Malice

by Stacy Charasidis

  “Nothing’s going to go wrong,” he said calmly. “That demon is as good as gone.”

  She shuddered as his hands caused friction and warmth on her arms in contrast to her chilled body. “Sean, I’ve left out the terrifying parts of what this thing can do to a person. Believe me, he’s described his entertainment to me in great detail. We can’t take this lightly in any way.”

  “Fine, Elanah. What’s the worst that can happen? We die.”

  “No,” she whispered, “we die screaming in agony, and it takes a very, very long time.” She spaced out her words for emphasis.

  Sean hesitated momentarily before continuing his rubbing. “Well, I for one do not plan to die today. We have Valentine, Wayman, and Roderick to help, and they are very powerful Fae. Klaus knows the demon and its weaknesses, as do I.”

  Not really, she thought guiltily.

  “And, best of all, we have you, our very own supremely powerful witch. Look what you did for Barrington! Everything will go exactly as planned.”

  “I hope so,” she said anxiously. Everything had to go exactly as planned or everyone was dead.

  Elanah spent the rest of the day observing as Sean paid the last of the workers their wages and sent them home. Each man she touched forgot what they’d really built here, and she replaced their memory with that of a new town. New workers would be brought in to actually build the new town of Superstition, but they wouldn’t be men from Limerick.

  She also made sure they forgot about her completely. What she didn’t need was anyone in Limerick talking about her within hearing distance of her husband, or Sean’s wife. She shuddered at the thought.

  The last man to arrive and collect his wages was their sacrifice, Barnabus. No one knew his last name, and she wasn’t sure he did either. Sean had asked Klaus to detain him while he took care of the rest of the men. The man was scowling when he finally stomped over to the table. The last wagonload of men had just disappeared into the forest, and he was obviously very angry about not being with them.

  “I don’t unnerstand why I been held up. The wagon master would’na wait fer me and I done missed the wagon, now.”

  Sean looked at the man without any emotion on his face. He offered the man his wages, which the man took and stuffed in the dirty, ripped pocket of his pants.

  Elanah was certain he hadn’t bathed since he got here.

  His fingers were stubby and calloused, and there wasn’t a crack on the skin of his hands that wasn’t black with dirt. Long, straggly hair, once brown but now filled with gray, floated around his face under a dirty brown hat. His face was round, browned from the sun, and creased from scowling. Black beady eyes stared out meanly, his mouth curving into a sneer. Elanah could see a lot of his gums because he was missing many of his teeth. The teeth that remained were gray with black stains.

  “So how’m I suppose tuh git home nows the last wagon has gone ’n left?” the man asked angrily, waving his hand in the direction the wagon had taken.

  Sean stood up smoothly and spoke as he closed the cash box and started packing up his things. “There will be another wagon and coaches here tomorrow morning to transport the rest of us back to town. You will simply join us then.”

  The man’s black eyes stared at Sean unblinkingly. An ugly sneer twisted his face. “You gonna pay fer my time? Suppose I gots things to do ’n I want to leave NOW.” The man bristled with aggression and looked ready to swing one of his meaty fists. Elanah didn’t hesitate. While she’d seen Sean spar a few times with his friends with fine form, they all followed the same laws of gentleman fighting. But this man was no gentleman, and she didn’t want Sean’s wits addled before the evening’s ceremony. Everyone had to be in tip top shape to do this, or they would all die horribly. The sacrifice only had to be breathing, not actively conscious.

  She touched the man. “Be still,” she whispered and the man stopped moving. His face went slack as all the anger drained from it and the tension left his body. He stood there swaying slightly as confusion and then fear rolled through his eyes when he realized that he was trapped.

  Sean continued with his packing, chatting with Barnabus as if nothing were happening. “I am sorry about this, my friend. More sorry than I can say.” He looked up and nodded. Valentine was there in an instant and took hold of the man, a look of distaste on his face. “We need a volunteer for a very important task,” Sean said delicately, looking up to stare into the man’s eyes, “and we’ve chosen you. It’s quite an honour, as you’ll see later tonight.”

