Instantly, Jez’s hands started weaving patterns in the air. He forced power into them, and a silver beam of light shot forward toward the nearest demon. It should have impaled the beast and sent it back to the abyss, but though the wards on the dungeon were concentrated in the prison cells, they didn’t stop at the bars, and they weakened any magic used in the prison. The light splashed against the demon’s chest, driving it back a few inches. The demon snarled, the fire in its eyes intensifying. It took a step toward Jez, and he started weaving the binding again, intending to pour even more power into it.
Before he could release, there was a flash of light from Osmund’s cell. When it faded, Osmund was gone. In his place was a winged creature even taller than Osmund himself. Though his wings didn’t move, he floated several inches above the ground. He wore scarlet robes that reminded Jez of blood. He had pale skin and eyes that burned even hotter than those of the demons. He closed his fist and a sword appeared in his hand, its blade shrouded in red flame. The same sword that had given Lina her scar.
Ziary took a step forward and slashed. The bars melted before his blow, and Jez was left with a streak of light in his vision. Ziary looked at the demons and his eyes brightened. He spread his wings, shedding a light almost too bright to look at. Jez had seen that light blister the skin of people Ziary perceived as evil, but the demons just roared. Two lunged at Ziary while the third ran at Jez.
If not for his training with the sword, Jez would’ve been cut down in the space of a few heartbeats. The demon slashed with its claws, but Jez jumped back. His hand fell to his belt, but Dusan’s sword wasn’t there. He cursed himself for leaving it in the room and instead, he wove a quick binding, pouring three times as much power as such a working would normally require. A sphere of darkness shot forward, splashing against the demon’s face. Its eyes went dark, and the creature let out a bellow that shook the room.
Jez danced several steps back as his fingers crafted the silver binding again. This time, he put everything he had into it. It crashed into the demon, making the air vibrate with silent thunder. The demon showed its teeth, jagged things that looked like dancing flames. It took a step forward, and for a moment, Jez thought it would kill him in spite of the binding, but as it took another step, its skin cracked. Scales flaked off revealing pure white light underneath. It tried to roar, but music drifted out of its open mouth. White lines that looked almost like tears appeared on its cheek. It looked at Jez and for a second, he wondered if it would speak, but instead, the light inside burst, enveloping the creature. When it faded, the demon was gone, and Jez fell to his knees, completely drained.
Ziary was holding his own against the demons. Every slash of the claws was met with burning blade, and their teeth never found his flesh, but the demons evaded most of his attacks outright and managed to deflect the rest on their claws. It looked more like a dance than a battle; all three combatants moved with a liquid grace far beyond what any human could achieve. Neither side could gain an advantage over the other. Jez tried to summon his power. Anything he could do, any distraction, even a temporary one, should allow Ziary to take out his foes, but pushing his binding through the prison wards had taken everything he had.
The demons struck from two different directions. Ziary caught one attack on his blade. Without even looking, he batted the other away by hitting the demon’s hand with his fist. He didn’t, however, see the kick that went into his side. There was a sound like cracking bone as the kick tore through cloth and flesh alike. He cried out as motes of orange light bled from the wound. A demon lunged at him, he tried to react but was too slow, and its teeth latched onto his shoulder. Ziary screamed.
Jez forced himself to his feet and leapt at the demon closest to him. He crashed into it with all the force of a butterfly running into a stone wall, and the demon reacted no more than the wall would have. Pain lanced down Jez’s arm. The demon looked down at him and showed Jez its teeth. It opened its mouth.
It was all the opening Ziary needed.
Heedless of the one clamped onto his shoulder, the scion lashed out with his sword, taking the head of the one going for Jez. It screamed, its body transmuting to fire before becoming a pillar of smoke that reeked so badly of sulfur that Jez gagged. The eyes of the one biting Osmund brightened as it tried to ram its claws into him, but with only one foe, Ziary turned his full attention on his attacker. He caught the demon’s arm by the wrist and drove his sword into the creature’s chest. The chezamut screamed before it too puffed out of existence. Ziary turned his burning eyes to Jez.
“Osmund?” Jez asked trying his best to keep his voice steady.
Ziary could be an unforgiving enemy, descended from those pharim tasked with destroying evil, and if he perceived the slightest wrong in Jez, he would attack without hesitation. Jez didn’t have the strength to stop him right now. Ziary nodded.
“He still hasn’t woken up from whatever working Marrowit put on him.” The voice speaking was Osmund’s, not the peculiar double voice of Ziary. “I’m still in control.”
“Maybe you should change back. It would probably be bad if anyone saw you free.”
Ziary nodded and his form seemed to melt away leaving Osmund in his place. The wounds he’d suffered in the fight were gone, though Jez noticed that he clutched the side where the demon had kicked him. Osmund looked at the remnants of the bars to his cell.
“How are we going to explain this?”
“We were attacked,” Jez said. “You defended yourself.”
“Assuming they believe us.”
Jez pointed to the ground. The imprint of clawed feet had been burned into the stone.
“That should be proof enough for anyone.”
