Spirit Past (Book 8) (28 page)

Ansas considered teleporting away, but it was pointless. He could only run so far. If Reiculf didn't find him, Baannat would. The best alternative was to die in battle. He prepared a spell of alteration that would enrage Gnafil when he arrived. He believed demon fire would be the quickest and least painful of the possible alternatives.

Macheve knew exactly what the sorcerer planned, but she only sneered at the attempt. She wouldn't let the sorcerer escape punishment. She would deliver Ansas to Reiculf personally, but first, she had a surprise for them all, a surprise that would please her master and bring pain to the city that had sheltered the daokiln's foes.

"You've managed to keep the inferns alive longer than I expected, but it doesn't matter. You never had a chance. I allowed it to continue only so you could build up your hopes. I could have brought the darowks down at any time. Do you see?"

Macheve pointed behind her.

Another infern minion waited silently in the shadows. Once the serp revealed the third half-demon's position, it began to glow. Its black armor contained the heat, but its pale face turned white hot. In a flash of burnt amber, the half-demon took flight and soared past the shocked party of humans and elves.

In but a heartbeat, it landed well away from them all but in the midst of two human patrols. The soldiers, heavily armed, fell upon the creature without hesitation. The infern refused to fight back. It allowed itself to be hacked to pieces. The orange glow of its magic grew brighter until it flared out from the half-demon's body. The infern turned dark.

High over the city, the fireball exploded. A cloud of gray smoke billowed outward to cover the blue sky and blot out the midday sun. The dark haze swirled violently and a vast array of horrific shadows began to break free from the gloom. The smoke grew thicker and the city was covered in a darkness bleaker than any stormy night. The shadowy creatures stirred themselves into a greater frenzy until a wave of demons descended upon every corner of the city.

"What is happening?" Scheff asked.

Haven wished she did not have to witness it herself, might have even believed that Scheff's blindness was a blessing, but she could not hide from her responsibility. Death, or worse, was at their doorstep, and she couldn't leave Scheff guessing about their seemingly inevitable fate.

"An infern was killed... a third one, one we did not know about. It was killed by human soldiers and the darowks witnessed it all. They are enraged and have broken through the gateway. Even now, they are filling the sky, but they have also begun their descent. Waves of smoke demons are cascading down all over the city."

She left it at that, didn't feel it was necessary to invoke further images of the horrible scene unfolding before her. It was difficult enough to watch. Trying to describe it would only serve to crush what was left of her spirit. The sight of near shapeless demons rushing across the sky dimmed the brightness that normally glistened from her own body. The golden magic of her essence sank deeper into her core as she recoiled from the vision of hopelessness.

The darowks, demons defined more by smoke than by solid substance, swept through the streets like dry leaves pressed forward in heavy winds. More and more dropped from the sky, an unending flow of anger and hate directed at the city of humans. A cloud of shadow expanded overhead like a billowing thunderstorm. The all enveloping darkness was deeper than the coming of night, and it fell upon the streets in an unyielding approach of sheer anguish.

The drifting demons engulfed entire sections of Connel, blanketed not just the roads and alleys, but every structure as well. They passed through the smallest cracks and down the thinnest pipes. They entered every locked room, falling upon any human they could find. Swirling in fury, the demons shrouded their victims with the overpowering hate of their essence.

Once seized, the citizens of Connel found themselves engulfed in darkness. They could not see, or breathe, and reality swirled into a haze of dark gray smoke. There was no physical form they could fight against. They could not punch or wrestle the demons bent on suffocating them. They could only run.

They managed to break free, for the demons lacked the substance to take hold of their victims. People rushed out of their homes, raced away from the ever encroaching clouds of gloom. They found momentary hope, but it would not last for long. While they could escape to free air, they could not run forever, and the areas of sanctuary were quickly diminishing.

The plumes of choking haze followed their prey, even as a widening ring of spinning shadow encircled the city. The darowks were relentless in both their pursuit and their search. They swept through every attic and every basement, across every back alley and side street. They swarmed over Connel with the single craving to punish the humans for killing one of their own.

Scheff heard the screams. They raged out from all over the city, soul rendering cries of absolute terror. The shrieks turned to coughs, and then gasps. He could hear hundreds of Connel's residents choking on the sooty bodies of the darowks.

"How far are they from us?" Scheff asked, more out of curiosity than fear. He believed he could determine the distance by the echoes of the human coughs, but he wished to be certain.

