Defiler

by Isaac Hooke

  “I have some new mounts for you,” Malem said.

  “Let me guess, those creatures that are bolting ahead,” Brita said.

  “Probably more likely the ones remaining behind,” Mauritania commented.

  Most of the six-legged iguanids were indeed running away, having spotted the party, but the seven he had Broken remained behind. Malem called them.

  “Who needs horses, when you travel with a Breaker!” Gwenfrieda commented.

  As the Broken creatures approached, Malem tightened his grip on the horses to ensure they wouldn’t bolt.

  When the reptiles arrived, Malem chose one and mounted it. He wrapped his thighs tightly around the midsection of the beast, and wedged his knees between the fore and middle leg pairs.

  He ordered the animal forward. It wasn’t much different from riding Bounder.

  The others were able to mount them with relative ease, after following his example—at least once he had the creatures lower their bodies as close to the ground as possible.

  “These things are icky,” Gwenfrieda said after mounting.

  “Feel free to walk on foot,” Malem said.

  She didn’t reply to that.

  When everyone had mounted, including Xaxia and Timlir on the mounts they had brought with them, Malem ordered the lizards forward.

  The creatures were able to traverse the rocky terrain with ease, thanks to webbed feet whose thin leathery membranes yielded readily to the jagged surface below, and reshaped themselves to suit the contours of the different rocks. The reptiles moved at a speed that required the horses to switch to a canter. Because of their versatility, Malem had some of the lizards travel alongside the main trail, next to the horses, rather than restricting them solely to the path of crushed rock.

  He reached out, but couldn’t sense any other beasts out there, except for the other reptiles that had fled.

  In about twenty minutes the party passed close to a cave entrance. The path looped away from that dark, ominous cave, before continuing at the same level further on, as if the creatures that had formed this trail were afraid to get too close to the entrance.

  “We’re here,” Goldenthall announced. “Banvil is inside.”

  Malem sensed nothing from the cave with his beast sense.

  He instructed his reptilian mount, and those of the others, to kneel.

  He dismounted. “Let’s go then.”

  Goldenthall had also dismounted, but he stopped Malem with a hand. “No. You must go alone.”

  “Why?” Malem asked. “So that Banvil can better ambush me?”

  Goldenthall shrugged. “If you want to risk the others becoming possessed like me, then go for it.”

  Malem pursed his lips, considering that. “No. The rest of you stay.”

  “I’m going,” Gwenfrieda said.

  “As am I,” Xaxia chimed in.

  Malem shook his head. “No, Goldenthall is right. This is something I must do alone.”

  Surprisingly, the women didn’t contest him for once.

  Timlir remained mounted atop Stridesfast, and nudged the pony between the beasts. “If you don’t need me, then now I must take my leave as well.”

  “Here?” Malem said. “In the territory of the one of the strongest Balors in the Black Realm?”

  The dwarf shrugged. “It’s as good a spot as any.”

  “But you didn’t even get a chance to wet your blade,” Malem said.

  “I agreed to escort you to your destination, and that’s what I did,” Timlir said. “I doubt my blade would be of use to you, not against what you face in there.”

  “Probably not,” Malem agreed. “Very well then. Go, dwarf.”

  “Come with us,” Xaxia pleaded. “You won’t find your wife. You know I’m right.”

  “I must try,” Timlir said. “I owe her this. I will spend ten years here looking for her before I am ready to leave. Only then will I give up.”

  “If you last ten years, Dwarf,” Mauritania said. “The Black Realm is no place for a creature like you.”

  Timlir patted the haft of his ax. “We’ll see, Eldritch.”

  “I’m almost tempted to stay and help him,” Mauritania said. “If only to see him fail. But I’m not in the mood to lose ten years of my life to a fool’s errand.”

  Timlir winked at her. “I’ll see you again someday. With my wife at my side.”

  “No, Dwarf,” Mauritania said. “We will never meet again.”

