by Tom Lloyd
‘A Terim,’ he whispered to himself as musket and pistol shots split the night. ‘Merciful Gods, how is any one summoner strong enough to bring a greater demon into the world?’
Some of the bullets struck the Banshee – Enchei saw the impact on her clothing, at least – but they had no effect. The Apkai claimed the dark crown of greatest of demons, the most long-lived and powerful of all those outside of the ocean’s depths, but the varied Terim were just as unassailably powerful by human standards.
She swept her arm forward towards the soldiers and Enchei reeled under another stuttered after-image of darkness. Behind the building there was a crash of timbers and a burst of sparks rising high in the sky. As Enchei found his balance again he found himself watching a figure charge for the Banshee and his mouth fell open. The nobleman, guns spent and discarded, ran as though into a gale and Enchei could only marvel at his crazed bravery.
Out of his sight Enchei heard piteous wails; the enfeebled cries of the broken and the high, frantic shrieks of a man watching his life’s blood run out. He found himself frozen to the spot, unable to tear his eyes away as the nobleman fought through an unseen storm – great two-handed sword drawn and ready to strike – but it was taking all his strength just to come within cutting distance of the Banshee.
Just as he neared her, the Banshee stirred herself to action, moving as though she was just a marionette of her demonic possessor, reaching out with a splayed palm. Enchei was ready for that shudder of darkness and just about managed to keep his eyes open, his knees steady, as a shadow-claw the size of a cutlass tore down through the man’s body, bursting through him from shoulder to hip. The pieces of nobleman spilled to the ground and if there were any of the soldiers left alive by the bonfire, they had fled by the time their leader was dead.
Enchei gasped, but old instincts kicked in – old memories of a winter far worse than this one, of other dead things walking and horrors worse than this, conjured by the dreams of a slowly-waking god.
It’ll tear the district apart. That damn summoner’s unleashed it on the Dragons like some monstrous revenge.
He stepped out from the lee of the house and levelled both his weapons. Tiny flashes of starlight raced across the street as a half-dozen darts tore into the Banshee’s flesh. The demon was slow to react, though, and it was only when he levelled the baton at her that it lurched around to face him. The night air twisted and roiled as he activated it, another stutter of darkness but this time the shadow-form of the demon was briefly diminished wherever the distortion seemed to touch it.
Enchei had a better look at the Banshee’s face now. Her features were contorted under the pressure inside her, the monstrous creature too vast to inhabit the mind of one mortal. Already blood trailed from her eyes and nose, but it only added to the horror of her presence. Enchei realised the Terim would have more than enough time to kill him before its vessel failed.
Slowly the Banshee began to raise an arm, the movements awkward and jerky, but it was enough for Enchei. He didn’t stay to fight, merely turned on his heel and fled as fast as he could. Showing an Astaren’s weapons to the demon should prove enough for it to pursue him rather than rip the district apart, but there was something of a downside to that.
From behind him there came crashes and a great bellow of rage as the demon took his challenge and began its hunt. The beams of the building he’d crouched beside splintered and shattered under its touch, roof tiles falling like brittle rain.
Oh hells, I blame Narin, Enchei thought madly as he ran as fast as he could back the way he’d come. I was never this stupid before we became friends. Enay, Maiss – I hope you’re on your toes, otherwise we’re all dead!
‘What are you doing here?’ Enay demanded, keeping her gun levelled at the woman who’d walked up behind them.
Narin whirled around to see Myken standing there, musket resting loosely in her hands. Dressed in the dull grey and brown of her new mercenary garb, a grey veil loose over her nose and mouth, Myken’s eyes and the polished brass of her guns stood out all the more in the darkness.
‘My Lady instructed me to,’ Myken said coolly, gaze fixed on the pistol until it was sheathed again.
‘She’s alone?’ Narin scowled and made to return but Myken stopped him with two fingers touched to his shoulder.
‘It is her instruction. The threat to her is done with – if any remains, they will not get inside the house past Enchei’s traps. Her concern is for your safety now.’
