Read The Book of Deacon: Book 03 - The Battle of Verril Online

Authors: Joseph Lallo

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The Book of Deacon: Book 03 - The Battle of Verril (55 page)

BOOK: The Book of Deacon: Book 03 - The Battle of Verril
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“Go! Return to your darkness. Before I change
my mind . . . “ she warned.

“Your world is lost. I am quite through with
it. I was wrong about you, experiment. You are nothing but a
failure,” Demont replied.

With that he seemed to vanish, his form
replaced with a dense black smoke that coiled its way through the
portal. Ivy turned back to the fray. Just ahead of her was Ether.
She was struggling to pull her windy form together into solidity.
With a final burst of effort, she managed to assume human form. The
beasts she'd thrown aside were quickly closing in around her, even
without their master to command them. Ivy rushed to her side, madly
swinging her blades until any too foolish to back away were in
pieces on the ground.

“You . . . you saved me, didn't you,” Ivy
said, almost in disbelief, while staring down a threatening
monster.

“I did . . . what was required of me . . . as
a Chosen,” Ether replied.

“Uh huh,” Ivy said knowingly.

The ring of beasts witnessing the clash
between Lain and Bagu were wisely keeping their distance. To
outside viewers, the pair was little more than a blur of motion and
energy. One began to slow, crackling waves of energy rippling over
him. Finally Lain's energy was spent and he fell to one knee, pure
agony twisting his features. His foe slowed and stood over the
stricken hero.

“This moment has been coming since the day
you were born,” Bagu taunted, the crackling energy intensifying
with each word. “The prophesy spoke of a malthrope who would be
Chosen. On that day your kind were marked for death. I am glad I
was able to finish the task personally. Ivy will suffer. I will see
to it myself.”

Lain's sword fell from his fingers and
clutched at his arm. Bagu raised his weapon. There was a blur of
black. There was a flash of silver. The crackling slowly died away.
Lain was on his feet again, a dagger in his fist, hilt deep in the
General. The assassin heaved the stricken general to the ground and
wrenched the black blade from his stunned grasp. With a mighty
thrust he drove the weapon through Bagu's chest and into the frozen
earth beneath him.

“Fool! Weakling!” Bagu wheezed. “Have you
learned nothing!?”

Already the spell was falling back into
place.

“I cannot be defeated!” proclaimed Bagu as he
wrapped his fingers around the blade and heaved it from the earth
and out of his chest.

There was another flash of silver. The
assassin knelt and clutched the General's head, dragging it up. The
body remained where it was. Without a word he hurled the head to
the portal. There was a rush of blackness as a horrid black mist
rushed from both body and head, each coiling up through the portal
as Demont had. Lain turned. There was more work to do. The massive
white furred creature, until now merely lumbering slowly southward,
had turned and was now pounding toward Myranda. Myn had rushed to
her aid, scorching black lines across the beast, but it refused to
turn from its task. Creatures continued to flow out of the portal,
now marching in a continuous stampede over the hills to the south.
Already a black tide could be seen creeping up the slopes of the
mountains in the distance. They were heading toward the capital…
toward the rest of the world.

The earth rumbled with the constant flow of
abominations of all shapes and sizes, and thumped with the
thundering blows of the white creature's single minded attacks upon
Myranda. The monolith sized limbs drove themselves into the earth,
spade-like teeth sinking in and tearing up vast stretches of earth.
It crushed and trampled dozens of its fellow beasts with each
attack. Myranda ran, lacking the mind to spare to offer up a spell.
The quaking earth split before her and each crushing stomp
threatened to hit its mark. Myn burned at its eyes, slashed at its
skin, and tore at its fur, but nothing seemed to do enough damage
to distract it, let alone defeat it. Finally the dragon swept down
and plucked up her friend, wheeling high into the air.

The young wizard fought to catch her breath.
Below, the beast ceased its rampage, the few eyes that had remained
unburnt watching her intently. Myranda felt the telltale sensation
of a spell slipping together around her and managed to dispel it.
Surely no beast could have even begun to cast a spell. She turned
her eyes to the long shadow cast by the beast as it thumped along
to stay below her. It was even more hideous and twisted than the
beast itself. Epidime had taken its body as his own. Sensing that
he had her attention, the possessed creature took a single,
purposeful step toward the arching stone ring that had been their
last battleground. With that single motion, even without words,
Epidime had issued a threat Myranda could not ignore. The monster
was heading for her father.

