Shadowguard

by Gama Ray Martinez

  Jez tucked his wings and dove. He landed in the courtyard. Massive red doors were held closed by a large wooden beam. Jez lifted both hands. The stone of the castle might only have been a dream, but it still responded to the magic of the earth. The doorway twisted, causing the door to crack. A second later, it fell to the ground in pieces. Jez stepped over broken stone and entered the home of the demon.

  CHAPTER 38

  Though Jez had never seen the inside of Rumar Keep, he was certain it didn’t look like this. Pits of fire dotted a hall that looked more like a cave than a palace. Shadows danced among the stalactites, and the ground rumbled constantly. The air was thick with smoke and ash, and it became difficult to breathe until Jez remembered that this was a dream, and he didn’t need air in this place. Instantly, his difficulty vanished. Even the heat stopped bothering him, though he was still aware of it.

  Small passages snaked off from the main hall. Other lesser nightmare demons inhabited the building, but they shrank away from Jez. Here, he could’ve destroyed them, but he needed to preserve his strength. He could sense Marrowit further down the hall. Jez summoned his sword as he approached the door at the end of the passage. Here, in the dream, it came easily. The door blocking his way was decorated with mystic runes designed for protection, but it offered no more resistance than the one in the courtyard. With that out of the way, Jez stepped into the throne room.

  Marrowit sat on a throne of molten gold that flowed into a fiery pool around him. Images of faces appeared there and vanished a second later. The demon himself looked at Jez with utter contempt. A gust of wind blew past Jez and made the throne ripple. For a second, Jez heard screaming in his mind. A new face emerged from the throne, shrieking and trying to force its way out. Marrowit laughed.

  “You couldn’t defeat me in your world, Luntayary. Do you really think you can face me here, where I’m at my strongest? Here, where your fears are mine to use?”

  Jez wanted to deny the name, to say he was Jezreel, not Luntayary, but the voice that came out of his mouth was much older and more powerful than his own.

  “You shouldn’t have made it so easy to follow you,” Luntayary said. “In your place of power, I don’t have to bind you. Here, I can destroy you.”

  “In my place of power, my strength is greater by a hundredfold!”

  Marrowit threw his hand forward, and the room vanished, replaced by utter darkness. Jez felt himself being pulled toward a terrible light. Fear gripped him, and he tried to pull away, but the light came closer and closer until it consumed him. Luntayary screamed again, but then, he was back in the darkness, and the light was approaching again, with all its terror. With all its weakness.

  “Is this what you fear?” Marrowit’s voice echoed through the darkness. “Becoming mortal and losing who you are?”

  The presence of Luntayary retreated in Jez’s mind, and the fear vanished with it. The light was life, it was the sight of Jez being born. Everything he was could be traced to this moment.

  “I am not Luntayary,” he said

  The throne room returned. He was several steps closer than he had been, and though Luntayary no longer controlled him, he still held the pharim’s sword in his hand. Marrowit’s eyes blazed.

  “No, it appears you are not. I think this is more to your tastes.”

  Suddenly, he was back in Kunashi. Dusan was laughing at him, and the sound filled him with rage. His flesh burned away as his mind was pushed aside, leaving him as little more than an observer in his own body. He wouldn’t last long. The other him focused on one of the floating runes, the one that would disrupt the ritual and keep the demon bound, the one that would kill so many people. The sword came down, and Jez tried to stop it, to turn it aside, to do anything, but this time, he could only watch. The sword cut through the rune, and he could hear the screams of the dying. All that blood was on his hands, not that it would matter much longer. The pharim was consuming him from the inside. He blinked, and the sword cut the rune again. This time, he saw the image of a sleeping child. She woke just as the energy of the disrupted ritual swept over her. She seemed to age a hundred years in a second. She laid her head down and didn’t move again.

  Again and again, he cut the rune. Each time, he saw a different face or heard a different voice. Each time added guilt and pain. Each time, was a wound against his soul. Finally, when the grief had nearly destroyed him, his sense of self was restored, and he felt renewed. His sword was rushing toward the rune that would start this whole vicious cycle over again.