  On that note, Timlir led Stridesfast away across the trail, marching off into the dark twilight to meet whatever doom awaited him.

  Just as I must meet my own doom.

  Malem allowed a last dose of tranquility to pour into the pony’s energy bundle, and then released his hold over the animal’s mind, as there was no point in maintaining it.

  Malem climbed off the trail and headed across the rocky shoulder to the cave. When he arrived in front of the opening, he stared into the dark depths. He still detected nothing inside, but he couldn’t help the rising sense of trepidation he felt.

  He glanced over his shoulder at the party. The barely-restrained tension was obvious on their faces.

  Abigail, I could use one of those globes of light of yours, he sent.

  A globe appeared above him.

  Will it follow me? he asked.

  Test it out, she replied.

  He took a step forward, and the globe moved with him.

  Taking a deep breath, he stepped into the darkness.

  34

  Malem proceeded through the tight confines. The walls jutted out in places, and were jagged, so he thought the cave had formed naturally, probably when lava bubbled free from some source within the mountain.

  He still felt the women nearby, their links as strong as ever, and he was ready to call them in case something went wrong.

  The cave wound, twisting left and right as it led down into the mountain. Finally it opened downward into a large cavern.

  It was like he stood in a large amphitheater. The roof maintained its height, but the floor fell away, sloping toward a large pit below. Within that pit, he saw a black mist. It slowly swirled around a central axle, as if living, or drawn by some invisible current. It reminded him of the Darkness that had once chased him.

  “Banvil!” Malem he shouted. “I have come for you!”

  He heard nothing but a slight echo of his own voice.

  “Banvil!” he repeated.

  Still nothing. That mist didn’t respond in the least.

  He realized he could detect it with his beast sense. It felt distant. Weak.

  He reached out and tried to Break that Darkness, as he had done once before when he faced Banvil, but his will evaporated upon touch.

  Not so weak, then.

  He remembered how free he had felt when Banvil’s Darkness had fallen beneath the strong vise of his will six months ago. It felt a lifetime ago.

  I no longer control the Darkness. Instead, it controls me.

  A troubling thought.

  Malem waited, but when the Darkness made no acknowledgment of his presence, he stepped onto the sloping edges that led to the pit with plans to carefully approach. However, he promptly lost his step and plunged toward it.

  He scrabbled at the rock with his fingertips, trying to halt his descent, and finally found a handhold. He had stopped only a few yards from the pit, and the thick, dark cloud within it. The light globe had followed him down, though it did little to penetrate the Darkness that continued to slowly twirl below him, as if oblivious to his presence.

  Malem exhaled in relief and tried to pull himself higher. He found another handhold, but just then the mist began twisting and writhing in the pit, and streaks of blackness shot out toward him. Before he could escape, it had wrapped around the ankle of his boot.

  With one hand still gripping the sloping surface, he struggled to open the sack at his belt. He did so, and wrapped his fingers around the sphere inside.

  The instant he produced the obje
ct, the Darkness released him and retreated to the far side of the pit.

  “You’re afraid of this, aren’t you?” Malem said. He hefted the opalescent sphere.

  Glancing between his feet, he saw that there was a rim of sorts along the periphery of the pit. It looked wide enough to stand on.

  He released his hold on the wall, and allowed himself to slide down until he touched that rim. Then he pushed himself up with his free hand, all the while holding the pearl. He walked along the rim of the pit, and as he approached the Darkness, once more it shirked away from him.

  Malem cocked his head.

  It began to dawn on him that this mist was Banvil. He almost couldn’t believe that this was all that remained of the once great demon. But it could be no one else.

  He grinned malevolently.

  Holding that pearl in front of him, Malem walked triumphantly along the rim of the pit toward the Darkness, forcing the mist to continually retreat.

  “That’s right, I hold your life in my hands,” Malem taunted. He hefted the pearl slightly. “Such a small thing. But so deadly to you. Wendolin told me it would cause great damage to Vorgon. But for you, in your weakened state, it will kill you, won’t it?”

