Fate's Hand
Page 20
Val took the chance, swinging the massive blade around, taking the undead’s head off. From the corner of his eye, Val saw Pent break off the arrow in a fit of rage and run at him. The young man didn’t change his attack, and instead drove more force with his left hand to do a complete spin with the greatsword. The ghoul smiled, thinking he had the advantage and ducked under Val’s blade. Val’s devil hand let go of the sword and struck out across Pent’s face, stabbing his fingers into the creature's left eye. The hand then immediately grabbed his hip dagger and plunged it through Pent’s hand and injured eye as the ghoul grabbed at its face.
The momentum of the sword pulled Val away from Pent as he blindly struck out and tried to escape Val’s volley of attacks. Val finally stopped his run and tried once again to steady his sword. His shoulder was sore from the jerking he received when his other hand let go. He rolled his shoulder around to shrug off the throbbing pain. Pent violently snatched the dagger from his eye, throwing it across the yard.
Asher finished off the last of the corpses and joined his brother and Val.
“I’m sorry, Uncle Pent. I thank you for everything you did for us. Without you, we never would have made it. But you died a good man. And that’s how you will always be remembered. I will kill this hollow and evil demon, and with that I will avenge you.”
The ghoul stared at Val through his remaining eye. Val, Asher, and Rylan held their ground and waited for the ghoul to make a move. Pent finally screamed out in rage and charged the three men, his left shoulder and eye pouring black blood.
Pent ran at Val, but as he came close to him, he clawed across his arm with a violent movement and threw a spray of dark blood across Val and Rylan. The ghoul took the opportunity and dove sideways at Asher. The archer released his arrow and immediately brought his bow up to block the attack. Pent grabbed Asher’s bow with both hands and kicked out violently, sending Asher sprawling. As soon as Pent hit the ground, he ran on all fours across the ground and attacked the downed man.
Rylan leaped on the ghoul's back and began rapidly stabbing him with his dual daggers. Pent arched his back and let out a furious shriek before Val came and tackled the two. He rolled away from the flurry of claws and teeth as Rylan and Pent struggled. Asher coughed and held his chest, but looked okay.
Rylan let out a sharp grunt as Pent kneed him in the stomach. Val ran across and kicked Pent in the side of the head before the ghoul could bite into Rylan. Val grabbed Rylan and pulled him over by his brother. He picked his sword up off the ground and ran at Pent while he tried to recover. Val swung his sword down to the ground as Pent looked up and twisted to dodge the blade. Pent flipped back the other direction and landed on the flat side of Val’s sword, kicking it deep into the moist soil. Pent grinned wide at Val with blood streaming down his face.
As Pent tried to lash out at Val, the young man used all his strength and pulled the sword straight. The power behind the movement caught Pent across his chest and sent him soaring. Pent landed several feet back, rolling in the dirt. Rylan and Asher had recovered and ran up to stand next to Val. Pent got up and let out another piercing scream. The bloodied ghoul hunched down and eyed the three men before launching another vicious attack.
Val gave a battle cry and lifted his sword high. The ghoul accelerated his run and struck at Val. The young man released his sword and reached behind Asher, pulling out his secondary blade. Val struck like lightning, cutting off both of Pent’s hands, then reversed his stroke and swiped across Pent’s injured shoulder, taking it off at the joint. Val felt his hand pull slightly, so he released his grip on Asher’s sword and grabbed the back of Pent’s neck as he slid to the ground.
Rylan and Asher hacked away at the ghoul’s body as Val held it down. When the men finished, Pent’s body was slashed and hacked, but he was still breathing. Val walked over and picked up his greatsword. The tip dragged across the ground as Val moved to stand over Pent. Val used his foot to nudge over the ghoul’s body and looked at the gruesome, smiling face. He lifted his sword one last time, letting it hover over Pent’s neck.
“If there is any little bit of you left in there, Uncle Pent, I love you.”
The sword came down.
Asher went to help Daria off the roof as Val and Rylan washed the ghoul’s blood off themselves. Daria came running across the muddy street, slipping several times. Val stood up and hugged his sister. She released him and ran over to Rylan, embracing the man. With tears in her eyes, Daria looked at Rylan’s face.
Drask studied the pages of his book with Sirash hovering around him. She was flipping through his copy as he traced his fingers over the original. The pain in his hand was intense, but he didn’t want to heal it, for fear the process would ruin the symbols.
“It’s here!” Sirash exclaimed and put her book on the table before Drask.
“You drew this rough symbol of a six-fingered hand on this page.”
“Yes, that’s what he drew, here.” Drask flipped through the book and ran his fingers across the paper. “This page.”
Sirash looked at the pages, then the blank book. “Where is it?”
Drask put his hand flat against the paper. “Right here.” Sirash placed her hand down on top of his and pressed it down.
Drask frowned. “Yes, but I don’t have six fingers.”
Sirash smiled as the page began to glow light red. “The hand was drawn with a thumb on each side. For a left or a right hand.”
He removed his hand and looked at the page as black lettering began to show against the red paper. Drask grabbed an empty page and painstakingly copied the letters.