  The man couldn’t move, but Elanah noticed he was sweating despite the cool March air. Dark patches stained his dirty gray shirt near his armpits. She could smell his terror. No one else noticed or cared.

  They were joined by Klaus Deitriche, a tall, thick man with a bald head and a white, round face. His small, watery blue eyes were covered with round, silver spectacles. He had thick fingers like sausages that were stained black with ink. He wore a severe black suit that was full of dust. His manner was cold and unsmiling, and when he walked by the sweating man, he didn’t even glance at him.

  “Are ve ready?” he asked nervously. Klaus was Danner’s thrall, and had been for years. Elanah had enlisted his aid by assuring him she could end his enslavement to the demon. He was putting himself in mortal danger by helping to plan and participate in the banishment ritual; but if it worked, she knew it would save his life. The people in Limerick had been getting very suspicious of him. Mutterings about Klaus consorting with the devil had started to spread through the distrustful townsfolk, which was how Elanah had finally found him. She knew the demon had to have a mortal serving him somewhere close. Normally under a strong geas not to talk about his master, Elanah had gotten around Danner’s elemental magic using a compelling revelation spell. Danner would probably have killed him soon, anyway. Klaus wasn’t much use to the demon if he was exposed and couldn’t continue in secret.

  “We are now.” Elanah said, nodding at the immobile prisoner. She had muted the amulet’s effects and the frozen man’s eyes had widened when she suddenly appeared to his senses. “Witch,” his eyes seemed to accuse her. She ignored him.

  She touched Klaus’ arm in an encouraging manner. “We’re almost free. A few more hours.”

  Klaus shuddered visibly. “Yes, but now I am banished here, to ze middle of novhere.” He looked around at the surrounding forest with despair.

  Elanah nodded with sympathy. “I am sorry for that Klaus,” but secretly she thought he was better off. He’d been shunned by Limerick society. “At least here you can live without fear of being snubbed or lynched by an angry mob.”

  “Yes, ze lack of people solves that problem.”

  “It won’t be for long,” she tried to reassure him. “The builders and their families will be here soon and you will have a new town.”

  He nodded distractedly at her words. She could feel fear emanating from Klaus and mingling with her own. Only they truly knew the kind of being they were dealing with. Tonight they would call him, the demon who thought humans were meat bags to tear open and torture for fun, things to play with and indulge himself with.

  She was terrified.

  When evening fell, the spell’s perimeter had been set. Over the huge prison, now covered with earth, a circle of salt measuring twenty-seven feet across from any direction formed the outside of the spell. Five feet in was another salt circle forming an outer ring boundary where Elanah, Sean, Klaus, and Valentine stood at the cardinal points. In the next inner ring, beyond the second salt circle stood four men, recruited by Sean to participate in the ceremony and guard the four cardinal points. Five feet in from them was a final salt ring. The interior of that ring was five feet across and contained a bronze-cast pentagram.

  The spell looks like an archery target, she mused to herself. Two rings of protection before he could get to her. It didn’t seem like enough.

  Wayman and Roderick were faint glowing blue smudges in the dark woods as they kept watch in case things
went terribly wrong.

  The spell site flickered with candlelight. The outer ring had sixteen black candles flickering, one at each of the cardinal points, the points of the pentagram, and in between. Eight more candles ringed the guards, and five candles burned at each end of the pentacle in the inner circle.

  The small space that would contain Danner, the nine-foot, burly, vicious, sadistic demon from a dimension of Hell, would be tight.

  “Are you sure he’ll fit?” Klaus had questioned as the circle had been set.

  “Yes, just barely, but he’ll only be there long enough for me to banish him after he’s called. Two minutes, at the most.”

  Klaus looked uneasy.

  “Trust me Klaus. We don’t want him to be able to move, talk, or think, or we’re all dead.”

  “You said zis spell vas unbreakable.”

  “As long as I get the chance to cast it. I may die before then. This is Danner we’re talking about,” Elanah reminded him, “and there will be humans nearby. Anything could go wrong. We need to be fast and purposeful.”