CHAPTER 25
A full minute after the demons had been banished, the guards rushed into the dungeon. The first one, a man who looked like he enjoyed pastries a little too much, saw Osmund and cried out. Those behind him drew swords so quickly one almost dropped her weapon. Osmund smirked at them but made no threatening move. The captain opened another cell and gestured to Osmund. The boy was obviously trying not to laugh as he stepped inside. The guards started calming once he was safely put away, but that changed when Jez showed them the charred footprint in the stone.
“What could do that?”
“A demon being banished,” Jez said. “We were attacked.”
“You can’t be...”
The guard stopped when Jez narrowed his eyes. He took a step back, keeping his eyes locked on the footprint. He uttered a few terse words, and one of the other soldiers ran up the stairs to get a binder to confirm Jez’s story. Jez clasped Osmund’s hand and left the guards to their work. Apparently, the guard that went up ahead of him didn’t keep his mouth shut because everyone was talking about the demon footprint, though Jez supposed it was better to have it widely known so Varin or Lina couldn’t sweep it under the rug. He considered going straight to Haziel to bring his accusation against Lina, but he thought better of it. Varin had shown how easily he could manipulate a situation like that. Instead, he made his way to the top of the south tower to Villia’s workshop. He pulled the door open to find Villia on the other side reaching for the handle. She had a pack slung over her shoulder. The desk in the room behind her had been cleared and the rest of the room was empty. Even the floor had been wiped clean. He looked from her to the empty workshop.
“What are you doing?”
“I’m leaving.”
“I can see that. Why? I need your help.”
She tried to push past him, but he held his ground and gave her a hard stare. She shook her head.
“The kind of help you need, I can’t give.”
She waved her hand and faded from view. Footsteps came from behind him, and he turned to see her walking away. He reached for her, but realized his mistake and brought his arm to the side just in time to catch the invisible woman trying to walk past him. He pulled water from the air and doused her leaving an outline floating next to him.
&n
bsp; “Let me pass, boy,” she said. “You have no authority over me.”
“Please,” Jez said. “I don’t know how to deal with the king.”
The watery outline took a step back into the room. Jez followed, but before he could say anything, the room went dark. Stars appeared above them and swirled across the ceiling. The sun rose in the east, though it did nothing to banish the darkness. In the west, the full moon appeared and began its slow ascent through the illusionary sky. Spheres came into being and began circling him. Some had thin rings around them, and Jez had the impression that they were huge, larger than the entire world.
“The king?” Villia’s voice came from everywhere at once. Jez tried to reach for his power, but a barrier appeared cutting him off. “You would try to force me to help you with the king? To aid in your petty squabbles? Insolent child. You cannot begin to understand my concerns. I have done things you cannot comprehend.”
“Lina is summoning demons!”
“What is one more mortal summoning demons?”
“Mortal? Are you something else?”
“I will leave now. You will not interfere.”
Jez moved to where he remembered the door being. Pain blossomed in his chest, and he had to put a hand against a wall he couldn’t see to support himself. He used his power to claw at the barrier shielding him, but it might as well have been a mountain for all it reacted.
“How are you doing this?”
“You have no idea what I can do.”
One of the spheres passed through him, and he felt nothing.
They’re illusions.
“I have seen more than you can imagine.”
Pain filled him, but Jez forced himself to ignore it.
It’s all illusions.
He remembered his first illusion class. Master Kerag had said that a master illusionist could deceive all twelve senses. The five standard ones and the seven relating to the seven dominions.
Including protection.
The barrier was still there, but Jez reached for his power anyway. A being appeared in front of him, clothed in robes of violet light. Its face looked vaguely human, but it wore a hood that shrouded its features in shadows, all except for twin points of purple light. Bird-like wings emerged from its back, translucent and almost seeming to be made of shadows, though like the ceiling, stars moved across the feathers.
“I am older than you can imagine.”
Jez didn’t feel his power, but his hands wove a ward against illusion. It snapped into place, and the starry background shattered, leaving a room made of gray stone with a brown ceiling. The being before him, however, was no illusion, and it remained. Jez knew what it was, and he could think of only one thing to do, a thing he’d hoped he’d never have to do again. He closed his eyes and touched the terrible power within him, the power he’d used when battling Dusan and the demon lord Marrowit. He didn’t draw fully, though. Mortal flesh couldn’t contain that power, and he wasn’t willing to risk the damage that drawing too deeply would do, but he did draw enough to change.
Jez’s robes became brilliant blue and a crystal sword appeared on his belt, its weight comfortable on his hip. Pure white wings emerged from his back and he floated off the ground.
“No, you aren’t.”
Surprise flashed across the shadow’s face, evident in spite of its concealment. The form began to evaporate until Villia stood before him, her eyes wide. Jez returned to his normal form as well and met Villia’s gaze. She shuddered and looked away.
“You’re no limaph,” she said.
“No.”
“You’re a pharim.”
“So are you.”
Sharim looked at the ground and her shoulders slumped. “I was.”
“Was?”
She lifted her head and Jez found himself searching her eyes for some sign of the ancient knowledge he knew had to reside in her mind, but they just seemed to be ordinary eyes. Tears welled up, but she managed to keep from crying.