  “This is what you fear,” Marrowit’s voice said. “How ironic that both mortal and pharim fear the same thing, losing yourself to the other.”

  At the demon’s voice, the presence within Jez stirred. He felt it growing inside, but Marrowit noticed too, and the scene changed back to the darkness and the light, driving Luntayary away until Jez alone remained. Then it changed back to the sword and the rune. He lost track of how many times the images shifted, holding him in perpetual terror. Before long, he didn’t even know which consciousness was dominant. All he knew was fear. He had failed everyone. His father. Besis. Osmund.

  Osmund. He’d said Luntayary was different from Ziary. Ziary was a separate entity, something passed down from the afur. He was a piece of them grafted on to his soul, but Luntayary was Jez and Jez was Luntayary. He’d tried to deny it, but it was like trying to deny the sea or the sky. You could not just pretend away reality. He and Luntayary were one.

  The light grew before him, until it surrounded him. It didn’t destroy him. It had never been able to. Instead, it changed Luntayary. Like Ziary, Luntayary had been a creature of absolutes, but it had lived for years as a mortal, and because that, he saw what no pharim ever had. Shades of gray. That didn’t diminish him. It made him more.

  Luntayary’s presence appeared in his mind, but it didn’t push Jez aside as it had done before. It came forward as a deeper part of himself, something greater and truer to his own nature than anything else. It wasn’t something other than him. It was his true self, what remained when everything else had been stripped away. Here was a creature incapable of fear, but they had never truly been separate. Luntayary’s courage had enabled Jez to stand up against a dark mage infinitely greater than himself. Luntayary could not speak a lie, and that inability made Jez woefully inadequate at illusion. They were the same and always had been.

  The fear vision Marrowit had encased him in shattered. The demon actually looked surprised as Jez lifted his sword.

  “Impressive,” Marrowit said. His throne bubbled and spewed molten metal. Jez jumped back, but it wasn’t meant as an attack. The liquid resolved itself into the form of a human. The fiery orange gave way to pale skin and gray hair. A dark robe was embroidered with the image of a closed fist.

  “Jezreel?” Dusan said, his face awash with fear.

  “Here,” Marrowit said. “I give him to you.”

  Jez stuttered. “What?”

  “He died under my power. His soul belongs to me. He has taken everything from you. He is yours to do with as you will. Torture him for eternity if that is what you wish.”

  “You think this will convince me not to attack you?”

  “Jezreel, please,” Dusan said in tears. “Take me with you. I can teach you. Together, we can come back. We could destroy him.”

  “Perhaps he is right,” Marrowit said. “I will release you. Take him. I care not. Simply leave me be. Challenge me again when he has taught you all. You are no match for me as you are.”

  Jez hesitated. He’d known from the beginning that he had a slim chance to defeat Marrowit in his own realm, perhaps given time, with Dusan’s help...

  No. Dusan may be a master mage, but he was also evil. Learning from him would inevitably taint Jez. He didn’t know what that corruption would do to the part of him that was Luntayary, but he doubted it would be a good thing. Marrowit had to know that. A bound pharim was one thing, but a corrupted one would be another thing entirely. Perhaps it would be as g
reat a threat as Marrowit himself. Jez shook his head.

  “A pity.” Dusan screamed and vanished as his body melted back into the throne. Marrowit lifted his hand again. “Perhaps this.”

  Again, the seat boiled and spewed out another form. Jez gasped when it came together. It was his father.

  CHAPTER 39

  Bartin was on hands and knees, weeping, while Marrowit sat on his throne, impassively. Jez reached forward, but snatched his hand back before he touched the crouching figure.

  “This isn’t possible,” Jez took a step back. “My father died while he was awake. You didn’t have him.”

  Marrowit waved off his denial. “What you saw was nothing but a remnant. I had already taken most of his soul. Do you want it? It’s yours if you wish.”

  “Why would you just give him up?”

