Demonkin (30 page)

“All right,” Byn said. “Let's go get it.”

Sera clutched his hand and dragged him inside the cabin. Disheveled bunks sat unmade and muddy boot prints covered the floor. Sera didn't look at any of it. “Upstairs,” she said. “There are scrolls.”

Byn followed silently. Sera had become so powerful that he often had trouble reconciling this nigh invincible Glyphbinder with the shy, quiet woman he had grown to love. Sera was different now, and while that did not make Byn love her any less, it did make him afraid. Sera had never made him afraid before.

Byn followed her to the upper floor and four closed doors. Sera walked for the door at the end of the hall, on the right, and scribed the unlocking glyph Byn had seen many times. The door opened and Sera stepped inside.

Byn entered the room to find her unrolling a scroll on a worn desk. He rushed over and looked down at it, but while the glyph lines looked sinister and spiky, he could make no sense of any of them. Sera gasped.

“The cure,” she whispered. “I'm saved.”

Byn wanted to whoop and envelop her in a crushing hug, but they would have time for that later, once this curse no longer threatened her. “Scribe it!”

“You have to.” Sera stepped forward and pressed two fingers to his forehead. “I can't.” She sent a flash of insight directly into his mind. Bloodmenders did that.

Byn opened his eyes with a clear picture of the glyph cure they had discovered. There was something familiar about this glyph, something that tugged at his mind, but he would think on that later. Sera was going to live!

“Scribe it on the air,” Sera said, “directly between us. It will lift the Demonkin curse.”

Byn almost did that, but something stayed his hand. Why would the Demonkin leave a cure this valuable in the open, unsecured? How had Sera found it so quickly when other scrolls filled this room?

Sera wrung her hands. “Hurry!”

“Wait.” Byn had promised he would not let the Mavoureen have Sera's soul. He had sworn it to her. “Are you sure it's the right glyph?”

“Of course it is!”

“How can you know?” He glanced at the open door. “Let's show it to Kara first, to Anylus. Maybe they—”

“Byn.” Sera gripped his hands. “That execution glyph's power is drowning me. I can barely breathe.”

“You said we had until tonight!”

“I was wrong. I'm dying now.” Wet welled in her bright green eyes. “I don't want to lose you.”

This was the woman he loved, his future wife. They were going to live out their lives together, with children and horses and maybe even a dog. Byn could not watch her die. He could not let an execution glyph murder her.

He could not let a demon devour her soul.

“I kissed you in a field,” Byn whispered.

“What?” Sera blinked back tears.

“That field was the first place I kissed you, ever. Where was it?”

She didn't answer.

“Where was it, Sera? Tell me!” Byn felt his whole world slipping away as he gazed into her calm green eyes.

Sera's lips quirked. “Clever child.” Her eyes narrowed and her pupils turned stark black. “Far more clever than I'd like.”

Invisible hands snatched Byn's limbs. Those hands forced him to step back and cut his fingers open. Blood welled as the demon inside Sera bared her teeth in a rictus of a smile.

“Oh my dear, sweet child.” A voice emerged from Sera's lips, but it was not Sera's any longer. “We are going to show you such
wonderful
things.”

Byn howled as she bent his limbs and made him scribe a glyph he now recognized: the execution glyph he had scribed in Tarna's library. He was undoing it. He was removing the only way to save Sera's soul, dooming the woman he loved to eternal torture, and he couldn't stop himself.

All he could do was shake and scream.

KARA STOOD OVER JYLLITH’S BODY and hugged herself, trembling. She hated Jyllith. This evil woman had murdered Kara's great-grandmother and others, hunted people like animals. Tossed souls into the Underside. So why had stopping her genocidal plans left Kara so cold?

The brilliant golden glyphs on each pole of the south gate hurt Kara's eyes, but she scuffed whatever Jyllith had been trying to scribe and approached those posts anyway. Could she muss these glyphs as well? Kara scrubbed, but whatever Jyllith had done had seared them into the wood.

Feet shuffled behind her and Kara spun to see Adept Anylus smiling at her, smiling at the woman she had just murdered. He strolled toward her, casual as could be. The strange warm wind tugged at his red robes.

Kara swallowed and made herself not stare at Jyllith's body, at the rocky spike jutting from her chest. How could she explain this? “She was—”

“Troublesome.” Anylus waved away Kara's concern. “Now is not the time to agonize over one murder. Not when millions more stretch ahead.”

