The Second Coming (37 page)

Puck gasped
for air as he reached him and collapsed to the ground. “We m-m-must
leave.”

“
I can destroy them, Puck. You are safe.”

Two more
demons approached, a wolfen at their side. Paine summoned the
protective ring of fire once more. He pulled Puck up with one hand,
and summoned hailing brimstone with the other. It pummeled the foul
spawn before him, all three howling as they fell to the ground.

“
This staff lets me control the spells and the dead.” He
laughed. “They cannot stop me.”

The orb from
Puck's dead mother glowed in the young man's hand, violet and dark.
A feather crack ran along its surface.

“
Puck, what is that?”

Puck slid his
hand along the staff and took a step towards him. “Mine.”

His presence shifted. His fingers slipped along Paine’s skin,
and with a cold touch brushed his soul. The orb pulsed and Paine
froze in place, unable to move
.
He tried to release the power he had summoned,
but it was too late. It throbbed with the orb and Puck's presence
slunk further into him. His chill touch snaked under Paine’s
skin.

Then Puck
changed before him, appearing as Billy Chapman, then as the
Reverend. Paine sucked in his breath. Puck’s feet morphed to hooves
and his hands to claws. He towered over Paine, his muzzle smiling
with a tooth-filled maw, yet the eyes remained the same, green and
chilling.

“
You are mine,” he hissed.

Paine’s legs
trembled. He tried to control the souls, but as Puck's presence
continued to creep into him, they slipped from his grasp.

The creature
breathed in Paine’s ear. “I have been forced to bide my time,
playing simple around a sniveling little whelp. My patience has its
limits and I will not wait any longer. I will have you now.”

Paine scanned
the land for Fang, but could not find the wolf in the battle. He
looked for Truitt and Great Bear. Both were mired in a sea of dark
spirits and fire.

He gritted his
teeth. “What do you want from me?”

Puck did not
answer, but looked into the crowd. A short woman approached from
the shadows — Farin. Her features changed and she stood as Puck,
demon-like and towering.

“
We deceived those fools in Haven and Lindhome.” Puck’s face
grinned. His breath was bitter. “Do you know what I hold in my
hand? It is Elenya's Soul. The same jewel that has held the
Westwood in place all these years. Do you know its power? Can you
feel it paralyzing you here? Long enough for me to take your body.
I want your power. You're not worthy to wield it.”

Paine clenched
his jaw as his soul was squeezed aside.

Puck laughed,
a low guttural chuckle that made Paine's skin gooseflesh. The demon
leaned in and faint words sighed from his rank mouth. “You were
promised to me. And now you will be mine.”

No!

Farin grinned
the same unctuous smile.

Gregor and
Alwhin ran forward. The old man gasped. “Elenya's Soul.”

The demon
flashed her teeth at him. “You won't be stopping Dark Wind
now.”

He reached out
with a frail hand. “You can't possibly think to control it.”

Puck waved him
off. “It will do as we say.”

“
But it’s cracked. It will not hold Dark Wind.”

“
I won’t need it.”

Paine's anger
and fear seethed and a legion of souls flew to his aid. Puck took
control of them, used them, and sent them into the onlookers.
Screams echoed as the crowd scrambled for safety. Little Doe ran,
but stumbled and fell. She was dragged into the trees. Her gurgled
screams deafened Paine's ears and blackened his soul. Then there
was silence.

No!

Puck continued
to seep into Paine's body. Paine felt an urge to surrender to the
creature, a desire to yield to its wants. A madness stirred within
him, a darkness that beckoned him into its lair, warm and inviting.
It would be so easy. He wanted to yield, but a part of him
resisted. Puck continued to shuffle closer. Paine’s will began to
slip.

-Hold on, child!
Hold on to your
will!
Do not let it take away your
spirit.
It is your own to command.
Fight it!-

It was the
voice.

He thought of
the Clan Mother, slaughtered by the very spirits he had summoned.
Anger brimmed and Paine fought, pushing back against the force that
invaded his body. Puck’s presence hesitated and then pressed
forward again, worming its way inside him.