“Stop him!” Myranda cried, guiding Myn into a
dive.

Her cry made its way to the ears of Ivy. The
malthrope had been keeping a watchful eye on the still recovering
Ether, warding off any would be attackers, but with the
disappearance of Demont the beasts had steadily lost interest. Now
they marched mindlessly south, dividing around the heroes as they
might a tree or other meaningless obstacle. Myranda's voice drew
her attention. She looked back and forth between Myranda and Ether,
desperate indecision on her face.

“Are you . . . going to be all right if I
help Myranda? You still look weak,” Ivy asked Ether.

“Go, I don't need your help. I could
never
need your help,” Ether replied, mustering up enough
strength to show the proper degree of indignation.

Everything beyond the word “Go” went unheard,
Ivy sprinting madly toward the rest of her friends. The flow of
beasts was dense now, far too dense to try to slip between or hack
through. With no other option, Ivy climbed atop it, leaping from
shell to back to carapace as nimbly as one might across stepping
stones in a pond. A final leap brought her into the wide clearing
around the beast, a churned up, craggy battleground littered with
the broken remains of the demons who hadn't been wise enough or
fast enough to escape. Lain, still limping from Bagu's attacks,
slashed his way into the clearing a moment later.

“Ivy! In the ring of stone! Help my father!”
Myranda cried as Myn swept low and threw all of her momentum
against the ponderous beast.

The blow was enough to stagger the monster,
tipping it up on a single limb. Ivy scrambled up the side of the
tooth-like protrusions and tumbled inside. For a moment she stared
at the statue she'd been sent to help, curiously. The ground shook
as the monster came crashing down. Instantly she crouched and
hoisted the form to her shoulders, and eyed the wall of stone
around her. This was strangely familiar. She lowered her shoulder,
the heavy form heaving forward. Behind her, the massive beast
smashed at the earth. Ivy looked back to see one hideous leg flail
up and strike the earth. The ground trembled from the force. The
stone spires, already weakened from previous tremors, cracked and
split. Ivy knew that she wouldn't have a better chance than now.
With all of the strength she could muster, she charged at the point
in the stone most riddled and worn.

There was an explosion of dust and gravel as
the spire gave way, and not a second too soon. The monster was on
its feet. Ivy ran, smoldering fear and heartfelt duty forming a
potent mix that urged her forward. She could hear the slash of a
sword behind her and the thunder of the feet all around her. The
fear that had festered in the back of her mind began to drift to
the surface again. Until now she'd been rushing past, over, or
through the flood of beasts. Now they were beside her, in front of
her, behind her. They were matching her speed, giving the
frightened creature her first prolonged looks at the misshapen
beasts. Something deep inside of her reminded her that the same
mind that produced this horde had produced her as she was now. She
shook the thoughts away.

Lain slashed at the towering beast anywhere
that his sword would meet flesh, but he could make no progress. It
was immune to pain, and any wounds that posed the massive creature
any threat at all were closed immediately by Epidime's magic.
Worse, the creatures flowing from the portal were steadily larger
than those that came before them. A second and third beast,
identical to the one occupied by the dark General, had dropped out
of it and now stood ominously ready to replace his current host.
Seeing no end in sight, Lain retreated, disappearing among the
lumbering beasts.

Myn circled over the valley, Myranda staring
down from her back. The wizard watched helplessly as the monsters
rushed like ants across the landscape, spreading until they were
nothing more than a vague movement on the dimly lit landscape.
Something had to be done. The portal had to be closed. With barely
a word, Myn spotted Ether, and dropped quickly to the ground beside
her. Lain emerged a moment later. All eyes were trained carefully
on Epidime, the beast under his control wading through the rush of
like sized demons.

“Fire, quickly,” Ether demanded, sparking
quickly and weakly to the suitable form.

Myn complied, more out of the desire to roast
the infuriating creature than to help her.

“That is sufficient,” the elemental
instructed after few moments of flame, though the dragon belched a
few more blasts at her for good measure.

“How do we close the gateway?” Lain
asked.

“I . . . I don't know. The D'karon . . . or
whatever they are . . . their spells are all very similar. I wish
Deacon was here. He knows them better than I,” Myranda struggled,
watching the massive beast draw nearer.

