by Gray, C. M.
‘Well I don’t know about being Pew’s actual skull,’ said Clement. ‘But I do think it is the one we were looking for.’ The skull glowed brighter. ‘Clement is that you?’ The skull’s jaw didn’t move but a voice came from it sounding muted and distant.
‘Pew, are you alive in there?’ the old magician dropped to his knees to be level with the strange skull.
‘Alive yes but in here no, as my heroes will tell you, this is the skull that links to me, not my actual skull, I’m still using that.’ A deep throaty laugh came from the glowing skull.
‘I just explained that to them! I’m not daft, Pew,’ grumbled Magician Clement.
Mahra pushed forward and gave a little yelp of joy. ‘Master it is you!’
‘Mahra, oh, Mahra you’ve done so well. The heroes are together and Bleak left us one hero extra, I hear. Clement will be of great help to us.
‘Let me give some small explanation if I may.’ The skull glowed even brighter. ‘The great spell was conceived and wrapped around three crystal skulls of the kind you see before you. By uniting the skulls at the correct time, the spell will be activated. All of this, the creation of the spell, your Quest, Mahra’s long vigil, is to counter the ultimate threat of the balance swinging to Chaos with no expectation of return. You must find the three skulls and bring them back to me and we can complete the spell; you cannot fail. The book will show you more when this first skull is placed with it, now flee this island as quickly as you can, there is nothing more for you here except trouble. May the Source speed you.’
The glow returned to normal and Loras placed it into his bag. Taking a last look around at the rows of silent skulls, Mahra and Clement offered up a prayer to the Source for the souls of their lost friends, and they left the tower, trailing down to the bottom of the stairs.
When Magician Clement finally arrived, Quint made to open the door to the corridor and lead them all out.
‘Hold fast, young man!’ cried Clement as he hobbled forward holding Mahra’s arm. ‘I am afraid we have a problem. One of my gifts is to sense the presence of Chaos. Sometimes, as with that knife, I must be close, other times as now, I can sense the presence from some distance away.’ He sighed. ‘I’m sorry to say that there is a demon in the academy, and it must be that it searches for us.’
****
Belial sat, as his rank demanded, higher than anything else, human or demon, on a platform made from a hastily cut-down table. Beside him to his right, stood Matheus Hawk and to his left, stood a demon. The demon had simply arrived, saying nothing before moving to Belial’s side, where it now stood with its head bowed.
The room above the inn was stifling hot and Bartholomew suspected the smell that filled the air was emanating from this latest visitor. He eyed the demon from where he was crouched uncomfortably on a small wooden stool at Belial’s feet. The new demon was hooded, but Bartholomew could still make out the twisted features of a bestial face. The sound of its coarse, laboured breathing was all that broke the silence of Belial’s frequent meditations, and he couldn’t be sure, but it felt like the demon was watching him as he fidgeted uncomfortably.
Things had taken a decided turn for the worse for Bartholomew. It was only a few blissful hours ago that he had been happily without any inkling that demons actually existed, and now here he sat in the presence of two of them. One apparently, almost set to eat him and the other was a king of demons no less. He was becoming somewhat desperate to get away, but had no idea how.
Belial had been in this latest meditation for some time, with his head propped upon his hand and his face set in a slight frown of concentration. At last he came back to them, his expression turning to a broad smile that was at once both beautiful and terrifying.
‘Mr Bask, I am sure you will be as delighted as I, to know that one of my agents is closing in on this ‘rabble of Order’ even as we speak. We shall soon be able to question them and return your goods to you.’ He smiled down at Bartholomew. ‘Which of course, shall make you beholden to me, but we will discuss my fee upon completion.’ Bartholomew felt like a mouse being toyed with by some giant cat. He scowled up at the Hawk. Didn’t that fool know the trouble he had gotten them both into?