Little Doe
.

She had been
more of a mother to him than Gwen. He would not let her death be in
vain.

-Fight!-

The fire
within Paine blazed with blind rage and he walled the demon from
getting any further. The demon stopped.

-Good!-

Paine gripped
the staff and sensed his body once more. He pushed against the
foreign soul, forcing it out. Taking the staff with both hands he
stood his ground and focused his power. Shock flitted in Puck's
eyes. The black orb glowed again, throbbing and the demon held it
up.

A flash
scorched the night sky, and Paine closed his eyes to the blinding
light. The staff seared his hands and shattered. He heard snarling
and opened his eyes. Fang pounced on Farin. The wolf gripped the
demon's throat in her jaws and blood spurted as Farin gurgled in
agony and rage.

Puck lay on
the ground. He rose and spat. “This is not over! You were promised
to me. You will be mine!”

Someone fired
an arrow, but it pierced only air as Puck vanished from sight.

***

From atop
bold, rocky cliffs, Gault peered down upon Lake Nanabijou, the
largest of the great waterways. The land of the Sleeping Giant rose
in the distance, in the form of a great spirit who once lay to
sleep, waiting for his time to rise. Gault sniffed at the air and
looked back to the small band of Obek, all nodding in silent
unison.

He stepped
closer to the ledge, fingering the small sack of Troll's bones at
his hip. On his shoulder, Sri dug in her black talons and then
leapt into the air to dive from the cliff. Her onyx wings spread
wide in a graceful stretch. The sea eagle glided along the water,
her feet lightly touching its course surface.

Gault watched
through the giant bird's eyes as she soared across the waterways
and approached the sleeping form of the great island.

Does he
slumber still?

Shriveled
trees dotted the island, and only dust blew along its surface. The
eagle swooped over the giant's head and a draft forced her upwards,
a warm and damp breath.

He breathes.
He will wake soon, as
will the others.

From the
depths of his mind, Gault summoned Sri back to him and he turned
from the cliff, walking its edge. Sri joined them momentarily and
the Obek marched south and east. A still hush sat thick on the
trees as they strode through the forests of pine and cedar.

Calling them
to a halt, Gault raised his mangled left hand, its smallest finger
lost to the blades of the kahbeth. Before them, thick, black smoke
rose from the trees like the Dark One's anger. The scent of burning
flesh tickled his nose and the great Obek once more fingered the
bones. He signaled for readiness and marched forward, stepping
through the trees with feet of heavy silence.

The scent
thickened as they walked and Gault slowed his breathing, focused,
ready. The trees thinned and a palisade of thick wooden stakes,
charred and smoldering, towered over them. Gault signaled for the
others to walk the perimeter and search for survivors, and then
bent to look at a painting on the wooden stakes. Blackened, but
still noticeable, was a white pine tree with four roots that
extended to the four corners of the Earth. At the top, with its
wings spread wide, perched an eagle.

The Tree of
Peace.

He heard the
Haudenosaunee were expanding.

He continued
around the circular wall, finding its entrance and fallen gates.
Bodies of demons and Haudenosaunee littered the ground, broken,
crumpled, and burnt. Bows and daggers were still clutched in their
hands. Black smoke billowed from the blood-spattered
longhouses.

Gault stepped
around the bodies, his fingers twitching signs of blessings over
each.

May the gods
keep them.

Crows pecked
at the bodies of the fallen Iroquois, but avoided the demon dead.
He reached into his pack, pulled out a handful of dust, and threw
it into the air. As the faint breeze carried it south, he muttered
words of warding and the dust sparkled. The crows scattered, cawing
as they fled.

He strode to
the center of the village, side-stepping pools of blood and the
bodies of four demons.

Foul
creatures.

He scanned the
village. The only movement was his own band stepping through the
silent ruins, their faces showing no sign of emotion in the manner
of the Obek warrior. Yet he knew their thoughts would be similar to
his.