What was he talking about? The invasion? “How do we close this gate?”

“Why would we wish to close it, Kara?”

Kara felt a surge of frustration. “What's wrong with you?” Had Anylus hit his head on the way to her? Was he in shock?

“That's not the Underside behind you. And I'm not Anylus, in case you haven't figured that out yet.”

This man was a Shifter illusion, an imposter posing as Anylus. Another cultist? Kara unslung her quarterstaff and glared.

“Who are you? What have you done with Adept Anylus?”

“I consumed his soul this morning, Kara, but I lurked in his pathetic mind for decades as I guided and planned. Waited for my opportunity. Who am I? You already know.”

Kara stepped over Jyllith's body and looked for Byn, for Sera, but she faced this man alone. “I'm afraid I don't have any idea who you are. Sorry to disappoint you. Now, am I caving in your head?”

“You know me,” Anylus purred. “You fear me. Listen to my voice, Kara. Tell me who I am.”

That voice was not Anylus's voice any longer. It was deep and seductive, rich with menace. Kara stopped walking as her legs trembled, then her arms. As her heart thumped.

She had heard this voice only once before, in the Underside. It had haunted her darkest dreams since. Fear paralyzed her muscles and squeezed her aching spine.

“Paymon,” Kara whispered.

The king of all Mavoureen beamed at her. “Do you know how long I labored on my Great Home, Kara? Can you imagine the millennia of masterpieces you so casually destroyed?”

“How could you be Anylus?” Kara tried to move and couldn't.

“For weeks I have known we would stand together in this place, before this gate.” Paymon the Patriarch luxuriated in flesh that had once been Anylus's body. “I guided you every step of the way. I ensured it.”

Kara found the clarity to scribe a Hand of Heat. “You sent Jyllith here? Why? To open this portal for you?”

“I didn't even know she was here!” Paymon roared with laughter. “I actually believe Jyllith was trying to close this gate, and can you see why that pleases me? She came here to save your world, and you murdered her!”

Kara trembled so hard her staff shook. “That's not what happened!”

“Lie to yourself, if you wish, but never lie to me.” Paymon glanced over his shoulder. “You had a friend in this quaint little village. Sera, isn't it?”

Kara tried to speak but couldn't, tried to ignite her glyph but couldn't. Warm wind tugged her hair as Jyllith's corpse stared up at her, eyes blank and accusatory. Eyes still wet from crying.

“Sera's just been devoured as well,” Paymon said, ever so casually. “My demon queen ripped her apart for your sins, shredded Sera's shrieking soul, and she will do that again, every day, for eternity. Your dearest friend will exist forever in agony. Does that make you angry?”

“Liar!” Kara took the dream world again as shock burned off and rage took over. She ignited her Hand of Heat, determined to erase Anylus's possessed body before Paymon could grow any stronger.

Invisible hands grabbed her, something Kara had never felt before. They drove her to her knees and wrenched her arms out to her sides. Pain pulsed like a million tiny ants chewing through her skin, and Kara wondered then if this was how Ona had felt every night of her disease.

Kara couldn't move, couldn't even scream, as Paymon sauntered toward her without a care in the world. Anylus's eyes melted, glowing yellow. He knelt before her in Anylus's puppeted body.

“Who else might come to save you?” Paymon whispered. “Your mother? Your father? Do you remember the day we made that blood doll?”

Kara had summoned that doll to draw off her father. How could Paymon know about that unless her father was coming to save her? Was Xander fighting his way into Knoll Point right now?

“That doll led your father and mother into a bog.” Paymon lifted her chin with Anylus’s chill fingers. “They call it the Dead Bog, and Balazel waited inside it. What do you suppose he did to them?”

Kara felt reason fleeing from her mind and could not allow that to happen. Paymon was lying. He was lying about everything and she had to break free of his grip.

”You've betrayed your king, murdered your parents, and let your friends all die, but all that pales against my crowning stroke.” Paymon spun his finger so Kara spun in those invisible hands, staring at a field of wheat between two glowing wooden poles. “The Alcedi are coming.”

Cantrall had not been able to shut up about his Alcedi. Cantrall had been a liar as well, yet this world of green sky and shifting wheat looked so real, so inviting, so pure. So unlike the Underside she remembered.

