Black Magic (28 page)

He watched, horrified and yet fascinated, as Brekk's wings seemed to fracture and then break, falling away the same way as his horns, leaving his back a bloody mess. Brekk screamed into his robes when next his tail fell away.

Koray looked up at the sound of boots crunching in snow and saw a pale-faced Lisay. "The Goddess bid me come," Lisay said. "What in Her name …" He swallowed, moved forward, and knelt beside Brekk. His eyes swept the blood, the peeling skin. Drawing a deep breath, Lisay placed his trembling hands on Brekk's back and let his eyes fall shut as he began to chant.

The soft prayers of healing filled the air and bit by agonizing bit, Brekk grew still. Koray felt it when he slipped into unconsciousness, but did not ease his grip. By the time Lisay finished his prayers, Koray was nearly asleep again himself.

Dragging his eyes open, he looked down at Brekk. His skin was still dark, but lighter than it had been; without the claws, horns, wings, and tail he looked … human. The Goddess had restored Brekk to full humanity. "Let's get him inside," Koray said, too tired to really comprehend what had just happened. "I can't believe the others slept through this, especially Emel."

"I do not think he would have taken well to seeing this happen, even if it is clearly to the good," Lisay said as they got Brekk up, carried between them, and slowly made their way back into the tower. "If it were my lover, I would not have wanted to see it—she would not have wanted me to see."

Koray did not agree, he would prefer to be there if … if it were Sorin, but he said nothing. By the time they had settled Brekk back on his bed roll, Koray was sweaty and exhausted. Returning to his own bed, he settled down and immediately fell asleep again.

He woke stiff and sore, hazy gray light spilling across his eyes from a narrow window set high in the wall. Grunting in annoyance, Koray rolled over and pushed himself up into a sitting position. He looked around the room, but most everyone else still seemed asleep. A glance at Brekk seemed to indicate that all was well. Koray was tempted to pull the blankets away and check on him but was loath to wake him.

Walking carefully over and around the sleeping bodies filling the wide room, he threw more logs on the fire and dug through the travel stores for a breakfast of dried fruit and bread. He also found the makings of tea and carried everything back to his bedroll once the tea was prepared.

Dried apples had always been one of his favorite things, a rare treat that he usually enjoyed only when someone took pity on him and gave him food. He was halfway through his tea when the bedroll closest to his stirred. A heavy cloak was thrown aside, and Koray got his first real look at the newly-transformed Brekk. His skin was no longer black, more a dark, woodsy brown. "Good morning," he said quietly.

Brekk ignored him—or, more likely, did not hear him, completely distracted by his own changed appearance. "What …" He looked up, eyes wide. "How did this … am I really …"

"Do you not remember last night?" Koray asked.

"Vaguely," Brekk replied quietly. "Mostly I remember pain; anything beyond that is foggy." Brekk shoved the cloak entirely aside and stood up. Beside him on the floor, Emel still slept. Brekk smiled briefly, fondly, but did not wake him.

He was no less fierce as a human, still all muscle and hard angles and the mien of a man who had seen and endured much brutality. But his soft smile was there, and the clear green eyes. Koray remembered how they had glowed violet as he changed. His head was still shaved smooth, but it was a look that suited him.

"Sit down," Koray said. "I'll get you breakfast." He did not wait for Brekk to reply, simply went back to the fire and prepared two cups of tea, bringing them back with food for Brekk. "How do you feel?"

"Better. Much better. Like all the pain was just stripped off and cast aside. I don't understand how it is possible to be human again. I always assumed the transformation was permanent. Is it really so easy to stop being a demon?"

Koray's brows lifted. "What part of everything that has happened to you would you describe as easy?"

Brekk laughed. "True enough." He started to say more, but the sound of his laughter caused those around them to stir. After a moment they all settled back down, except Emel. Sitting up, he shoved hair from his face and yawned, jaw cracking. Shaking himself, he stared blearily at Koray and Brekk. Then froze, stared harder. His eyes widened. "Brekk?"