‘Mine? What about the rest of them?’ Narin said, gesturing at his companions.
‘They’re either more skilled at arms or less adept at getting into trouble. You’re the one who needs watching over.’
Narin scowled while out of the corner of his eye he could see Kesh grinning. ‘She said that?’
‘She expressed concern for your safety, I extrapolated the reasons.’
‘Woman’s got a point,’ Kesh whispered. He continued to ignore her.
‘Fine, I guess—’
‘Quiet,’ Enay snapped suddenly, ‘what’s that?’
‘Feet – running,’ Maiss replied, though Narin could hear nothing. ‘And some sort of demon-cry?’
‘Running this way,’ Enay added. She looked left and right. ‘Kesh, Narin, fall back. Irato and Myken, take cover there.’
Narin watched the former goshe and Wyvern move without a word, but it took Kesh yanking on his arm to spur him into movement. Maiss peeled away to a large brick well with a stylised sun canopy while Enay headed the other way and settled into the lee of a water butt. The winter weather had split its timbers and a sliver of ice shone out of its belly, a moment of death preserved until the thaw came. As they retreated to cover, Kesh and Narin watched Enay free Enchei’s plundered Astaren weapon from its sack and ready it to scorch the night.
Narin felt an ache in his gut as he saw the Stone Dragon’s lance again. That very one had almost seared the flesh from his bones before he’d taken another beating from Synter, commander of the goshe’s secret elite. He was in no hurry to see the Dragon’s Breath employed again, even if it was by an ally this time.
‘What’s going on?’ he muttered, drawing his sword but feeling foolish as he did so.
The sword only emphasised the paucity of weapons permitted to a man of his caste, even if Myken’s guns were feeble compared to the lance, but he still felt better for something in his hand.
‘Shush,’ Kesh chided, pulling out her long-knife and hatchet as she settled into a crouch behind a low wall, ready to attack or flee.
Narin looked down at the sword. The Lawbringers used straight broadswords with a single edge and short point. The over-long handle meant it handled in a not-dissimilar way to the staves Investigators trained with, ensuring those promoted adapted quickly to the weapon. The sword Enay and Maiss had found for him was more traditional, but Rhe had been teaching him classical sword-craft for six months now and it felt familiar in his hand.
The only detail Narin was unsure about was the cloth and wires of the spark-pad Enchei had rigged around the sword’s guard. Gingerly he took a proper grip of the weapon so his index finger and thumb pressed into the cloth. A crackle of light immediately danced down the edge of the sword, but his fingers registered only a faint tug.
‘Enchei,’ Kesh breathed, nudging Narin.
He looked up to see a dark, faceless figure racing towards them. For a moment he didn’t recognise the veteran in his armour. It was only once Enchei shouted, ‘A Terim!’ at his daughter that Narin was sure.
‘What’s that?’
‘Whatever it is, he’s running from it,’ Kesh said, the nerves evident in her voice.
Narin felt his skin grow colder. ‘Gods above.’
Up ahead, Enchei sprinted to his daughter’s side with a speed that belied his age and skidded to a halt. It appeared Enay had understood what he’d shouted because she didn’t even look at her father, just hefted the pale, stubby lance and braced herself.
The explanatio
n came soon enough, surging around the corner on boiling wings of shadow. A great mass of something huge yet insubstantial, bearing on its wave a figure clad in white and red which it then deposited in the centre of the street. The air stuttered and flickered around it – her, Narin realised a second before recognising her clothes. It was the Banshee he’d seen at the Palace of Law, the one who’d brought them news of the summoner.
‘In case we hadn’t found them,’ he muttered, ‘or kept the news from the Dragons.’
Looking at her now he recognised something of the black aura around her, having seen Irato possessed by fox-spirits half a dozen times or more. Different to be sure, but a charged air of power surrounded both. The greatest difference was that this woman looked like an animated corpse hung on strings, rather than more alive and vital as Irato was. From what Enchei had said of the hellhound-possessed men he’d found, this was an order of magnitude greater; perhaps the demon did not so much need her body to use as serve as a conduit.