“The Alcedi are very real, Kara, and my servants just opened the gate that will admit them to your world.” Paymon ran Anylus's thumbnail along Kara's face, splitting her cheek like she once split her fingers. “They will enslave your world and erase your souls.”

“Stop this,” Kara whispered. “Please, stop.” Her will broke as she surrendered to despair, as she
believed
the demon king. Her eyes watered and her stomach clenched.

“Ask me again,” Paymon whispered in her ear. “Beg me to stop this. I want to hear you beg.”

“I'll do anything.” Tears filled Kara's eyes as she wondered what Jyllith must have felt, just before Kara murdered her. “Please. Take me to the Underside. Tear me apart. Don't punish a whole world for something I did.”

“But that's the point, Kara. That's the thrill of it! I don't want to kill you. I want you to despair as everything and everyone you've ever loved burns!”

Soldiers in golden armor strode from the fields. Their helmets resembled those of Tellvan soldiers, with a conical top and Y shaped slit in front, yet these helmets were far more ornate than any Kara had ever seen. Each carried glistening silver swords and nothing held their armor together but light. They were beautiful ... and terrifying.

“This is the price of your defiance,” Paymon whispered on the wind. “This is the end of everything you love.” The demon king's laughter filled Kara's broken mind as he locked her, prostate, before the portal. “Savor it.”

He left her alone with golden monsters.

TRELL AND ABADDON reached Pale Lake as an orange sun lit a morning sky. Trell could not walk — his legs had frozen up the night before — and Abaddon carried him in its massive arms. The Mavoureen giant was gentle, and Trell was too far gone to care about dignity now.

He had been in and out of consciousness for most of their walk, breathing and dreaming fitfully, and while he had thought to dream of Kara, dreams of Marabella came to him instead. The dead wife he could not remember. A woman he loved desperately.

Trell had dreamed of the children he and Marabella would never have, the life they would have shared if Cantrall's revenants had not slaughtered her and everyone else he knew. Sent him to war. Drowned him in the Layn.

Abaddon stopped as they came within sight of the lake. The big armored demon placed him on the ground and Trell shivered, helpless. His arms felt frozen as well now, ice cloaking his bones inside and out.

“Need a break,” Abaddon rumbled.

Abaddon was lying. It did not tire. This Mavoureen general was stubborn, still hoping Trell's illness might kill him before they reached Paymon. This demon had slaughtered hundreds of innocent people, and it was wrong that Trell was actually starting to
like
it.

He stared at Pale Lake as a woman walked its surface, walked across the smooth lake as if it were frozen solid. She wore a plain white dress that shone in the morning sun, and for a moment, Trell thought she might be Life. His pulse quickened. Had Life come to save him?

Trell made himself move, shattered the ice surrounding his bones and gritted his teeth through the pain. He stood. He waited. Would Abaddon see the woman? Would he try to murder her?

The woman vanished.

Trell stared at the still lake, searching for Life. For salvation. She appeared ... right in front of him. Trell shouted and tumbled backward, thrashing his limbs as he stared at Abaddon in blind terror.

Sera. This woman was Sera, and Abaddon was going to slaughter her. He couldn’t do anything to stop it!

“Abaddon,” Sera cooed, yet it was not Sera's voice. “How have you been?”

Trell heard armor creak. He turned to find Abaddon kneeling, sword tip buried and armored head bowed. “Mistress Hecata,” it rumbled.

Trell saw then that Sera's green eyes had vanished, replaced by black orbs, and her white teeth made a cruel grin. Trell pushed at dirt as he tried to get away from her, from this abomination that was
not
Sera. She smiled.

“You'd be Trell,” Hecata said. “Life's Champion.”

Her voice was low, lusty, and it drove Trell to thoughts that made him want to slit his own wrists. He glared at the demoness instead. “What have you done to Sera?”

Hecata laughed a beautiful laugh. “Our bargain is now complete. Sera drew upon my power and now I draw upon hers. Fair's fair.”

“You devoured her soul.” Trell shuddered.

“Call it what you like.” The demoness waved off his concern. “That naive little girl is the least of your worries now. The Alcedi are here. They've come for your world and I do not intend to let them take it.”

Abaddon stood. “Mistress?”

“Don't worry, general. I haven't gone soft.” Hecata leaned over Trell. “My quarrel with the Alcedi remains nothing but devoted self-interest.” She extended Sera's slim hand. “Take my hand, Trell.”