"Still me," Brekk said, sounding suddenly nervous. Emel let out a soft cry and threw himself at Brekk, straddling his lap and wrapping his arms around Brekk's shoulders, head settling in the hollow of his throat.

Koray quietly relieved Brekk of his tea and went to go make more to give them some time alone. He was not surprised when Neikirk joined him a moment later. They glanced across the room at Brekk and Emel, then looked at each other. "Do you have any idea how that happened?" Koray asked.

Neikirk spread his arms. "You corrected his energies and since then, he has been able to absorb and regenerate them properly. I suspect his body is once more changing, rejecting the transformation that was necessary for him to survive before. He is no longer a demon, so no longer needs those things a demon requires. But if you prefer, I am sure you could go with your more standard, if less sound, theory of 'the Goddess did it'." He smiled faintly.

"She's only amused that you're so stubbornly determined not to believe in Her," Koray said with the barest smile. "Trust me when I say there is no point in arguing with the woman."

Frowning, settling his monocle into place, Neikirk said, "I do not see how a woman in whom I do not believe can have any say in my life."

Koray laughed. "You do not need to believe in the Goddess for her to believe in you. If that was a necessity there would be no hope for the demons, and it would seem that all this time she never once stopped believing they could be saved. Trust in the Goddess, Neikirk. She may drive you to madness, but she will never lead you astray."

Neikirk sighed and helped him make tea.

By the time they returned to Emel and Brekk, other soldiers had stirred around them. Rosta stood among the cluster, arms folded over his chest while he listened to Emel explain Brekk's change to him and the other Navathians. None of them look very pleased by Brekk's change, but given how on edge they already were from the demon attacks and the presence of magic they had declared illegal, they were taking it rather well. He just hoped nobody snapped and they all started fighting against each other; demons were enough to worry about without the fear that everything would collapsed into Vindeia versus Navath.

Eventually Rosta raised his hands and shook his head, ending the conversation. He dispersed the soldiers with orders that Koray did not catch, and looked wary as Koray and Neikirk drew close.

"So what is our plan?" Koray asked. "I assume we are headed to the black castle? Or are we still bound for the capital."

"I've sent men ahead to the palace to convey all that has happened and your reasons for coming," Rosta said. "But I think it best if those of us who remain head to the black castle and do what we can to stop the white demons and their makers once and for all. We've had more than enough of demons and magic." He dropped his folded arms, shifting slightly, clearly on edge. "The black castle is called Castle Shade. It was the first fortress built when Navath broke from Vindeia and became its own kingdom. According to historical accounts, it was finally abandoned as a place of ill fortune, whatever that means."

"Ghosts," Koray said. "Navath has long outlawed necromancers and we can only travel so far into the country to do our work before we are thrown out again—if not simply killed. If that castle is so old, then it is probably thick with ghosts, which saturates it in negativity."

Rosta grunted. "I don't know about ghosts, but it's hardly worth arguing. The point is that it was abandoned long ago and has been seen as a place of ill fortune ever since, though no one has ever ordered it torn down. I am not surprised that they would choose to hide there to conduct their foul experiments—whoever 'they' are. We should reach it in a few hours; it's not far from here."

"Let's be off, then," Emel said and let go of Brekk's hand to start getting the men up and ready to move out.

An hour later they were on the road, fighting against snow and wind as they traveled east and slightly south. Koray shivered through the layers of his clothes, trying to warm himself with thoughts of beds and fires and mulled wine. By the time they reached Castle Shade, he was half-hoping for a fight just to have a way to warm up.

He could feel the presence of death, so strong it made him dizzy. His head began to throb as they drew closer; he could see ghosts in the fields immediately surrounding the castle. They cluttered the rotting drawbridge, crowded on the battlements, and when they finally breached the gates, Koray swayed on his horse.

At a glance, the castle seemed abandoned. There was not even smoke billowing out, and surely they had to keep warm somehow. But the paladins were restless, and after a moment, Koray mastered the overwhelming presence of death enough to feel the presence of demons as well.

