling him to the ground. He slammed the knife into the demon’s side just as its jaws clamped down on his shoulder. A scream rushed out of his lungs before he could cut it off. He stabbed at the demon again and again until the jaws clamped on his shoulder released. He stood up slowly and wobbled for a moment before falling back to the ground.

  Sir Roland rushed forward covered in gore. Bristow looked to be ok, minus the wound on his shoulder. There was no way to tell if the demon’s bite was poisonous or not. He slipped his knife from his belt and placed it into the coals of the fire. This was going to hurt the boy, but at least he would have a story to tell.

  Sir Roland took Bristow’s knife and put it into the fire as well. He then emptied his water flask out onto the boy’s wound. It was as clean as it was going to get. He handed the boy a stick wrapped in cloth. “Bite down on this.”

  Bristow did what he was told, but Roland could see the fear in the boy’s eyes. He pulled the first knife from the coals and went to work. He seared two of the wounds closed before switching out the blades. He repeated the task even after Bristow passed out from the pain. When all ten wounds were sealed, he poured more water over them and then covered them with a clean bit of cloth.

  He left the boy passed out on the ground as he went back for the horses. When he returned, he was surprised to see Bristow on his feet. He had reclaimed his sword and cleaned it. He had also scavenged a few of the demons’ weapons. Something in him had grown in their time together. Roland felt a sense of pride seeing the boy come into his own.

  “Was this what Sir Aldin felt when he mentored me?” he mumbled to himself while he walked into the clearing. “Can you ride, Bristow?”

  “I will stay with you until the end, Sir Roland.”

  “We are almost there now. I can feel the pull of the portal from here. The stone is growing warm to the touch. When we get there, you must protect me at all costs until the portal is closed.”

  “You have my word.”

  Sir Roland tossed him the reins to his horse, and then they were riding on the final leg of their journey.

  CHAPTER 6

  JACKSON

  Henry burst into Adam’s office. “We have a problem.”

  “Spit it out, Henry,” Adam said, setting down the book he had been reading to me.

  “Nitro’s team reported in that he was taken.”

  “Taken? How is that possible? They were just sent on a routine portal closing.”

  “I’m not sure, Adam. The only witness was the newest member of their team, and he is shaken up pretty badly. He said somethin
g about Nitro telling him to get everyone out and then the door closed. He thought it was some kind of prank, but when he opened the door again, Nitro was gone.”

  “So he got everyone out. Have we sent another team in to investigate yet?”

  “No, that’s why I’m here.”

  Adam sat back, and I could tell he was deep in thought. If one of our own had been taken, that was a serious assault on the Ascendancy. We would need to respond with force. If there was any chance that Nitro was still alive, we needed to act quickly. I watched Adam ponder which units to recall from the field to handle this for him. Nothing he was thinking about seemed to make him very happy.

  “Adam, send me. We can get to the bottom of this and get Nitro back.”

  Adam leaned forward in his chair, his eyes seeming to pierce my very soul. “If I had any other choice, I wouldn’t risk it, but it makes the most sense.”

  “I’ll tell April and Marcus to get ready.”

  “I want you to take Britta as well.”

  God, that was the last thing I wanted to do. Besides the fact that we had just gone through a breakup, recently we had found out that she had been reporting our business to the Council. The last person I wanted on my team was someone I couldn’t trust. In a situation like this, you needed to know that everyone on your team was looking out for you. I didn’t get that with Britta.

  Adam must have grown tired of waiting for an answer. “I insist,” he said. “Also, remember what I asked you to do. Keep her close; we may need her.”

  That was the other thing. If I kept her close and used her to find out information about Stillman and the Council, was I really any better than her? I couldn’t just say one thing and do another. If I wanted to be a true leader, then I had to walk the talk, and that meant being honest with myself. I didn’t want to spy on her, but I also didn’t want to let Adam down.

 

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