Trell glared and trembled.

“Take my hand,” Hecata
commanded
.

Trell clutched Sera's hand with all the effort he could muster. Hecata pulled him to his feet easily, monstrously strong, and words from her compelled anyone. This was a demoness beyond measure, queen of the Underside, and she was here. Holding his hand and smiling at him.

“Paymon has betrayed us.” Hecata turned to Abaddon. “Traitors rule no kingdom. Paymon is no longer our king.”

Abaddon did not move. It did not speak.

“Abaddon?” Hecata said. “Paymon conspired with our enemies against Mavoureen laws, against all logic. He aided the Alcedi's conquest because he knew Torn barred our armies from this world. Paymon ceded a world of souls to our ancient enemy simply to
spite
Kara Honuron.”

“I cannot believe that,” Abaddon rumbled.

“Of course you believe it.” Hecata walked past Trell and stared up at Abaddon, a tiny figure before his armored bulk. “You know his obsessions. Paymon is no longer the master of the Mavoureen. I am.”

Abaddon towered over her.

“Kneel, General Abaddon,” Hecata whispered, voice thick and eager. “Kneel to your new
queen
.”

Abaddon took a knee, head bowed and sword tip buried. One move from it could crush Hecata where she stood, and for one terrible moment, Trell wished Abaddon would do that. Even though this was Sera's body.

“Denounce Paymon,” Hecata said, “or I will unmake you where you kneel.”

“I swear,” Abaddon rumbled. “Paymon is no longer my king. I am yours, mistress, now and forever.”

“How wonderful!” Hecata spun on Trell. “Listen to me carefully, mortal. You still carry the power of Life inside you. You are still her champion.”

“That's not possible.” Trell hated himself as he waited for her next command. “Cantrall banished Life.”

Hecata
tsked
at him. “You humans are such fools. No mere
man
could banish the Five. Cantrall simply buried them inside you. By channeling the Mavoureen through his blood, he scribed a glyph that suppressed the Five.”

“Truly?” Trell almost dared believe it.

“You doubt the ruler of the Underside?” Hecata shoved her hand
through
his chest, digging and pulling with phantom fingers. “Feel it for yourself.”

Hecata's fingers worked inside him, twisting, turning, pulling, and the agony left Trell howling. Finally, she ripped her hand free and Trell dropped to his knees, certain she had just ripped out his heart.

Yet his heart beat, and his lungs pumped, and his ribs held. A strength he barely remembered gushed through his chest. Ice crackled down Trell's legs, his arms, covered his chest and head.

A giant icy greatsword appeared in his hand as he stood without effort, without pain. He had forgotten what that felt like, standing without pain. He felt like he could take on an enemy army now.

“Trell,”
Life whispered.
“Can you hear me?”

Stubborn hope surged inside Trell.
“You've returned?”

“I never left.”
Life was immortal and she sounded frightened, and that made Trell frightened too.
“The others are still trapped inside their champions and Kara is in danger. Our whole world may fall to the Alcedi.”

Trell raised his icy greatsword. Abaddon stepped in front of its mistress as its sword burst into lightning. The armored giant chuckled, and Trell wondered if they would have their duel at last.

“Enough!” Hecata
commanded
. Both Trell and Abaddon stepped back, lowering their blades.

“I did not possess this delightful little girl so you could resume your pissing contest!” Hecata pointed at the distant village, at the column of light now rising from it. “There. The Alcedi are there.” Her lips peeled back in a rictus of a smile. “Kill them for me.”

“Hecata speaks truth,”
Life said.
“Cantrall's suppression glyph remains in Terras, in the glyphing room, and you must tell Kara. If Kara breaks that glyph, she will free us to resist both Mavoureen and Alcedi.”

“What about Sera?”
Trell thought.
“How can I just leave her here, with Hecata? Can't we do anything?”

“The Mavoureen own Sera's soul, now and forever, and we cannot free her. She is lost to us.”

Trell wanted to grieve for Sera, but he didn't have time. He wouldn't fight the Alcedi for Hecata, but he would fight them for Life, and Kara, and his world. For every person these otherworldly monsters tore apart.

“I'm going,” Trell told the Mavoureen.

“Wait,” Hecata said. “I have one other command.”

Trell ground his teeth. Hecata's compulsion was absolute yet all Trell could think of was Kara, down there in that pillar of light. Dying.