Belial’s features clouded once more as he communed with his agent. ‘Excellent, oh yes excellent,’ he murmured. ‘The prey is in sight and the game underway.’ The beautiful face split once more into a broad smile and a deep rumble of laughter erupted, echoing around the room.
Bartholomew started to feel sick again and once more sought for some means of escape.
****
‘It walks the halls now searching for us.’ Magician Clement slumped to the floor as he concentrated. ‘We will have to face it, my young friends, and I’m afraid I’m not up to facing it alone. I am already tired and wouldn’t last long. I can, however give some advice for when you do meet in battle.’ He took a deep breath. ‘Magician, do not attempt to use any magic of fire upon it, for it comes from a realm of fire and it would only enjoy the sensation. For the same reason however, it may dislike the feeling of cold.’ He gave Loras a smile of encouragement. ‘Use your staff. It will increase the power of any magic you choose to send through it, Source be true.’ Next his gaze found Tarent and Quint. ‘Do not slash at it with your swords or shoot at it with any normal arrow. Unless I am much mistaken, a demon of this kind and power has skin tougher than you could ever imagine, you will not be able to harm it.’ His features glazed over.
‘It comes closer and we have not much time. Pass me your arrows, boy, and you your knives, lad. I shall attempt to enchant them with what little energy of Order I have left, for that is the only thing I know that can stop it.’ He passed his hands over the arrows that Quint held out, as well as the knives that Pardigan produced. Each pulsed with a fierce bright blue light of Order, before returning to normal. ‘Aim for its eyes, they are its only vulnerable part.’ He held Quint’s arm. ‘ I know there are precious few arrows here, fighter, but would you humour a very old man and allow me to keep one?’ Quint nodded his agreement and the old man smiled his thanks. With an effort he pulled himself to his feet. ‘It is time to meet it.’ He held the gaze of each in turn. ‘Are we ready?’ He saw the group of young anxious faces around him, these heroes of the balance, and added a small prayer.
‘May we be blessed today with courage and with skill,
May our luck hold true,
And may the Source preserve us all.’
‘The Source,’ they echoed in return, raising their weapons.
Quint threw open the door.
****
Chapter 10
To Battle A Demon
The glow globes were first into the corridor, closely followed by Quint and then Tarent. Light from the globes’ movement sent a confusion of shadows dancing on the walls and doors to either side. The crew watched nervously as a large dark shape about halfway down slowly came into view, the globes' dim light gradually exposing the demon’s features. It was huge. Its head almost touched the ceiling and its massive shoulders were brushing the walls to either side, dragging plaster and old hangings down as it lumbered forward. It was completely black except for the deep red smouldering glow of its eyes, which were set above large flaring nostrils. Pardigan pushed through to join his friends. His first thought on getting a good look at the creature, was that it resembled the features of a giant bat freshly drawn from the worst of fevered nightmares. Wings could be seen above its shoulders, folded now, but flexing from time to time as it crunched along the bone-strewn corridor towards them.
One taloned hand held a long, heavy blade that dripped an evil, pungent mixture in a steady green flow; the sticky goo hissing as it landed in sticky lumps onto the floor. The other hand was empty, but was flexing, ready to rip and tear at anything that came close. As it approached, it opened its mouth and let out an ear-splitting screech, almost deafening them with its intensity. Without hesitation, Tarent strode forward to meet the creature, closing the distance between th
em quickly, his twin blades unsheathing in a blur.
Quint watched Tarent’s attack and strained to draw his bow back before quickly letting fly two arrows - the first bounced from the creature’s head, a little above its left eye, the second was snatched from the air and flung to the ground in contempt. The demon lurched into action, its huge sword swinging high and Tarent quickly found himself being pushed back into the others. Unable to do much against the creature’s sheer size and strength in such a narrow space, he battled to keep fear, as well as the demon at bay.