The Banshee stood watching Enay and Enchei for a moment, arms hanging limp at her side before she began to jerkily raise one. A musket shot immediately rang out around the street and her head twitched back under the impact. Narin turned and saw a small cloud of smoke in front of Myken while the woman calmly went about reloading.
Maiss fired in the next moment from the other direction, one pistol then the other. They had less impact than the musket but it was enough to distract the demon-possessed woman. Enchei followed up with both his weapons, the strange distorted stream of air buffeting the Banshee back before Enay unleashed her own horror. The Dragon’s Breath gouged a hole through the misty air and then struck with the force of a hammer. The Banshee was rocked back as she exploded into flames, but it wasn’t enough to stop her.
Narin gasped as the woman took a step forward, silent despite being entirely engulfed by fire, and reached out. Enay and Enchei threw themselves aside as jagged whips of darkness seemed to lash the ground where they had stood and tore furrows in it. Enay rolled and fired a second time before ducking round a corner to avoid another blow. The roof of the building shattered under the impact. Even as he shrank lower behind the wall, Narin saw lines carved through tiles and timbers alike, as though gigantic claws were ripping through them.
The fires engulfing the Banshee raged furiously now and her next step forward was awkward, but the light of the flames seemed to cast her demon shadow with renewed strength. Narin could see great wings raised up in the sky, a broad animal’s body and a horned head above the burning woman’s. Before anyone could attack again, however, there came a shuddering, deep roar that seemed to rise from the very stones beneath Narin’s feet. He looked around in confusion as the earth began to shake and the whistle of wind eclipsed the crackle of flames.
‘Oh seven hells!’ Kesh gasped.
Narin realised the sound was coming from the well where Maiss was sheltered just in time to see a mass of twisting white lines erupt from the well mouth. Maiss fell back in shock, scrabbling away while a column of unfolding light blossomed above the well – moving too quickly for Narin to make any sense of the shapes being formed and reformed.
‘What is it?’
‘The Apkai,’ Kesh replied, gaze fixed on the strange writhing mass of light. ‘Don’t you remember? Out on the sea when Lord Shield tried to claim the goshe’s artefact?’
‘Gods, yes – but what’s it doing here?’
With a sudden whip-crack speed his question was answered. The light flew across the street towards Myken and Irato like the wrath of Gods. Before Narin could say anything more, the former goshe was surrounded, barely able to make any move to defend himself before being hauled bodily into the air. The light then contracted and drove inside Irato – forcing itself into his eyes and mouth until only a writhing corona remained. Held five feet off the ground, Irato went rigid, limbs outstretched and head tilted up in a voiceless shriek.
Gods – of course it would take him. The goshe’s poison washed away his memories, most of who he is, to make space for the god they were trying to create. He’ll be the perfect tool for a demon like the Apkai, especially as he’s already been used as a vessel by the fox-spirits.
A moment later the goshe was lowered almost to the ground again and Narin saw the demon’s light shining from his eyes and mouth, feeding an angry swirl that now wrapped around his entire body. Unnoticed at his feet, Myken scrambled up from the ground having fallen in her fear and wonder, barely retreating in time before the shadow-demon attacked.
Great claws of darkness crashed down on Irato’s head. Where they missed and struck the ground, cobbles burst and the ground was torn, but as they hit him they exploded in an eye-watering burst of light. The Apkai and Irato both seemed unscathed and a roar of rage rang out across the street as the demon attacked again. It drove forward, the burning Banshee staggering along at its heart. Narin could just make out the shape of the demon – a Terim, a distant voice noted – surrounding her, raging and slashing at Irato.
Every blow caused another flourish of blinding sparks, but the Apkai weathered the assault without a backward step. After a dozen heartbeats or more, it finally seemed to gain full control of Irato and looked down to face its enemy. Irato leaped forward at the Terim, thrusting spears of spitting light into the demon’s shadow-body. The Terim howled at this retaliation and struck back but Irato dodged and struck a second and third time. Each blow punctured the Terim’s body and ripped away chunks of shadow until finally Irato jumped high over its claws and stabbed down at the Banshee’s face. The spear punched right through the flaming mass of her head and something seemed to give inside her.