“It’s a summoning!” Drask blurted. He verified each letter, making sure everything was perfect. Halfway through his check, the light faded and left the pages blank and smooth once again.
Sirash looked concerned. “A summoning for what?”
The four spent a week in the town to bury the dead. Daria cried every day as she collected flowers and vines to make funeral wreaths for all the people she knew. Val and Asher burned the remains of Pent and buried the ashes back in his original grave, near the large tree on his property. Val brought Daria back home the next day and they collected everything they needed.
They took their time looking back at their old home and giving their respects to their uncle. Later that evening, the four had a small fire outside the woodcutter’s house and discussed their next move over supper. Asher placed his bowl down quickly and grabbed his bow. Rylan grabbed a flaming stick from the fire. Asher pointed and Rylan threw the stick across the yard. The flame ripped through the air before landing in the mud. Val and Daria finally heard the hoof beats in the distance. Asher laid an arrow across his bow and looked out into the dim light. He smiled and put the arrow away, winking at Val
As the rider on the white horse got closer, Val abandoned his sword and instead picked up his bowl of food. Jerib rode up next to the fire and climbed off Gabby. He walked over and hugged Val as he smiled at the others. He embraced hands with Asher and Rylan and hugged Daria as well before Val offered him his bowl of food. The wizard took it with a warm smile and sat down next to the fire.
“What did you guys do to this place?”
Daria frowned and looked down. Jerib stopped chewing and looked at Val, embarrassed.
“I’m sorry, I was only…”
Val held his hand up and stopped the man with a smile. “It’s okay. We returned home only to find our Uncle Pent had returned from the grave. He was an undead and the cause of everything you see. We had to fight him.”
Jerib swallowed his bite and put the bowl down, his appetite gone.
“I’m so sorry, Val. But I am glad you are all okay.” Jerib looked out at the others. “It looks like you have had a hard couple of days.”
Rylan nodded. “A lot of innocent people were lost in this town.”
Jerib’s eyes wandered to the fire as the group all thought about the recent events.
“Well, I hate to be the bearer of bad news, b
ut it looks like the dark days have just started.” All eyes turned to Jerib. The wizard reached into his cloak and removed a wax seal scroll. Jerib handed it over to Val with a deep frown.
“What is this?” Val asked as he studied the seal.
“It’s a formal summon from General Arctus Emanu. I am to escort you back to his fortress. He is one of the most powerful men on this continent. And he wants to talk to you about…everything.”
“A summon? Am I in trouble? Couldn’t you have just told him I would come back with you?”
Jerib shook his head. “No, nothing like that. He is a good man, he is just…strict. I told him you would come, but when he says 'bring a summon,' you don’t argue.”
Val considered the wax seal again and set it down on the bench next to him, unopened. The wizard looked around the fire.
“I believe we are on the brink of a massive war that will tear this land apart. And your hand was the beginning of it all, son.”
Arihem walked through the door of the summoning room and stood next to Sirash. He dismissed his invisibility and watched the prince work on his drawing. Drask was dressed in his full armor and robes. The armor was perfect for a battle mage, layers of magical light armor covering his robes. Arihem noted he had his magical staff lying across a nearby table. Even laying there, the weapon looked formidable. The long wooden shaft was carved to look like intricate wrapped black leather. The head of the staff flared out to three large fins, each covered in glowing blue runes. In the middle, a large blue gem hovered and rotated in place. Drask finished his drawing and studied every line.
“What of Yusar?” the devil asked without taking his eyes off his work.
“He failed,” Arihem replied.
“Bring him to me.” When Arihem didn’t immediately walk away, Drask looked up at the fiend. Arihem’s chest and left arm were badly burned and bleeding.
“He resisted. Hard.”
Drask waved his hand to Sirash. “Heal him.”
Sirash began to cast her spell, but Arihem waved her off. “My Prince, I may have hit him a little too hard.”
Drask stopped again, agitated at the line of conversation. “Is he dead?”
“No, sire, but he won’t wake up. He is down in the basement right now. I would like Sirash to take a look at him.”
“Fine. Hurry back, both of you.”
Arihem grabbed Sirash by the arm and hurried her from the room. He pulled her off to the side.
“We need to leave. Now.”
He carried a crumpled piece of paper. She knew what it was before he could even explain.
“No, Arihem. We can’t cast that summoning circle; only a human can. Besides that, why would you want to?”
“Drask’s brother, Verhed.”
Sirash looked around to assure herself they were alone. “Verhed is insane! He would bring nothing—” “He is already here.”
The naga seemed to drain of all color as she realized the weight of his statement. “What have you done Arihem?” she whispered, a small tear rolling down her cheek. Arihem let go of her arms and stood tall.
“What was necessary. You really think Drask can make a foothold here and keep it? He sits in his room and tries to solve some damned riddle while the humans and elves conspire against us. Verhed has the power to command a legion that will not simply wait for the humans to come in force, but rather strike out and destroy them all, taking this entire world as our own. With you, we can—” “I am pregnant.”