  In answer, the Darkness merely quivered in fear before him.

  Malem smiled widely, and then hefted the sphere over his shoulder as if to throw it.

  But something made him pause.

  As he gazed at that pathetic mass of mist before him, he remembered the way the possessed Goldenthall had glanced at the sack and smirked when Malem had fingered it during their first encounter. Had Banvil known Malem carried the elven artifact? The Balor had to. And yet Banvil had allowed Malem to come anyway. The demon risked death. Why?

  And then he had a thought.

  What if Banvil wanted to die?

  It made some sense. Malem had come here expecting to find the creature in bodily form. He was anticipating something substantial. A body, if perhaps reduced in strength and stature.

  Not this.

  It had to be the most torturous, humiliating state possible for a creature of Banvil’s former power. The demon was quite literally reduced to a mere remnant—a residue—of what it once was. If there was a way to inflict punishment or suffering on a Balor, this was it.

  Why should I give the demon the escape it so fervently desires?

  Malem lowered the sphere. “I’m not going to grant you the easy way out. I want you to suffer. To remember what you were, and what you’ve now become, a pathetic worm, crawling among the domain of other Balors, hoping for their scraps, hoping they won’t notice you. Hoping for death.” He smiled. “I wonder what Denfidal would do if the Balor found you in its domain? Maybe I should lead the demon here?”

  The Darkness quivered in terror.

  “Yes,” Malem said. “Perhaps that’s what I’ll do. An eternity of suffering awaits at Denfidal’s hands. The demon will feed you just enough stamina to stay alive, forcing you to remain in your current form for the rest of your days. Torturing you as only Balors can.”

  The mist had calmed then. It no longer trembled, or swirled in any way. It remained stock still. The sudden change disturbed Malem. He thought the Balor had made a sudden decision. One that Malem might not necessarily like.

  The mist darted toward him, risking its own annihilation. Malem was sorely tempted to release the artifact he held, but he held back, not wanting to grant Banvil the respite it desired.

  The demon is weak. It cannot dominate me.

  As the dark strands wrapped around him, he noticed the tendrils were very careful not to touch the opalescent pearl he yet carried.

  Some of that mist began to flow inside his mouth, nostrils, and ears. His eyes, too…

  He blinked rapidly, shaking his head, trying to swat aside the Darkness with one hand. Instead, the tendrils merely flow into his palm.

  He felt a rude, uninvited presence in his mind. It was fleeting, that presence, similar to the feel of a hornet’s sting, jabbing momentarily into the flesh before withdrawing, and leaving pain in its wake.

  But then the presence returned, stronger this time, and it latched on.

  Inside his head, he heard the familiar buzzing that had always come with the Darkness.

  “No,” Malem said. “I’ve escaped you!”

  Malem resisted, his fingers tightening around the sphere until his knuckles turned white. It was all he could do not to slam the artifact into the dark threads that surrounded him.

  “I will not kill you,” Malem said. “You will suffer!”

  And then he heard a familiar, deep voice in his head.

  Surrender, Banvil said. Let me enter the recesses of your mind. Give yourself fully to me, so that when you tear yourself from Vorgon’s grasp, I may fill the gaps he leaves in your consciousness. I will ensure he cannot Break you again, and that your own powers of Breaking remain when he leaves you.

  “Don’t you understand?” Malem said. “I don’t want to break free of Vorgon.”

  You fool, Vorgon has deceived you, Banvil said.

  Malem frowned. “How?”

  He intends to kill all of your women when you are dead, Banvil said. Without you to protect them, nothing will stop him.

  “He wouldn’t dare,” Malem said. “He has already let me set them free.”

  Yes, “free,” Banvil said. You still don’t understand. He will kill everything on your planet. Once he is able to tap into the spare essence reserves produced by death and destruction, he will not stop until he has all the essence of your world for himself. He will be able to hunt them down, no matter how far they run, no matter how often they hide. By doing this, you’re only dooming them to live the very life you have sought so hard to escape: running, forever running, from the Dark.