“You had an ally down there.” Hecata pointed to the town. “A young woman named Jyllith. She's dead now.”

“Why tell me?”

“Because she was supposed to stop this.” Hecata clenched Sera's fists. “I could not oppose Paymon openly ... not until he actually betrayed us ... but I sent that girl to stop him, stop this. She failed me, died uselessly as mortals do, but Jyllith knows how to close that Alcedi gate. Tell Kara. Tell her to speak to Jyllith's soul.”

“Fine,” Trell said. “Can I go kill the Alcedi now?”

Hecata vanished, taking with her whatever compulsion she imposed. Trell dashed down the rise toward the town and heard Abaddon's armor clattering behind him. Trell really hoped the Mavoureen wouldn't stab him in the back. He really couldn't deal with that right now.

“Life?”
Trell barreled down the hill like an avalanche.
“I'm very sick. Can you help me?”

“No. I warned you my power would change you, at Terras, when you demanded more to defeat General Abaddon. Had we not been suppressed I might have cured you, but it is far too late for that. I'm so sorry.”

“How long do I have?”

“Not long, and the others are still buried. Trapped inside their champions. Find Kara. She must set us free.”

“Kara's below?”

“In that town. Paymon has her.”

“Then I'm going to kill Paymon. Someone has to.”

Life said nothing. There was nothing else to say.

“Abaddon!” Trell shouted over his shoulder. “You still hope to duel me?”

The demon general's laughter followed Trell as they thundered down the hill. “Stop running and I'll make it quick!”

Trell charged the small town at a speed that rivaled a good horse. He would die, soon, but not before he found Kara and stopped Paymon. Not before he said goodbye.

The town looked abandoned and the small door in the west gate stood open. Trell slammed into it and widened it by a good margin, and Abaddon widened it some more. They charged together through empty streets.

An open cabin waited to the left, a closed cabin to the right. The glow stretched now to the horizon, a column of golden light rising to the sky. That rising column of light was where Kara was — Trell felt that in his frozen bones — and he charged that way.

A pair of glowing golden statues clomped from side streets, raising silver swords. Statues that moved rushed them both, statues carved like soldiers. The Alcedi.

“Do you have a plan?” Abaddon shouted.

Trell spun his sword in a wide arc and cut both statues apart. “I really thought we'd just kill them all!”

As Trell halved the golden statues he caught a glimpse of human eyes inside their T-slit helms, but then those eyes vanished. Pieces of statue clattered apart on the road, revealing their armor to be hollow, and pale smoke rose from inside. Abaddon clattered to a stop.

“So this is the best they have?” Trell kicked the remains aside and strode down the main road. “I'm not impressed.”

“Those were blessed men, fodder.” Abaddon walked beside him now, lightning sword crackling. “Peons who serve the Alcedi, worship them, and die at their spoken work. When their most devoted of followers beg to serve as thralls, the Alcedi mummify their human bodies and smelt them into golden statues.”

“Why would anyone beg for that?”

“Because when one gazes upon the face of an Alcedi, one loses one's mind and one's will. To love a golden god, you must discard everything you are and everything you ever were. These creatures have no use for
people
. You see now how our rule is preferable, don't you?”

Trell might, but he wasn't going to admit that. “You're the expert, general.” He stomped forward. “What else will they throw at us?”

“These fodder would be led by a Lord of Dawn, a golden giant twice as tall as I am. I took my blade off one I killed a millennia or so ago. That was quite the war. So many glorious battles!”

“Is a Lord of Dawn here?”

“It's likely waiting at the portal right now.”

“How about we race?” Trell asked. “That will be our duel. I've killed two Alcedi already. I'm going to kill many more and if you can outpace me, you win.”

“A race!” Abaddon sounded excited. “Really?”

“Can you defeat me?”

Abaddon roared with laughter and thrust its lightning sword to the sky. “If we slay another Lord of Dawn today, you may keep the blade!”

Trell grinned as more blessed men stumbled from every side street ahead, drawn to them by who knew what. A blinding light rose at what had been a town gate, once. Now it was a portal to another world.

That world was nothing like this one. It was a land of swaying honey wheat and a sky of brilliant green, so beautiful. It was unlike any world Trell had ever known and it looked so warm. Abaddon shattered blessed men and stomped past broken statues as Trell stared.