The Trouble with Demons (41 page)

Volghuls weren’t our worst enemy; that distinction went to the elf standing entirely too close to the citadel mirror. Phaelan was right; I’d be better off with the demons.

Carnades Silvanus was a mirror mage, and he hated Tam and me and wanted to get rid of Mychael. I couldn’t read minds and in his case, I didn’t need to. I knew what the highborn SOB was thinking. Get through the mirror, destroy the one on the other side, and leave us all here to die or worse.

Take care of the Hellgate first, Raine; deal with the self-righteous jerk later.

Mychael took the stairs four at a time to Tam’s side, and I was right behind him.

Tam’s breathing was ragged, and his bottom lip was bleeding from where his fangs had bitten through in his effort. He tried for a weak smile. “This isn’t going as well as I planned.”

“There’s a lot of that going around.” I looked up and up some more. The Hellgate had grown taller, or maybe it was my terrified imagination. Taller, wider, longer—it didn’t matter. The damned thing was a Hellgate. Smaller wouldn’t make it any better, and bigger couldn’t make it worse than it already was.

“Mychael, how do we do this?” My voice sounded incredibly small.

He was calmly inspecting the Hellgate. The same things that gave me the shakes Mychael coolly analyzed for weakness and possible courses of action that would culminate in a brilliant plan. At least that was what I hoped he was doing. I was in so far over my head, I’d forgotten what the surface looked like.

“We banish it,” he said.

I blinked. “What?”

“Those demons want to be here. We make it unbearable for them to stay.”

I had no idea how Mychael planned to roll up the demonic welcome mat, but Tam and I needed to know, and quick.

Mychael removed his steel gauntlets, baring his hands. “Tam, when I tell you, pull your hands out of the Hellgate.”

Tam was incredulous. “But I’m the only thing holding—”

“You’re feeding it, Tam. Your body’s blocking the opening, but your black magic is feeding that frenzy.”

More monstrously huge faces thrust themselves against the membrane, stretching it so thin I saw the outline of an eyeball the size of my head.

I blanched. “If Tam moves, everything in there’s coming out here.”

“It’s too strong now to be closed by the same magic that made it,” Mychael told me.

“Then how the hell are we supposed to close it?”

“White magic.” Tam sounded like he’d been handed a worse death sentence than he already had.

Mychael nodded once, tightly.

Call it what you would—light to their dark, good to their evil, white magic to their black. We needed nearly limitless amounts of it and we needed it now. Too damned bad we didn’t have it.

“Tam’s a dark mage,” I reminded Mychael. “I’m an evil rock’s bond servant. That makes you the only goody-two-shoes mage around here. You got enough juice for that thing?”

Mychael’s expression was grim and determined. “No, but the three of us do.”

There it was. The ultimate testing of a three-way umi’atsu bond. A type of bond that had never existed before, now had to do something that had never been done.

“Carnades can’t see this,” Tam told us.

Dammit. Carnades.

If we didn’t get the Hellgate closed in the next few minutes, we were dead. If we closed the Hellgate, we’d still be dead; it’d just take a little longer for Carnades to push through the paperwork.

What sounded like a muffled explosion echoed through the Assembly as one of the enormous doors was flung open. A phalanx of Guardians cleared the way for a slender figure followed by six men carrying what looked like a coffin. A flash of fireballs showed them to be Sora Niabi and six of Uncle Ryn’s crew. The elven pirates put down the coffin and ran like hell, slamming the massive door behind them. Sora stayed.

“Trap open!” she roared.

The Guardians battling the demons stopped battling, shielded themselves, and hit the floor. On the stage below, Vegard shielded Piaras and Phaelan. Mychael put one bare hand on the Hellgate, and wrapped the other around me, pulling me tight against his chest. He went back-to-back with Tam, and I felt his shields encase the three of us. The same eardrum-bursting pressure tightened the air and compressed my lungs like a vice. I felt Mychael’s chest expand and contract with rapid, shallow breaths. I tried to do the same.