Arihem froze, speechless.
“Your child grows in me even now. And you have doomed us all.”
Arihem’s head snapped back and his shock gave way to anger. “I have done what I have not for you, or the child. But for the abyss. The legions of hell will pour across this land and burn it to ashes. Are you coming with me or not?”
“I am not,” Sirash said with a determined look.
Arihem grimaced and took a few steps away from her before re-establishing his invisibility. The massive armored arch demon prince Verhed stepped out of a nearby doorway and into the hallway. His deep voice echoed off the stone corridor.
“What a shame.”
The door to Drask’s summoning circle exploded as Sirash was thrown into the room. The demon prince dropped his book and kicked his staff up into his hand, standing battle ready. Verhed stooped to fit through the shattered doorway. A bloodied and beaten Yusar was shoved in by the invisible Arihem. Drask looked at the scene and shook his head in disapproval.
“I thought you would be happy to see me, little brother.”
Drask looked over to the unconscious Sirash lying among the broken wood on the floor. Drask switched hands on the staff and reached into his cloak to grab a dagger. He kept his hand concealed and stood up straight to look down on his brother.
“I’m just surprised to see you without your lips on father’s rear.” Verhed lost his smile. “You always did have a smart mouth. Speaking of father, he would like to have a word with you. He is waiting.”
Drask chuckled and removed the dagger from his belt. “He sent you here to escort me?”
Verhed eyed the dagger and his brother’s staff. “No, he sent me here to kill you. I can take over from here”
Drask and Verhed locked eyes for several moments until finally the older brother exploded into action. The massive arch demon summoned a fire-covered mace into his hand. The weapon dripped molten steel as he squeezed his massive fingers around the handle. The cold stone sizzled with each drop. Verhed brought his powerful arm around in a swing. As the weapon fully materialized and the spiked ball came hurtling at Drask, the prince smiled and tossed his dagger in the air beside his brother's exposed flank. As the dagger left his hand, Drask disappeared and reappeared under his brother’s ribs, catching the dagger. He thrust the weapon deep into his brother's exposed side and turned his staff toward the open room. Yusar cowered down and shielded his face with his arms.
Drask pointed his staff and released a bolt of blue electricity from the gem on top. The powerful blast caught the charging Arihem across his chest, blasting him back into the stone wall. Verhed snarled and backhanded his brother across his chest. Drask cast a spell before he collided with the wall and instead slowed his projection enough to put his feet down and assume his stance. Verhed whipped his massive fire mace out across the room. The heat from the weapon caught books and scattered papers ablaze. Drask dropped down as the flaming mace soared overhead. Verhed was already in a full run and grabbed his brother up off the floor. Drask began casting, but his brother used his large, free hand to grab him by his face and toss him into a nearby bookshelf.
As the mace melted into a small pool of molten metal in the corner of the room, Verhed removed a large scimitar from his back. He rotated the weapon around by its handle and waded in to finish off Drask. The younger prince was coughing and trying to climb out of the broken furniture when his brother reached him. Drask flicked his hand out and cast a simple faerie fire to illuminate the dagger in Verhed’s ribs. The large arch demon looked down and gave a slight chuckle. Verhed yanked the dagger out and dropped it. As he did, Drask kicked his foot out and struck the dagger as it fell. Verhed spun around as his brother disappeared once again and reappeared behind him, catching the airborne dagger down low. Drask jumped back and flipped over a small table and took cover behind it to cast a spell.
Verhed rushed forward until he saw a dagger fly out from over the table's edge. Verhed watched as the dagger arched over his head and the demon prince smiled as he brought his sword up, ready for Drask to reappear.
When the dagger fell past the demon’s eyes and bounced across the stone floor, Verhed realized his error.
Drask finished his casting and placed both hands on his brother's back. Blinding light filled the room as the built up energy burst from Verhed’s chest. The demon cried out in pain and dropped his sword. As he began to drop to his knees, Drask kicked him in the back. The demon prince walked around to Verhed’s side and rolled him over. The arc
h demon’s armor was still smoking and the metal sizzled as blood poured out of his wounds. Drask kneeled down next to his brother and grabbed him by the jaw.
“Tell father to leave it be. I will never return, and he will never rule this world.”
Verhed scowled at his brother and tried to speak, but Drask thrust his clawed fingers into his chest. Verhed’s back arched and he grabbed at Drask’s arm with weak hands before he let out the last of his air.
Drask grabbed his staff off the ground and stood up to look out across the room. Arihem had Yusar by the back of the neck, holding the wizard a few feet off the ground.
“I’ll break his neck.”
The prince kneeled to check on Sirash. She was alive.
“I have no doubt of that,” Drask stated.
Arihem tightened his grip on the wizard and tried to get a read on the prince. Drask placed his staff down and turned his back to Arihem.
“You said it yourself; you have no idea what his death will do to your hold here on the surface.”
Drask used his left hand to swat out some of the flaming pages on his desk. Verhed’s body began to crumble and burn into ashes. A slight breeze from the open window stirred them.