  “He is only one soul. It is nothing to me, but it means a great deal to you. What do you say, Shadowguard? What would you have me do? His body is gone, but it is a simple matter to release his soul into the body of another in my grasp, or if you wish, I will release him to whatever fate awaits mortal souls. I will send you back to your body, and you may live out your life.”

  “You’re afraid I’ll succeed.”

  Marrowit laughed. “You have as much chance to destroy me as a fly has to destroy you.”

  “Then why?”

  “What do I gain by destroying you? I could kill you, but that would only restore you. In this place, I could even cripple your soul so that your full power is never restored, but that would break your charge to guard over me. Sariel,” Marrowit cringed at the name, “would only set another to the task. So long as your soul is whole, I am under your charge, and so long as you are mortal, you can choose. If you decide to leave me be...”

  “Pharim cannot violate mortal choice,” Jez said.

  “I would be free.”

  “The Darkhunters...”

  “The Darkhunters could not reach me here.”

  “You’ll try to bring the whole world under your sway.”

  “I will not touch you or your father.”

  “And have us watch the world crumble around us?”

  Marrowit inclined his head. “I give you my oath that if you accept the soul of your father, I will not take another mortal for as long as you live. In fact, I will release all those I currently hold. They will wake, and you will be a hero.” Jez gaped at him, but the demon shrugged, a gesture that looked odd with his inhuman form. “I have been bound since the foundation of the earth was laid. What is another hundred years to me?”

  Demons had made bargains since mortal kind had first learned of them. If they made an oath, they were bound by it. They were experts in twisting words, but Marrowit had spoken plainly. If Jez took him up on it, he would leave them alone.

  “Jez?”

  The voice cut through Jez’s thoughts. The sword faded from his hand. His father had finally managed to look up. His eyes were red with tears. He crawled to Jez and held on to his leg, and Jez felt himself go weak in the knees. He closed his eyes.

  “Is this truly my father?” he asked. “Speak it to me in an oath.”

  “I give you my oath that this is your father, save for the part of him which passed beyond when you woke him.”

  He opened his eyes just as his father turned and saw the demon. He yelped and looked up at Jez.

  “Jez, what’s going on?” his father asked. “What is that? What’s been happening? I’ve been seeing your mother die over and over again.”

  Jez’s breath caught in his throat. His mother had died screaming, drenched in sweat, and unable to control her own body, all because she’d been cut by a rusty fishhook. He’d seen it happen. It had given him nightmares for weeks, and now his father had been tortured by the memory.

  “I’m here to get you out of here, Father,” Jez said, kneeling and embracing him.

  “Then you accept?”

  Jez looked up at the demon on the verge of nodding.

  “Where are we?” Bartin asked.

  “It’s only a nightmare. Don’t worry.”

  Bartin shook his head. “I’ve never dreamed anything like this.”

  “That’s because it’s not your nightmare.” Jez pointed at Marrowit. “It’s his.”

  “Do you agree?” Marrowit asked.

  “It’s a demon, isn’t it?”

  “Yes.”

  “Don’t do it.”

  “But Father...”

  “I told you before you left, don’t become one of those people who trade their souls for money and power.”

  “I’m not doing this for money or power. I’m doing it for you.”

  “Some prices are too high.”

  Tears streamed down his face. Bartin knew exactly what would happen if Jez refused. Marrowit would drag him down into an eternal nightmare, but he was willing to deny Marrowit what he wanted. His father understood what Osmund had told Jez on the first day they’d met. There were shades of gray but not always. There was such a thing as absolute good, and there was absolute evil.

  Jez summoned the image of what he’d been into his mind, and the dream shaped itself to his will. His sword reformed in his hand, and shining wings emerged from his back. His clothes transformed into sapphire robes that shone with their own light. He looked up at the demon. Its eyes blazed as it realized what he was going to say.

  “No.”

  His father didn’t even cry out as he melted into a pool of liquid gold and was reabsorbed into Marrowit’s throne. The demon rose and stepped down, a fiery sword appearing in its hands. Its face showed no emotion, but Jez could feel the hate radiating from him. It started to speak, but Jez didn’t wait. He leapt at it, his sword empowered by the strength his father had granted him, and the demon roared and lifted its sword to meet the attack.

