The Devil's Deuce (The Barrier War) (40 page)

Danner listened in silence, hoping and dreading in turn what
she might say next. Was she saying what he hoped, or the exact opposite?

Women can be so damn
frustrating at times,
he thought to himself.
Wait, no, kissing is good. Kissing is a good sign. Right?

“The truth is, I’m falling.” She paused. “I’m falling,” she
said again, more quietly.

“Don’t worry, I’ve got you,” he replied, half whimsically.
“I’ll catch you.”

“I’m falling for
you
, Danner, and I think I’m falling
pretty hard.”

“So I’m not the only one,” Danner said, this time very
quietly and seriously. In his head, he silently berated himself for saying
something so inane.

They were silent. They stared into each other’s eyes, each
one searching for something completely different yet still the same. Danner’s
hopes were reflected in her chestnut eyes, and he searched intently for
something more. Something deeper.

He found it.

“I think I’m in love with you,” Alicia said at last.

Danner smiled.

“Well, in that case, I’ll meet you at the bottom,” he
replied. “Then we can catch each other.” He was suddenly very glad no one else
was around to hear him spout what, once he heard it out loud, sounded like a
line from a terrible romance play.

Alicia reached a trembling hand out and brushed his cheek,
and Danner closed his eyes and leaned into her soft hand. The brush became a
caress, then an insistent pulling that brought their lips together again.
Danner gripped her head gently in both hands and held the lingering kiss,
trying to show her in that single moment all that she meant to him.

He opened his eyes and they looked deeply into each other.

The kiss became more passionate, more feverish, and their
clothes felt stifling in the heat of the moment. First Danner’s shirt, then
Alicia’s started a pile on the floor that built up slowly until they were
laying flesh-to-flesh in bed. As the fever of being with Alicia took over
Danner, he lost himself in the moment, and the moment stretched into a minute,
then to an hour.

They made love, awkwardly at first, but tenderly. For
Alicia, there was some pain – both emotional and physical – but Danner was
gentle in his own inexperience, and they shared their first experience together
as only two deeply in love possibly could. It showed in a way that words could
never say what they meant to each other and what each was willing to give. It
seemed to Danner that it was not only their bodies that entwined, but also
their souls that became one for a timeless moment.

In the moment of release, Danner’s self-control exploded,
and his wings asolved, flickering into existence and redoubling the exotic
tingling in his body. He faltered for a moment and had to concentrate to
dekint
the glowing feathers wafting around him. Fortunately
Alicia’s eyes were closed at the time – Danner could only imagine her reaction
had she looked just then.

Afterward, Danner lay curled about her from behind, one arm
supporting both their heads and the other wrapped around her midsection. They
hadn’t spoken more than a few words in the last ten minutes, content to let the
silence speak for them.

Finally, Alicia stirred. She was staring absently at the
empty space on the bed in front of her.

“Danner,” she said softly. “Why did you wait for me? I was
awful, accusing you of hurting me, and it couldn’t have been easy for you
afterward. Even after something started to happen between us, I was still hot
and cold with you.” She paused. “Why did you wait for me?” she repeated.

Danner was silent a moment before he replied.

“I’ve always felt there might be something there, and after
I got to know you, I knew it was worth it.
You
were worth it,” Danner
said. “I knew if it didn’t work out, we’d at least have fun along the way, and
I’d have met a truly wonderful person and at the very least gained a good
friend. By waiting, I lost nothing if I was wrong. But if I was right, and
things did work out, I will have won the world.”

Alicia didn’t reply at first. She closed her eyes, shutting
out the rest of the world except for Danner’s words as they echoed in her mind
and heart.

“I love you, Danner,” she said at last.

“I know. I love you, too, Alicia.”

- 3 -

A dimension away, the general of Hell’s armies surveyed the
massive torrent of seething spirit and cursed flesh beneath him and smiled in
cruel anticipation. Demons of every lot and power were gathered to enforce the
will of Mephistopheles, issued through the lips of Malith. Countless damned
souls were gathered to fight, some because they had been promised a release
from their torment, most because they were whipped and forced into the war
against that which they still held dear: the world of the mortals that held
their loved ones and memories. A smaller percentage were there because they
volunteered; that was the type of person they’d been in life, and it continued
in their afterlife.