All at once the shadow-form of the demon folded in on itself with a crack of thunder and vanished from view. Only the charred corpse of the Banshee remained to crumple dead to the ground. Narin gaped as Irato, still shining with unnatural light, regarded the body a moment longer then turned to face them.
For a moment no one moved. Almost reluctantly, Enchei hauled himself up from where he’d taken cover and pointedly motioned for Enay to set the Stone Dragon’s lance on the ground. That done, he approached the Apkai-possessed man and knelt before him. He didn’t speak and while he didn’t glance around him, first his daughters then Myken did the same. Narin and Kesh were the last, Narin feeling some faint pang of guilt in his heart, though he had never been too devoted a servant of the Gods.
‘Fools declare war,’ the Apkai pronounced. ‘Gods end them.’
‘Great one,’ Enchei said, head bowed, ‘I thank you once more.’
‘The shadow-kin trespass and kill among my aligned. My patience is at an end.’
‘Kill?’ Narin said abruptly, taking a step forward. ‘Who are your aligned? Samaleen’s murdered priests? Or have they attacked the city’s demons too?’
Enchei turned and gave Narin a furious look while Irato’s light-filled eyes slowly turned to him.
‘You were once marked by the Ascendant, Shield,’ it intoned. ‘A young god’s regard means little to the ancient.’
While it spoke in a level tone, Narin heard the rebuke and faltered. Lord Shield had once marked him, it was true, but it was no divine blessing. If he angered the Apkai now, Shield would not care for his fate.
‘Great one,’ Kesh said, advancing past Narin and dropping to one knee. ‘We crave your indulgence once more.’
Narin and Enchei both frowned at her, but Kesh was not paying attention to either. Most likely she was remembering her own interaction with this god-like being, when she had frustrated the plans of both the Apkai and Lord Shield.
‘The bold one,’ it said at last, voice rolling over the street cobbles like distant thunder. ‘What demands have you now for immortals?’
‘No demands, great one,’ she said carefully. ‘I beg only that you do not allow your shadow-kin to provoke you.’
‘My kin? Your ignorance betrays, mortal who brings starlight.’
At that, Narin suspected he could see a faint flush in Kesh’s ch
eeks. Having tricked both a god and demon, she had faced them down with unashamed anger and grief. In honour of that, Lord Shield had promised to write her deceased sister’s name in the stars for one night every year. They were yet to see if the Ascendant God kept that promise, but if a demon-prince remembered surely a god would not renege on it?
‘She is ignorant but honest, great one,’ Enchei broke in. ‘There is a summoner in the city who hunts me – who has set hellhounds on my scent and killed without regard. But the Terim was not set on my trail. Until I attracted its attention it was here only to kill at random, I believe.’
‘Action without reason is a fool’s impulse. There is purpose here.’
‘The same reason why House Dragon’s Astaren were lured into a trap,’ Enchei replied. ‘To weaken Dragon’s hold on the city, to humiliate Lord Omtoray and show them as something other than unassailable. This demon was here to kill and destroy, to show the Dragons could not defend themselves.’
‘But your followers were also killed, great one,’ Kesh added. ‘Targeted, even. What if their goal is to not only show the Dragons as weak, but also an irrelevance? To have you openly fight Terim on the streets – to have the warriors of Dragon attack both hellhounds and fox-spirits and be attacked in turn. They want chaos, nothing more, and as they drag you in, great one, their goals are furthered.’
The Apkai did not speak. The cold white light shining from Irato’s eyes and mouth dimmed, as though its attention was elsewhere, before eventually it waxed strong again and raised Irato up off the ground once more.
‘You are all as children playing with vipers. How soon before the bite?’
‘Not yet,’ Enchei said, ‘not if there remain some of us to stop it.’