  No.

  It couldn’t be true.

  But he knew in his heart that Banvil was right.

  Vorgon would kill his women when he destroyed the world.

  It had been so obvious.

  Why didn’t Malem see it before?

  Because he was too close to Vorgon. Linked to the demon’s mind. It took traveling two realms away to finally see things clearly. That, and talking with another Balor.

  Malem refused to doom his companions to the same fate he had suffered. He wouldn’t lock them into an infinite game of hide and seek, forcing them to spend the rest of their lives running from the Darkness of Vorgon.

  “I’ve made a mistake,” Malem said.

  Yes, very much so, Banvil agreed.

  “How can I destroy him?” Malem asked.

  You are not strong enough, Banvil replied.

  “Then how can I sever our link?” Malem pressed.

  You know the way, Banvil said.

  Malem glanced at the pearl he held in his hand.

  Yes, Banvil said. The Light Pearl. Taken from our opposites.

  “Opposites?” He wondered what an opposite to a Balor would look like.

  Banvil didn’t elucidate.

  “Wendolin gave me this,” Malem said. “She told me it would cause great damage to a Balor. But she knew it would set me free from Vorgon, didn’t she?”

  Most likely, Banvil agreed. But it will also damage Vorgon enough to trap the demon in the nether realm. Assuming you can draw the creature there and get close enough to use it.

  Malem nodded. “Then that is the way forward. I must trap Vorgon in the nether realm.”

  It will be difficult, Banvil said. Vorgon’s hold on you runs deep. The moment you return, you will wonder why you thought it was a good idea to attack the demon in the first place. You are more likely to surrender the Light Pearl to Vorgon than attack with it.

  Malem felt the vise of Banvil’s will suddenly tighten around his mind, and the droning he heard in his head increased.

  We have spoken long enough, the Balor said. Give yourself to me.

  “Not yet,” Malem said, resisting still. “Xaxia mentioned a price…”

  The droning subsided, bu
t was still there, ever-present, in the backdrop of his mind.

  Ah yes, the price, Banvil said. Once you have broken free of Vorgon, I will seep into the abandoned cracks and crevices of your mind, preventing any Balor from ever Breaking you again. Things will return to the way they were before I fell on the fields of Atembor.

  You will have full control of your mind, and the powers of Breaking that flow from me into you. However, because our link will become more permanent, there will come a time when you become mine fully. You see, I am too weak to exert full control over you at the moment, and will remain so for several years yet. But there will come a day when you are unable to escape my influence. When that time comes, and I have grown close to my former power, you will submit to me and become mine fully in mind and body. You will become my new vessel in your world, replacing the pathetic puppet I currently possess. I will control you every day, from the moment of waking to the time you close your eyes at night, and you will be but a spectator in your own life. This is the price.

  Malem thought of Goldenthall and shuddered.

  That will be me, one day. The Darkness will take me.

  Freedom now, for slavery later.

  It seemed a terrible price.

  But he had no choice.

  Not if he wanted to save those he valued above all else in this world.

  Still, he feared treachery of some kind. Rarely did Balors tell the full truth, in his experience.

  He brought the opalescent pearl toward his body, and the Darkness in that area flowed around his arm, and the item, avoiding it. He slid the pearl inside the sack at his belt, and then lowered his arms.

  He surrendered.

  The buzzing rose in intensity.

  He would find a way to break free someday, before Banvil took control. He swore he would.

  The droning increased to a fever pitch in his head.

  Malem gritted his teeth. He couldn’t see for all the Darkness that filled his vision. It flowed inside him, entering into all openings, violating him. Everything that he was, his memories, his thoughts, his unconscious desires, all were exposed to the Balor.

  And then the Darkness vanished. The buzzing subsided.