Careful sorties had been made in recent days that proved the
damned souls would remain corporeal once they crossed the Merging into the
mortal realm. At any other time, they would have been prevented from doing so,
or from crossing at all, by the nature of the Merging itself, which prevented the
souls of the departed from returning to the mortal world. Even without chains
of torture or bars forged by demonic jailors, the dead were held captive by
nature of their condemnation to the damned realm.

But the will of Mephistopheles was absolute in Hell, even to
the point of blurring the lines of reality. Aside from overcoming the nature of
the Merging, he’d had to contend with the Barrier, which had long prevented
demons from crossing to Lokka in force. For centuries, the King of Hell had
been working to weaken the Barrier, and now his work was complete. The Barrier
prevented a buildup of demonic power from crossing. An individual demon with
great power could not cross, while a single, weak demon might manage the
transition. But an army of the weakest demons could not cross, because of their
combined power.

Centuries ago, Mephistopheles had tried filtering through an
army a few demons at a time. But the plains bounded by the Earthforge were
featureless and under constant surveillance from the city of Nocka and the
paladins housed within. Without the strength of the more powerful demons, they
were no match for the paladins, and a single sortie of the holy warriors easily
wiped the weak demons from existence.

Even a force of moderately powerful demons crossing under
similar circumstances – but smaller numbers – was useless, for the paladins
fell on them like a hammer before their numbers were sufficient to withstand
the holy might. Mephistopheles had ground his teeth in frustration for another
century before he discovered a way to weaken the Barrier. Finally he had begun
his efforts, slowly at first as he gathered his strength. About the time Malith
had crossed, still wearing the white cloak of beauty from his life in the
Prism, Mephistopheles had begun to attack the Barrier in earnest and was
forming his army.

Malith was the key that had made the King of Hell’s dreams
possible. Malith had presented his new liege lord with the plan that would
eventually lead them to victory. Of that outcome, Malith had no doubts. Their
strength was overwhelming, and the mortal defenders of Nocka would pose little
problem, thanks to the efforts of The Three. Oh, they would lose some of their
forces in taking the city, but in a simple press of numbers the outcome was
inevitable. Malith would prove his worth to the most powerful being in Hell,
and everyone would see the genius of his strength and cunning.

All of his preparations were complete. His army was
gathered. The Barrier was sufficiently weakened. The city was cut off from outside
aid. The Prismatic Council was practically in the palm of his hand. It was
time.

“Pass the word,” Malith ordered a messenger. The damned soul
had been mutated to possess wings and was now a shriveled husk of its former
humanity. It was grotesque, but necessary to craft usable messengers and
warriors. Fortunately, the genius of Arthryx the Bender had discovered a way to
manipulate the semi-corporeal bodies of the damned, shaping them into whatever
demented forms Arthryx or Malith could devise.

“My lord?” the messenger asked.

“Begin the crossing,” Malith said. “We move ahead of
schedule. Proceed in designated order with all possible speed to attack the
gates of Nocka. Relent only on my orders.”

“Yes, my lord.”

The messenger shambled awkwardly to the edge of the cliff
and hurled itself into the air, then flew away on its twisted wings to deliver
Malith’s orders.

Malith stared after it in anticipation.

“Let it begin,” he said.

- 4 -

Danner walked in the early shadows of twilight, his heart a
lump of melted emotion and fiery warmth. He knew Trebor would be waiting
impatiently, but even the thought of his friend’s annoyance couldn’t bring
Danner down from the cloud on which he floated. He felt the urge to unleash his
wings and soar to the heights where his heart already hovered in elation.

He turned a corner and avoided stepping on a pair of
outstretched legs. The drunk, tramp, or whoever it was, lay collapsed and
half-propped under a pile of rubbish. Danner was about to pass by when he
caught sight of an outstretched hand. The flesh was bruised and bloody, but it
was the gray of denarae skin. Danner immediately dropped to his knees and
sorted through the rubbish, then stopped a cry in his throat as he uncovered
Trebor’s face.