  CHAPTER 40

  The swords clashed with a sound like a hurricane on the open seas. The palace shattered, and the throne crumbled. For just a moment, Jez thought they were evenly matched, but it didn’t take long take for Marrowit to dispel that illusion. Immediately, his sword lashed out toward Jez’s face. He swung his sword in a wide arc, batting the other weapon away just before it pierced his skull. He could feel the heat radiating off the weapon before Marrowit drew back. The demon moved faster than he would’ve believed possible. His sword seemed to be everywhere at once. Jez had to draw on everything he’d learned from both Murus and his memories of his time as a pharim to ward off the attacks.

  Every blow sent pain shooting down Jez’s arm. He didn’t have time to counter. All his efforts were spent in staying alive. One blow drove Jez back a step. At a second, he fell to his knees. He knew a third would rip the weapon from his grasp. Jez rolled out of its way at the last instant, lashing with his own sword at the demon’s leg. His weapon bit into the creature, and Marrowit roared. The demon stumbled, and Jez attacked again. Marrowit’s sword crashed into Jez’s blade, driving it to the ground. Jez brought his wings forward, slamming one into Marrowit. The touch of the demon seared his wings, but it also knocked Marrowit off balance. Jez thrust, but Marrowit had already moved out of the way.

  His father screamed in terror, and the sound caught Jez off guard. He turned in that direction, but there was no one there. He turned back to see the demon’s sword about to disembowel him. He brought his sword up, but Marrowit twisted its blade, catching Jez’s weapon and tearing it from his grip. The sword skidded across the floor. The demon delivered a powerful kick to Jez’s chest that sent him into the air. He’d only gone about a foot before Marrowit brought a fist down on him. He slammed into the ground so hard cracks spread across the stone. Marrowit put a foot on his face and held its sword at Jez’s throat.

  “You never really had a chance. Dusan’s curse bound you too well.”

  “Go ahead. Kill me,” Jez said. “I’ll come back unbound by human flesh.”

  “I don’t have to kill you.” With a swipe of his sword, he cut off Jez’s left wing. Jez screamed. “I just hav
e to hold you. I can sustain your body for a few years before it dies and restores you to what you once were.” With another flick of his sword, he cut off the other wing. “By then, more of the world will have fallen under my sway, and every mind will be giving me strength. I will surpass what I was the first time you bound me. In the meantime...” Another slash removed Jez’s sword arm. “I can have fun.”

  Jez’s blood sprayed from his would, covering the ground in crimson. It should’ve been enough to kill him, but it wasn’t real blood. It was only a dream, and his body didn’t need it. Marrowit lifted his sword to strike again, and remove his other arm. Jez’s eyes went wide, as the sword sheered through flesh and bone. He barely felt the pain as the arm flopped to one side, and Jez’s eyes widened as he watched the arm. It wasn’t really an arm. It was no more real than the blood.

  Dusan had bound him to human flesh for one lifetime, and that flesh restrained his power. A mortal body could not withstand the full power of a pharim flowing through it, but this was a dream, and his body was just a construct of his mind. His soul was still a pharim’s soul, and his will was still a pharim’s will. In this place, the bindings Dusan had placed on him meant only as much as Jez allowed. In this place, he summon the full power of Luntayary unbound by human flesh.

  Wings erupted from his back, but these weren’t the wings formed from the dream. These were true pharim’s wings. His wings. His arms grew back, shimmering with power. He grabbed Marrowit’s leg. The touch that would’ve seared his human form was little more than a pinprick to his true hands. He threw the demon off himself and rose until he stood a foot above the ground. His sword materialized in his hand, his true sword, not just the shadow he’d been able to create before. The mortal world was governed by human choice, and pharim could not violate that, thus their power in that world was limited, but here, in a demon’s place of power, those limits were removed, and Jez’s form blazed with an angry light. Marrowit took a step back before standing to his full height.