"They are still several of these city streets away. They are moving towards us, but slowly. It appears they are more inclined to cover other sections, flowing much more quickly to the north and east."

"They are leaving us until last," Scheff noted.

Haven agreed but said nothing.

Once the darowks descended upon the city, Ryson, Jure and Dzeb abandoned any need to protect the half-demon in the crossroads. There was no sane reason to continue their watch. The smoke demons had entered Uton and another infern's death wouldn't add to Connel's plight. The three moved toward the party of elves to find Enin and Ansas arguing over their next move.

"We can't just stand here!" Enin growled.

"You wish to attack the serp?" Ansas questioned. "Alone you have no chance."

"Then we have to work together."

"By all means, let us combine our energy, exhaust ourselves and allow Gnafil the opportunity to confine us the moment he arrives."

"So we do nothing?"

Ansas grimaced. He did not wish to submit, but he could find no answer in the surrounding mayhem. Each time he glared at Macheve, the serp smiled at him, dared him to attack. He knew Reiculf wanted him to squander his energy, but if they waited, their situation would only worsen. Gnafil would appear at any moment. When both of Reiculf's slaves were in position, they would take their prey by force.

Ryson ignored the sorcerer and pleaded with Enin instead.

"The darowks are overrunning the city," the delver exclaimed. "You can sweep them away, can't you?"

"No!" Ansas intervened. "We can
not waste his power."

"Then what would you have me do?" Enin demanded. "You won't let me attack Macheve. We both know what is going to happen when Gnafil arrives. If we can't save ourselves, at least let me save Connel."

"Save Connel? You will end up destroying it! Waste your power against darowks and you guarantee the daokiln's victory. Once you are under Reiculf's control, what will he have you do to the city? Will it comfort you to save Connel from smoke demons only to destroy it under your own boot?"

Enin shook his head in both sorrow and disgust. He could no longer argue with the sorcerer. He turned his attention directly to the serp.

"Macheve! You want me? Take me. I will submit, but you must promise to spare the city."

The serp laughed, and though she conveyed the daokiln's wishes, Reiculf had receded into her deeper consciousness, allowed Macheve to take the reigns of battle. She spoke in her own hypnotic voice.

"I will have you whether you submit or not, and I will make no deals with you, even to gain your willing surrender. There will be no mistakes this time."

"You see?" Ansas questioned. "They are prepared for us."

Enin remained at a loss. His city was being overrun while Macheve refused to initiate any direct assault. The wizard possessed the power to obliterate an army of monsters, but he stood helpless on the darkened street.

While Enin struggled with uncertainty, Jure lashed out with frustration.

"So we just give up and die?" the older wizard intervened.

"There is a great difference between doing something idiotic and waiting for an opportunity." Ansas stated harshly. "If you would rather actively seek death, go right ahead."

Jure's emotions boiled over, but he did not focus his wrath upon the sorcerer. A circle of pure white magic rose up over his head and with one great heave, he thrust a wave of force directly at the serp.

Macheve did not move. Three distorted and colorless rings emerged from her own body and met the wizard's attack before it reached her. The blast shook the surrounding buildings as dirt and debris exploded at the point of impact.

Jure would not relent. He cast another spell, but this time his ring of pure white turned a deep blue. A torrent of water strong enough to crush rock erupted from the ground in the form of a geyser. The wizard deftly directed the gushing flow toward Macheve, and it poured down upon the serp like a mighty hammer.

Macheve barely raised a finger, but the colorless magic bent to her instructions. The water turned to steam before it reached her, and the hot vapor hissed violently up into the sky.

Enin attempted to join in the fray, but Ansas grabbed him.

"Let him attack on his own," the sorcerer whispered firmly. "It may be our only chance."

"No! We all have to help him. Maybe we can break through her defenses."

"The serp is not the threat," Ansas maintained, still in a whisper. "If she was, she would have just taken you. No, there is something else at play here."

"Something else?"

"Ask yourself this; why hasn't Gnafil appeared?"

"What?" Enin asked, clearly baffled by the question.

"Gnafil!" Ansas repeated. "He should be here. Macheve can see us, which means Reiculf is aware of our position. The half-demon could have teleported to this spot in an instant. We should be caught between both his pawns, but we are not."