“We don't have time for him. Every second
releases more of those wretched things into this world. They do not
belong here. Look at them. They don't care about us. Their task is
to devour this world. To claim it for their masters,” Ether
hissed.

“The . . . the spells. They don't have
counter spells. They are cast to be permanent. The only way to stop
them is to cut off their power,” Myranda said distantly.

She was distracted. Somewhere deep in her
mind she could hear a voice from her memories. His words were
echoing through her thoughts, dredging up images she'd just seen
and attaching to them. The meeting of the three shafts of light,
the dark triangle that served as the doorway, they were cryptic
warnings she had received, long ago. It was all falling into place,
but what came next? Suddenly, she knew.

“Get to the edge of the valley. Get far away.
Find Ivy and stay with her. I have an idea, but I don't know what
is going to happen. Let's go, Myn,” Myranda barked with authority.
Her tone was clear, confident, and decisive.

The dragon leapt into the air, the other
heroes launching themselves southward. Myn spiraled upward and out
of reach of Epidime not a moment too soon, the massive beast
finally reaching the Chosen as they parted. Myranda held tight,
purpose in her eyes, and coaxed Myn high into the air. When at last
they were higher even than the titanic obelisks, the pair headed
toward them. The mystic, unnatural sound of the energy hissing
through the air filled their ears. They drew nearer. Now the energy
itself was reaching them. It had a heat to it that went beyond
fire. It was a heat that burned the body, mind, and soul all at
once. Myranda urged the dragon forward. Below them was the white
hot, blinding bright point where the three shafts of light met.
Myranda leaned forward and placed a hand on Myn's neck.

“I'm sorry,” she whispered.

She jumped.

The wind whipped by her and mixed with the
screech of the life force of the world being leeched away. The heat
grew, consuming her entirely. Myn dove after her, but the rush of
raw power that wrapped around Myranda pushed the dragon back. She
fell further, tears streaming from her eyes and memories sizzling
in her mind. At the southern edge of the valley, the eyes of the
others watched the tiny form fall, almost invisible against the
brilliance. The searing pain seized Myranda then dropped away and
for a brief instant, she had clarity. Her thoughts turned to her
father, to Deacon, to all of the people she cared about, and who
cared about her. Her body passed into the point of energy and for
her, the world vanished.

Pain is a thing of the body. It could not be
applied to the sensation that permeated Myranda now. The agony felt
was greater than any single body or spirit could contain. What she
felt stretched further than the boundaries of her body. She felt
the torment of all beings at once. She felt the torture of the
world itself. Her individuality wavered, the whole of her self was
blending and mixing with existence itself. For a moment and an
eternity she was not Myranda, she was all. The eye of creation
looked upon her expectantly. The gods themselves watched her and
waited. There was more to be done.

Her will fluttered and fought, clinging to
the spark of divinity within her that was holding firm against the
onslaught. Gradually her mind and body drew back into being. The
all encompassing agony focused into a pinpoint of physicality once
more. Her eyes drifted down. The portal remained beneath her. She
had hoped that, just for an instant, she would have been able to
choke off the flow of energy, but she simply could not contain that
much power. All that she was could not interrupt the flow of power
for even an instant. Very well, if she could not contain it, she
would use it. She gathered together the energy that filled her to
bursting and, without the focus necessary to give it form, cast it
out all at once. From the edge of the valley, where Ivy had finally
been joined by her friends, the rest of the Chosen watched a
shining ring of brilliance erupt out from the meeting of the
lights.

The halo of light was filament thin, but
trailed light behind it as it spread. The sheer power of it threw
its heat to the far ends of the mountainside. Where it met the
obelisks, striking each at once, there was a flash that robbed all
who watched of their vision. The segments of the ring that did not
splash against the towers continued, passing through open air, then
unimpeded through the mountains themselves. With a sound like the
end of the world, the band of light sliced a surgical line along
the slopes, sweeping the peaks away like dust. It then continued
off into the night sky, illuminating the landscape beneath it as it
moved. The dust of the devastation rolled into the valley like a
fog, briefly concealing the traveling horde of creatures. The dense
cloud of debris settled quickly. When the air was clear, the mighty
Ancients, the massive mountains that formed the rim of the valley,
stood flat topped and equal. The towers still stood.

BOOK: The Book of Deacon: Book 03 - The Battle of Verril
11.08Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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