Mahra, now in the form of the Black Panther, ran forward and leapt using her weight and speed to push the thing back. In the confines of the corridor it wasn’t possible for them all to charge at once, so Tarent and Mahra fought from the front with the others striking from behind. Mahra was really unable to do little more than distract it; her claws doing no damage even when she was able to strike at it. Magician Clement had been whispering to Loras who now also joined in sending spears of ice flashing at the demon from the tip of his staff. The demon screamed in pain as ice spears struck and then enveloped it. Enraged, it broke the ice and struck out making Mahra leap back with a yelp as the black blade carved a path along her side, peeling her skin back with a deep red flow of blood. She sobbed in pain and fell whimpering, as Magician Clement shuffled to her side attempting to find a little more energy to heal her.
Light from one of the globes briefly lit further back down the corridor. Pardigan snatched the opportunity and place-shifted behind the demon. He immediately turned and sent electrical charges into its back that struck with loud cracks sending sparks flying, diverting its attention, forcing it to turn and try to swipe at him. As it did so, he sent a knife spinning into the demon's face.
‘Eat that!’ he screamed in triumph as the blade entered the demon’s eye, striking with a meaty thunk before sinking to the hilt. It howled and snarled in agony as it faced him, enraged, half blind and seeking revenge. The knife fell from its eye and black blood and gore oozed down its cheek as it ran towards him screeching.
From behind it, Quint fired arrows while Loras continued to cast spells, freezing the air around the demon's feet to hinder its movement. It stumbled but didn’t fall as it continued its assault on Pardigan. Tarent moved back in and stabbed repeatedly at its back trying to make it turn around, then Pardigan let fly his second knife. Before it could find its mark it was snatched from the air and flung back at him with demonic force. It struck him in the leg and he collapsed to the floor with a scream of agony. Forcing himself not to be beaten by the pain, he glanced up, and then pushed himself back from the evil vision lumbering towards him. Fear entered his soul like a blade of ice.
Sensing at least one of its prey was now vulnerable, the demon closed in for the kill, bringing its sword up for a stabbing stroke to Pardigan’s head. The sword destroyed the ceiling on the upward stroke, showering the demon with plaster, and then swept down meeting nothing but air, exploded into the tiled floor of the corridor as Pardigan place-shifted back to his friends.
Snarling and shrieking in frustration, the demon spun around shaking its head as Quint let loose another volley of arrows. Raising an arm it managed to deflect most, yet one got through and struck it heavily in the same eye socket as Pardigan’s knife. Its scream almost deafened them, yet it continued to stagger forward, forcing the group to bunch against the tower door.
They knew that if they retreated into the room, they were doomed. They would never all make it up the staircase, not with both Mahra and Pardigan wounded; they had to make their stand here and now.
Out of arrows at last, Quint drew his sword and leapt forward alongside Tarent and for a few moments they drove the huge beast back. It then appeared to gain new resolve, as if goaded forward by some unseen presence, and began to press them even harder.
The arrow imbedded in the bloodied eye-socket was hissing and spluttering as black blood flowed over the glowing blue shaft. The demon was dying, but it wasn't happening fast enough. Its new attack sent Tarent spinning and one of his blades clattered to the stone floor. Sensing victory once again, the demon roared and moved forward. A clawed foot struck Tarent in the chest throwing him backwards into Pardigan's arms.
Quint blocked its advance, facing the beast alone. His sword flashed as he repeatedly struck the demon, with all his failing strength. If victory was to be decided upon skill and courage, then Quint would have triumphed again and again; yet skill and courage simply weren’t enough. His blade bounced from the demon’s skin doing little more than delaying the inevitable blow that would fell the tiring fighter. It wasn’t long before he was staggering, fighting exhaustion as well as the demon. Unable to do much more than deflect the demon’s attack and make a half-hearted defence. Sensing triumph at last, the demon rose to its full height, its head brushed the ceiling and plaster fell about it as it uttered a screech of triumph and advanced on Quint, its black blade poised to deliver the killing strike.
Staring up at the towering figure, Quint lifted his sword for what he knew would be the final time; and then time seemed to freeze. A robed figure dashed from behind him and leapt up at the demon.