Enin looked down both ends of the street, but there was no sign of the infern. Ansas was correct. Gnafil wouldn't have to follow the teleportation trail. With Macheve aware of their location, the half-demon could enter the battle without delay. If Reiculf wanted to place them in a vice of his power, he had the opportunity, but for some reason, they faced only one of the daokiln's slaves.

"Maybe it's the mistake we hoped for," Enin wondered aloud.

"Reiculf would not make this kind of mistake. This is a deliberate action. He
wants
us to attack Macheve."

"But I thought that was your plan... to fight just one of them. We have that opportunity now."

"Not when that's what Reiculf wants us to do! Something is wrong here. He is giving us false hope... or maybe he is biding for time." Ansas gazed back over the streets to the south and considered the smoky shadows engulfing the city. "This may be more about the darowks than us."

"Why would he bother?" Enin demanded.

"I don't know!" Ansas growled, his voice growing louder with his frustration. He quickly gathered himself and returned to a lower tone. "I'm trying to understand it, but it makes no logical sense. I'm only certain we should not give Reiculf what he wants, and he's goading us into a battle with Macheve. Better to let Jure lash out and conserve our strength."

Ryson, with his keen hearing, heard the whispers. He considered what he could offer. He had wondered if he should attempt to distract Macheve. He knew he could run circles around the serp, but he wasn't sure that would help their cause.

If Ansas was right, Reiculf wanted diversions, perhaps needed time for some other diabolical ploy. Entering the clash without a clear objective was a mistake, and a mistake against a daokiln was not one that could be easily overcome.

More than ever, Ryson felt vulnerable simply standing still. It was not natural for any delver, but the conflict was a magical battle, a fight on a scale well beyond his skills. He wondered if he even belonged there, a misgiving that seemed to grow until he saw the cliff behemoth.

Dzeb did not move. The giant stood stone still, silently watching the battle. The behemoth could have used his enormous strength to break apart the surrounding buildings and throw walls of rock and wood at the serp, but he remained detached from the fray, as if waiting for some spiritual guidance.

The cliff behemoth's behavior mystified the delver. He wondered if Dzeb was waiting for Godson to save Connel, or simply accepting the presence of evil which was so prevalent in the land. Ryson believed either prospect was just as possible, but that only made the behemoth's behavior even more confusing. He could not comprehend how such a powerful being could surrender himself to the whims of a faith that seemed so contradictory.

When Dzeb initially arrived at Ryson's home, the giant said he was there to retrieve him because it was Godson's will. Ryson could not accept that reason alone, as he did not share the same convictions. He looked for something more, and he had found it.

Back in the armory of Burbon, his path had been set. He had received direction from the Sword of Decree. That message had rang clear, and recalling it, he no longer doubted whether or not he should be there. He was prepared to fight against evil, and though he had no idea how to battle the daokiln, he believed he had a way to attack the darowks.

"I'm going after the smoke demons," Ryson whispered after moving to Enin's side, and then he looked to Ansas to emphasize his beliefs. "You said it didn't matter what I did, whether I came with you or not, but my sword told me to go to Connel. I'm supposed to be here. You do what you have to in order to stop Macheve. I'll take care of the darowks."

#

Neltus sat alone in the corner of the Borderline Inn. In the middle of the day, not many residents of Burbon were looking to spend time in a tavern, especially one that the ill-mannered wizard had established as his home. Even though he curbed his outlandish antics and juvenile behavior, most of Burbon's citizens were still not ready to accept him as one of their own.

The wizard didn't really hold it against them. He was more concerned with his own mixed feelings. He was exceedingly grateful to be left alone in Burbon, even happier not to be in Connel. He believed Ansas was right. He was certain that Enin's city would become a war zone, and he wanted no part of a fight with Reiculf.

He felt extremely safe in Burbon. He wasn't sure why. He heard stories, of course, tales of the dead captain returning in spirit form to protect the town. He had left Burbon before the thrastil attacked, so he never saw the warrior ghost. He knew it was possible, he had experienced far stranger things in his travels. Demons, spirits, magic; it was all becoming so common across Uton.

Despite the aura of security, he remained an outsider, and that same protective spirit might turn on him if he brought any mischief to Burbon. He was warned to behave, but he didn't know if he could. He wondered how long he could bury his tendencies to cause trouble. Would boredom spark an error in judgment, or would his arrogance lead to an irrevocable mistake?