  “Yes.”

  They were as ready as they were ever going to be.

  Darkness was falling and it was eerily silent in the circle. The men had been instructed not to listen to the demon, not to do anything it said, and not to step over the salt line into the pentacle area for any reason, or they would die. They had all been given amulets so Danner couldn’t use the power of voice to command them.

  The men were dark slivers in the candlelight, standing stoically, their swords glinting. They had wanted guns, but Elanah hadn’t allowed it. They were ineffectual weapons against a demon. Only iron or magical objects would have any effect. Besides, it was easy to turn a gun on a fellow soldier. She couldn’t take that chance.

  Along with their swords, which she’d spelled to cut demon flesh, she had given the men iron shavings to put in their pockets to throw if necessary. The iron wouldn’t help at all, to be honest. For Danner it would only sting annoyingly, but it was to provide an additional measure of reassurance to the men. It was better than nothing at all.

  The man standing right in front of Elanah was still but attentive to her commands as she carefully collected blood from him and the rest of the spell participants. She walked the circle and cut into their palms with an old, iron knife, watching as their red blood dripped from their veins and mixed together in an old iron chalice. The knife and chalice had been used by witches in demonic rituals for centuries, and held the blood memories of hundreds of murder and sacrifice victims. They were unclean, profane items, and perfect vessels for tonight’s work.

  Iron was anathema to the Fae, so Valentine’s blood was not included with the human. Anyway, Fae blood, if used to call a demon, would act as a challenge, and Elanah didn’t want Danner worked up over a non-existent rival. His ego now was such that any imagined slight sent him into severe paroxysms of anger and violent fits, usually with devastating results.

  Hidden in her dress was another knife. A special knife deadly to humans and immortal beings alike. Valentine had given it to her to use if she got the chance. She dared not even think its name for fear of it being removed from her person. No, if she had her way, Danner wouldn’t only be banished.

  He would cease to exist.

  Back at her place at the southern point of the outer circle, she cut her own hand and watched her blood drip and mingle with the black liquid in the chalice.

  At her feet was a small brazier of glowing coals, seemingly pulsing with life. In front of her, kneeling and oblivious, was Barnabus. He swayed slightly as if being pushed by a gentle wind. She had marked him with the pungent ointment and the smell of it drifted toward her. She had put it on his forehead over the mark of death, which was black and bleeding red at the edges. His death was imminent. She looked around and corrected herself. All their deaths were imminent.

  Sean was looking at her with concern, but she avoided his gaze. Now was not the time for gentleness. She closed her eyes briefly and wrapped her emotions in unbreakable iron bands then opened her eyes. Her face and features were cold, her skin ashen. It was time to call the demon.

  With a deft movement of her wrist, Elanah tipped the iron chalice and watched as the black liquid turned red in the candlelight on the way to the brazier. When the blood hit the coals the thick liquid hissed, spewing black smoke. The burning smell was sickening, but would smell like baking bread to their demon. As smoke billowed, Elanah dropped a small sachet into the coals. It held a red ribbon she had carefully bound, with black wax, to a precious hair, a black hair, a hair belonging to the one being called. It flared brightly as it burned, and Elanah called: “Dannerlich, I summon thee!” she shouted, her voice resounding in the quiet of the clearing. “Dannerlich! I summon thee and offer thee mortal blood!” Then she called a third time, “Dannerlich! I summon thee and bid thee attend me!”

  Dropping the chalice behind her, Elanah grabbed Barnabus by the hair, pulling him toward her, his back to her front. She picked up the iron knife. It was thick with black blood, old and new. She waited, her heart slamming in her chest.

  Dannerlich was coming. She could feel his enormous presence. Fear flooded her. They were going to die.