Magician Clement was clutching the arrow Quint had given him and, using the force of his own momentum, he drove the arrow deep into the demon’s remaining eye. It cried a long agonised scream that echoed down the corridor into every part of the old Academy and finally fell down, dead. But as it fell, its heavy sword fell with it, striking the old magician a mortal blow, cutting him deeply from the shoulder down into his chest. He fell silently to the floor.
The Griffin’s crew witnessed this final scene in a helpless daze with tears coming unbidden. Mahra changed back into a girl and ran forward to cradle the old man’s head in her lap. She stroked his long white hair and carefully wiped the demon’s blood from his face.
‘Oh, Magician Clement, you shouldn’t have done that. It was the bravest thing I’ve ever seen, you saved us all.’
The old man’s eyes opened and he tried to speak, his words coming in a soft whisper. ‘Do not confuse courage with necessity, my dear. When a person only has one choice, it's not just a matter of bravery. I simply did what we all did. I did all that I possibly could. You gave an old man the chance to do battle with evil and I thank you all for that.’ He peered around him and coughed, blood dribbling from the corner of his mouth. ‘It’s been a very strange day,’ he glanced back at Mahra and smiled. ‘Thank you for waking me, Mahra, thank you for today.’ The magician’s pale blue eyes fluttered and he died in her arms, the soft smile still upon his lips as she hugged him to her chest, weeping gently.
****
Belial leapt from his chair with a roar, his face no longer a beatific picture of calm.
‘Children!’ he kicked out, sending Bartholomew scuttling back to lean against the wall. ‘Children and an old man stand against a demon lord…and triumph? How is this possible?’ He paced the room attempting to regain some control. ‘You!’ he pointed to Matheus Hawk. ‘Take the fat one and journey by sea. Find them and follow them, learn of their movements. I shall ride with my brethren and meet with them personally. It is time for us to end this farce for I tire of the game.’ He stopped and took a deep breath to gather himself. ‘The time of Chaos is almost upon us. They will not be allowed to thwart what has always been written in the halls of time. The world has turned and will soon belong to my people; it is our time, for the balance has rightly swung to our favour. We hunger for the feast that has been promised us and no mere gaggle of children will stop us.’
Matheus Hawk needed no further prompting. Grabbing Bartholomew by the collar, he half dragged him out of the door as the demon continued to rant. The pair made their escape down the stairs and pushed roughly through the drinking hall, eager to be out of Blake’s and into the fresh air. Once on the waterfront Bartholomew dropped thankfully to his knees, sucking in air noisily while trying to make some sense of what was happening to him.
‘Are...you...in...sane?’ h
e gasped, staring up at Matheus’s white face. ‘You have us in league with a Source damned demon!’ He climbed to his feet, only to be slapped down again by Matheus.
‘You keep a civil tongue, you fat fool. I’m well aware of our little problem in there, but events got out of control. The demons are on the same path as us, so we have nothing to fear from them, at least not at the moment we don’t.’
‘Nothing to fear!’ squealed Bartholomew only to be silenced with a look from Matheus. ‘Well I want nothing more to do with any of this. I’m the victim here, but I’ll not deal with demons to get my property back.’ He started to walk away, only to be stopped by Matheus’s laughter.
‘Are you really that stupid? You’re involved all the way, my friend. We have to get your trinkets back and destroy any link between us and that demon, the book, the knife and whatever else there is. He’s hunting those children; you don’t want to be next on his list, do you?
‘Do you have a boat, Mr Bask, because it looks like we’re going sailing, and that would be easier if we had a boat, would it not?’
Bartholomew's lip began to quiver, he was crestfallen, he’d been delighted to be out of that room and hadn’t even minded Mr Hawk handling him so roughly, just as long as he was leaving. Now he was being told he had to continue, and to sea no less. Bartholomew had never once taken to sea and he wasn’t excited by the prospect now.