“Before I rebelled.” Her voice was barely above a whisper.
Jez stared at her, shocked by what he’d heard. The pharim rebellion had happened so long ago it was more myth than history. Some of the pharim had rebelled against the Creator, and as punishment, they had been cursed to wander the earth searching for a purpose forever denied to them. The limaph, like Osmund, were descendants of these outcasts, but they had vanished from history so long ago many didn’t believe in them. It was almost too impossible to believe.
“You’re an afur.”
“Have you come to destroy me?”
“I didn’t even know you were here.”
She barked out a laugh and a single tear ran down her cheek. “You are a pharim.”
Jez bit his lower lip but only hesitated for a second. “You should probably sit. This is about Dusan.”
Jez spent the next several minutes explaining to Villia everything that had happened since he first went to the Academy. Her eyes widened at times but she never interrupted. Once he was done, she gingerly poked his arm as if making sure he was really made of flesh. Apparently unsatisfied, she did it again. When she tried a third time, he caught her finger and she looked up at him. She smiled and Jez released her finger.
“I’ve never heard of anything like this.”
“What about you?” Jez asked. “How did you end up here?”
She shrugged. “I am a Veilspeaker.” She coughed. “At least I was once. Where else would I be but influencing the politics of a kingdom?”
Jez waved his hand at the ceiling. The stars weren’t there, but he could see them in his mind.
“And this?”
The stars appeared and started a slow movement. Villia didn’t look away from them as she spoke. “I do what I can to remember the time before I rebelled, when I could walk among the stars.”
“Why were you leaving?”
“I heard the rumors. There were battle demons summoned into the keep, and I want no part in that. My abilities are limited in direct conflict. My power was distilled when I was banished from the Keep of the Hosts, and my essence was bound to this world.”
Jez nodded in understanding. “You can be destroyed.”
“Please, let me go.”
“Dusan summoned a demon that threatened the whole world. If Lina is trying to do something similar...” A thought struck him, and he pulled the book from Lina’s quarters out of his robes and handed it to Villia. “Can you read this?”
Villia flipped through the pages and nodded. “It’s written in the language of the Knitos who died off thousands of years before the first king of Ashtar was born. They were demon worshipers. Where did you get it?”
“It was in Lina’s room, hidden behind an illusion.”
“She doesn’t know this language.”
“Are you sure?”
“Not entirely, but it would take years to learn. She’s not old enough.”
“Does it talk about how to summon Marrowit?”
“That and more.” She turned the page and shook her head. “There are summoning rituals for at least a dozen major demons and a host of minor ones. This book should be destroyed.”
“We can’t,” Jez said. “Not yet. We don’t know what Lina is trying to do. This might have a way to stop her.”
Suddenly, Jez’s nostrils flared with the scent of sulfur. It came on so strong Jez felt dizzy and he had to hold onto the table to avoid falling. A crystal fell to the ground, and it was only then that Jez realized the ground had been shaking. Villia scooped the crystals off the ground and returned them to the desk. She met his gaze.
“Assuming we’re not too late already.”
Jez looked from the door to Villia. She shifted the pack on her shoulder, but she was obviously ready to leave.
“You are needed, Shadowguard,” she said.
“Promise me you won’t leave.”
She shook her head. “No. I will be gone within an hour. If you did not come to the city because of me, then I will not sub
mit to your authority.”
Again, the ground shook, and his nostrils flared. “But you’re a pharim. You’re supposed to protect people from demons.”
She smirked. “I was a pharim, and even then, I was a manipulator, not a warrior. You and your kind were the defenders. I don’t believe it is in you to stay and keep me here.”
“I could bind you.”
“You won’t. If what I suspect is true, you’ll need your strength.”
“But...” the smell of sulfur surged. Jez looked back to the door and moved to leave. Just before he started down the stairs, he looked over his shoulder. “You’re right. You are not a pharim.”
CHAPTER 26
Jez practically flew down the stairs. He heard screaming before he reached the bottom. The crystal sword appeared in his hand, and he barely gave a thought to his skin crawling in response to the power pulsing inside of him. He burst into the corridor and ran right into a group of chezamuts surrounding a pair of cowering servants. Their surprise lasted only a second, but by then, Jez’s sword had cut shallow gashes in two of them, and blue fire erupted from their wounds. Though it was only a shadow of a true pharim’s weapon, the crystal sword had been created with the purpose of fighting demons, and even seemingly insignificant wounds dealt to such creatures could be devastating.
The demons howled and vanished. The other two came at him, but without the dampening effects of the prison, he was well prepared for them. The silver binding shot out of his hand, entering one demon through the mouth and exploding out of the back of its head. Before it even had a chance to cry out, Jez swung his arm, pulling the light along with it. The beam split the final demon in two. The entire engagement had happened over the space of half a dozen heartbeats, and the servants hadn’t even had a chance to cry out.
“Are you all right?”
A golden haired woman nodded, though she couldn’t seem to form words.
“Go into Villia’s tower,” he said. “You should be safe there.”
Veilspeaker (Pharim War Book 2) Page 8