"No receiving party?" Emel asked. He dismounted and drew his sword, gesturing for his men to do the same.

The group had just climbed the steps of the keep when shrieking filled the air and demons dove upon them from the broken guard towers. Men screamed and scattered. Koray threw himself off his horse, barely avoiding a demon that had flown straight at him. He rolled over in the snow, wiping it from his face as he scrambled to his feet.

He drew his sword, but instead of trying to battle the demons, he raced toward the keep, shoving and darting his way through the chaos until he finally burst through the open doorway. Koray could see Brekk out of the corner of his eye, but did not turn to look at him, just kept all of his attention in front of him.

Stepping into the keep felt like walking through a wall of steam. Koray glanced around, noticing all the runes drawn on the walls of the great hall—drawn in blood. Koray felt sick. It was black magic on a level he had never seen before, a level of magic that left him nauseous and trembling.

There were runes for warmth and light, which explained why the room was so stifling hot and yet there'd been no smoke or flames to give the alchemists away.

Alchemists, he realized, who were notably lacking. They must have released the white demons to attack and fled. Brekk moved past him and further into the keep, heading for the back door where it seemed likeliest the alchemists would have fled. "I'll find them," Brekk called over his shoulder.

Leaving him to it, Koray focused on the nightmare in front of him. The great hall reminded him of the room where Alfrey had died and been dismembered, leaving blood and gore across the floor and walls. The alchemists had turned the great hall into something worse by a hundred fold. One corner held a pile of bodies rotting in their own fluids, and he could only assume some other spell kept back the stench. Arranged in two long columns were tables to which demons and even men had been strapped. The tables were in pairs: one demon, one man, and Koray realized with growing horror that part of the process to convert the demons to vessels involved humans.

He saw the unmistakable robes of a priest on one table … and then he saw two necromancers on other tables, men he had known and even worked with. Sadness washed over, and then anger when he realized he could not find their ghosts because there were too many in the hall. The alchemists had left behind books and notes, and strange implements covered their work tables, caked in blood and other substances he did not care to identify.

There was so much blood on the floor around the tables that he could scarcely see the stones. Along the wall opposite the corpses were cages. Half were filled with demons, carefully bound and gagged. The rest of the cages were stuffed with priests, paladins, necromancers, and even alchemists.

Hot tears streamed down Koray's cheeks as the suffering, the pain, the anger of all who had suffered at the hands of the alchemists began to overwhelm him. Still more agony came from the oversaturation of ghosts, most ancient, some merely old, others new.

What he was supposed to do? How was he supposed to purify so much violence and pain?

Koray strode up to the nearest table, where a demon was still strapped down. He stared into its pain-glazed eyes. Its skin was dark gray and the runes upon its body fresh, still wet with blood. At some point its horns had been sawed off and its claws cut all the way down to leave its fingertips bloody.

The pleading look on the demon's face was impossible to ignore. Koray would have wanted the same in his place. Drawing the dagger at his waist, Koray slit the demon's throat. He waited until it died, whispering words of purification over its body.

Next to the demon on a second table, manacled to it with what looked like spelled silver, was another necromancer he had not noticed before. "Koray …" the woman whispered. Her curly hair was nothing but streaks of white and silver. She tried to speak again, but passed out. Koray studied the silver chain, reluctant to tamper with it until he understood the spell in it—and jerked away after touching it, entire body throbbing as he felt the searing burn of having his energy ripped away.

"Bastards," he hissed, wishing he could just swing a sword and break the damn things.

Instead, he turned to the smaller table that held the books and vile-looking tools and began to rifle through the mess. He nearly fell over in relief when he actually found a damn key. Unlocking the manacles, wincing when he accidentally touched them again, he wrapped them in a bit of his robe and pulled them off the necromancer's wrist. Lifting her off the table, Koray carried her away to a corner that was relatively clean.

Returning to the gruesome tables, he continued the grim duty of killing those who could not be saved and carrying the others away. When he was done with the tables, he finally turned to face the cages. The site of so many more people left broken and afraid of further breaking made him want to give up in despair.