  Within the pentagram a form began to coalesce. It was huge, easily nine feet tall and five feet across the shoulders. Muscle rippled as it solidified and struggled against its boundaries. Its black claws raked viciously with lightning speed at the invisible walls. It tipped its head back and howled its fury and frustration at its confinement. Then it suddenly stopped and looked around, breathing heavily. Its insane, yellow eyes marked everyone in the clearing. Elanah could feel the men’s shock and terror at the huge being and prayed they wouldn’t bolt. Dannerlich’s eyes finally settled on her and he smiled, showing row after row of sharp, shark-like teeth.

  She refused to look below his face. She knew he was aroused, a state he claimed to always find himself in around her. Dannerlich had raped her repeatedly since they’d been introduced by his previous lover, a very spiteful, and now dead, witch. No one knew what Danner had been doing to her, not her husband and especially not her beloved Sean. It was humiliating and excruciatingly painful. Dannerlich had a huge member and used it viciously. He loved to tear into women and hear them scream.

  Then watch them die as he ripped them apart.

  She had to rid the world of him. Banishment was the only way for this abomination, but death would be better. She felt the press of the other knife against her body. Terror flooded her when he spoke.

  “Why, greetings, Elanah, my loverrrr,” he purred the last word. “You called? I was rather busy on the European continent. So many cattle…” he sighed. A quick glance only confirmed her suspicions. His straining, ocher part was stiff and red with blood. His hands were bloody as well. He had probably torn his victim apart as he raped her and then climaxed at her dying breath, the poor nameless girl.

  No more.

  “Welcome, Dannerlich, my love,” Elanah forced herself to purr back. “I missed you so much. I have a gift for you,” she said softly, and with a quick, decisive movement, exposed Barnabus’ neck and slit his throat from ear to ear.

  Dannerlich was thrilled and gasped with delight. “Let me out,” he hissed, trying to get to the dying man.

  “Be calm, Dannerlich. Your plaything is coming.” She was surreptitiously letting the dead man’s life blood drip into the brazier beside her. After a few moments she nodded to the guard in front of her who lifted Barnabus’ lifeless body over the salt line she stood behind.

  “Let me out,” Dannerlich hissed again, impatiently, becoming visibly furious. He now had his eyes pinned on the guard holding Barnabus.

  “Do not look at him, and do not listen to him,” Elanah said sharply to the guard as he hesitated, grunting with the dead man’s weight. She prayed her amulets wouldn’t fail her now.

  She closed her eyes and started the banishment chant, crooning softly. Her blood sacrifice committed, she added her blood,
the caster’s blood, to the brazier from a fresh cut in the palm of her hand. She tossed one last hair of Dannerlich’s into the fire, remembering the pain and agony she’d suffered to get those hairs. Now all she had to do was chant. The words were like keys, unlocking the prison, opening it to receive its new tenant.

  She tipped her head back, put her arms out to the sides of her body, turned her hands up in a pose of supplication, and started the banishment spell.

  That’s when everything went to hell.

  Dannerlich was whispering to the guard persuasively. “Yes, bring the body here. Poor you. It must be so heavy. Don’t lift it. Just drag it over to me. A little dirt never hurt anyone.”

  Elanah frowned. From the corner of her eye she could see the guard struggling with Barnabus’ heavy body. He’d been instructed not to step over the salt and was trying to maneuver the body without crossing over. He did as Dannerlich suggested, dragging the body closer. Dannerlich looked positively gleeful. “That’s it! Watch you don’t burn yourself on the candle!”

  Elanah’s chanting was having an effect on the ground over the buried prison and around the salt circles. Sigils of power and containment glowed through the earth around the clearing, red and orange brands of power. The large area started to look like hundreds of small fires were flickering on the ground.

  Dannerlich also felt the surge of power and looked around. He frowned as he tried to figure out what was going on. “What are you doing, Elanah? Why did you call me?” He paused for a moment. “You never call me. Come to think of it, what did you call me?”

  The guard grunted as he dumped most of Barnabus’ body over the salt line. Only his feet remained, and the guard went to lift them and twist them over into the demon’s circle, but Danner was faster. He pulled the body to him, letting its feet trail along the ground, compromising the salt line and leaving a gap.