“Trebor!” he said in anguish. “Trebor, can you hear me?”

Danner felt at his friend’s neck and was rewarded with a
sluggish pulse that reluctantly admitted the pitiful body was still alive.
Trebor’s lip was split open and bleeding, and one eye was swollen shut and a
disgusting purple color. Bruises and abrasions covered his flesh in a
discolored quilt of pain and damage.

“Danner, is that you?”
Trebor kythed.

“Yes,
Treb
, I’m here. What in San’s name happened?”

“I was beaten to a
pulp, what’s it look like?”
There was a slight pause.
“Damn, do I look that bad?”

“Probably worse.”

“I can’t move or
concentrate enough to heal myself,”
Trebor kythed.
“I need you to heal me.”

“Are you sure that’s a good idea?”
Danner asked,
thinking about his haphazard success with healing.

“No, but go ahead and do
it anyway. It’s either that or risk carrying me all the way back to the Prism
chapterhouse.”

“Right. Here goes.”

Danner forced his thoughts to be calm, and settled into a
relaxed state of concentration. He whispered a fervent healing prayer and laid his
hands on Trebor’s chest and forehead. A blue-white light glowed from beneath
his palms and slowly spread over Trebor’s body like a dense mist as he focused
on each injured portion of his friend’s body. When Danner removed his hands,
the mist dissipated and Trebor’s body was still bloody, but entirely healed.
His flesh was whole and unbruised, and in a moment Trebor opened his eyes and
stared about him in amazement.

“That was probably the strangest sensation of my life,”
Trebor said.

“The healing, or getting beaten to a pulp?”

“Yes.”

Danner hauled him to his feet, and Trebor swayed uncertainly
a moment before he was stable.

“Thank you, Danner,” he said. He frowned, then shook his
head in wonder. “No healing sleep. I don’t even feel tired. That must have all
come from you.”

Danner might have blushed had he not felt so horrible about
what his friend had endured.

“I’m sorry I let you walk back alone,
Treb
,”
Danner said, “and I’m sorry I took so long. You must have been laying here for
an hour at least.”

“Eh, after the first few blows I didn’t feel a thing, and I
really didn’t notice the passing of time, or anything for that matter, until
you showed up. Unconsciousness will do that to you.” He stopped and looked at
Danner in surprise, then said with a sly smile, “An hour at least? It seems
congratulations are in order.”

Now Danner did blush, but his thoughts immediately came back
to Trebor’s incident.

“How did they sneak up on you? Didn’t you hear their
thoughts? Who were they?”

Trebor shook his head. “I didn’t exactly catch their names,
but I’m assuming they’re either Coalition or just denarae-haters. There’s
enough of them around.”

“It’s so senseless!” Danner grated in guilty frustration. “A
random encounter in the street nearly kills you?”

“I’m a denarae, Danner, and that’s enough for some people,
remember?” Trebor said sadly.

The bitter reality of that statement crashed in on Danner.
He lived with hundreds of denarae and considered Trebor his best friend, but it
was so easy to forget the cruel bigotry the rest of the world directed at the
gray-skinned demi-humans. Even Trebor’s guard must have been down, Danner
realized, and their complacency had nearly cost the man his life. He never
should have let Trebor go alone, but… he’d had other things on his mind.

“As for how they snuck up on me, I was distracted. That was
my own damn fault. You don’t have to be sorry, Danner.”

“Well, I am.”

“Well, knock it off,” Trebor insisted. “If you feel bad,
let’s say it’s cancelled out by your having healed me when I couldn’t do it
myself.”

“But…”

“Just shut up, Danner, or I’ll tell Marc what you did with
his sister.”

Danner’s mouth snapped shut with an audible click of his
teeth. Trebor grinned at him and nodded in satisfaction. Their relationship was
no secret within the group, but this was a new level, and Marc had a
conservative streak in him when it came to women that was surprising in someone
dating a skin dancer.