This was a
slaughter.

A gurgling
cough shattered the still air. A demon's legs moved at the side of
one of the newly built longhouses, its hooves coated in mud. As the
Obek rounded the corner, a sickness settled in his stomach at the
sight. Before him, a monster clawed its way towards the gates. Its
lower body was hoofed and hairy, yet its torso was Haudenosaunee.
Its eyes glowed green and it coughed up mucus and blood.

Gault
unsheathed the kahbeth from across his back as he approached. “What
happened here, Nightwalker?”

The half-demon
gurgled. Its human face stretched in pain, yet its eyes cast
hatred.

“
You are too late.”

Gault passed
the blades of the kahbeth before the demon's face.

“
I will end your suffering if you tell me what
happened.”

It smiled.
“What does it look like?”

From the pack
at his side, Gault withdrew a silver knife and a pouch of yellow
dust. He sprinkled the dust on the knife and muttered a few
words.

“
I will cast the demon wraith from you.”

The demon's
eyes widened as the Obek jabbed the dagger into its leg. It howled
with rage, scraping the ground with its nails. A few moments passed
as the legs changed from demon to human, and back again. The demon
hissed and green smoke sifted from its legs as it rolled out of the
human body. It clawed the ground one more time before it lay
still.

Gault knelt to
cradle the frail human body in his arms. The Haudenosaunee tilted
his head and opened his eyes.

“
I am Two Moon. Please ask my people to forgive
me.”

Gault, with
his knotted hands, brushed the flowing hair from Two Moon's
face.

“
It is not your fault, warrior,” he whispered. “The wraith
controlled your actions. They take us when we are most vulnerable.
It is a powerful demon, hard to fight. Can you tell me what
happened?”

Two Moon
sputtered. “The demons launched an attack upon the village. They
attack the others that flee for New Boston. I was supposed to send
messages to the new villages for help, but that thing inside me
would not let me. Instead I led the demons to destroy them.”

“
Do not lay blame upon your shoulders, great warrior. It is
too great a yoke to bear when it is not yours.”

He coughed
again. “They will destroy my people.”

“
Where are your people now?”

“
East of the Mississippi. You must warn them.”

“
Rest your mind, great warrior. I will take up your dagger in
your place.”

Two Moon's
eyes fluttered for a moment. “Thank you, Wise One.”

He closed his
eyes, his head fell back, and he breathed no more.

Gault lay the
man's body down as if he were an infant.

We must bury
them all and burn the demon flesh.

He looked at
Sri, perched upon the remains of the palisade. “You must send a
message, my friend. Look for my nephew. Tell him the others of
their kind are lost and that we make our way east to their aid. Go,
my friend. I will catch up to you.”

Sri screeched
and then leapt into the air, her great wings taking her higher
until she disappeared beyond the trees. Then Gault called the
others over to him and prepared for the great burial.

The Lady
Maiden bobbed in the waters of the Mississippi, a seesaw motion
that mired the captives in a bog of weariness and boredom. For an
hour it had been moored in New Memphis, and Brahm leaned back
against the wooden walls of the cargo hold, awaiting her fate. The
creaking of the ship grated on her nerves like a dull song droning
in her ears. She pulled at the loose threads of the drab gray tunic
and pants her brother had offered her.

At least it was better than that fucking
dress
.

Lya lay asleep
on the floor, having now joined them. White Feather sat chained on
the other side of the hold. On occasion he glanced in Brahm's
direction, his eyes appearing thoughtful at times, confused at
others. No longer did she feel the heat of his anger, yet she
wondered what ruminated in his mind.

Diarmuid
waited near the door, his ear turned to the crack.

“
Someone is coming,” he said.

His chains
rattled as the pepper-haired man shifted away. An unsteady clopping
echoed down the hall. She knew it was not her brother's deliberate
stride. The being walked with an awkward cadence, and she knew him
instantly.

Imp.

The door
inched open and Breland stepped in, offering her a shallow, mocking
bow.