The Volghuls closest to the trap were the lucky ones. They were instantly jerked inside. The screams of those farther away became shrieks as their bodies were stretched impossibly thin as the trap caught and pulled them across the chamber. When the last demon was inside, the lid closed with a resounding boom.

“Mychael, that’s my last trap,” Sora shouted.

So much for what had happened to the demon queen’s court.

“Understood.” Mychael lowered his shields and loosened his arm around me, but he didn’t let me go. “You can’t do any more here, Sora. Knights,” he called to the Guardians who’d been fighting the Volghuls. “Go protect the people.”

When Mychael touched the Hellgate and pulled me to him, the distortion lifted and I felt my magic. When he leaned against Tam to share his shields, our combined power was palatable and we weren’t even doing anything yet.

Carnades was staring at the three of us standing together. His arctic blue eyes widened for a split second in realization, then all expression vanished from his face. I didn’t need to see it on his face; I could literally feel the elf mage’s revulsion—and triumph.

He knew.

I was the enemy, Tam was evil incarnate, and Mychael was his last obstacle to ultimate power.

“Paladin Eiliesor, I order you to step away from that Hellgate.” Carnades’s voice was deathly quiet.

Mychael couldn’t believe what he’d just heard. I not only believed it, I was expecting it.

“Sir?” Mychael stood utterly still, a dangerous stillness. I felt the power he was barely holding in check.

Carnades’s power flared in response. “A goblin opened it; a goblin can stay here and close it.” The elf mage cast a disdainful glance at Tam. “
If
he is able. Protecting the Saghred and myself as your archmagus is your only duty. We will return to the citadel. Immediately.” He looked from Mychael to me. “Mistress Benares, consider yourself taken into custody. Paladin, bring our prisoner.”

Mychael released me and came down those stairs even faster than he’d gone up them. Carnades didn’t flinch, but he squared his shoulders and stood his ground.

“That was a command, Paladin. To disobey me is treason. The penalty for treason—”

Mychael didn’t stop until he was nose to patrician nose with Carnades.

“I am well aware of the penalty.” Mychael’s whisper lashed like razor-sharp steel. “
Your
duty is to the people of this island. The archmagus is the protector of the people, defending them from any and all danger—even unto death. You
will not run
from that danger. If you require more clarification of your duties, I will be glad to provide it—
after
I close this Hellgate.”

“You will pay for this,” Carnades hissed.

“For doing my duty to our people? Gladly.” Mychael turned his back on Carnades to come back to Tam and me.

The elf mage’s face turned livid with outrage. “You will pay
now
!” His voice was thunder, his eyes blazed with self-righteous fury, his rage lashed like—

Phaelan hit Carnades over the head with a rock.

I saw it coming; I could have warned him. But I’d warned him once today. He ignored me, so I ignored Phaelan’s rock. I felt vindicated somehow.

Vegard bent over the out-cold Carnades. “Still breathing,” he reported. He sounded disappointed.

Phaelan tossed the rock in his hand. “You can arrest me later,” he told Mychael. “You’re kind of busy right now.”

“How long will he be out?” I asked Phaelan.

“Let’s see . . . Weight of the rock, angle of the hit, point of impact—at least ten minutes. That give you enough time? Or should I hit him again?”

“That won’t be necessary, Captain Benares.” Mychael looked at his men. “Knights?”

Those six Guardians had heard and seen everything, and they hadn’t budged or lifted one finger to defend Carnades or stop Phaelan. Mychael had ordered them to guard that mirror. If they protected Carnades, they’d have disobeyed Mychael’s order. Were these men Mychael could trust, or traitors in waiting?

“That demon came out of nowhere, sir,” one of them told Mychael.

“Not a thing we could do to stop him,” another added. “And we didn’t see the rock until it was too late. Sorry, sir.”

Loyalty. It’s a beautiful thing. Carnades sprawled on the floor was even better. And if we were lucky, there’d be some short-term memory loss to go with his concussion.

“Thank you,” Mychael told them, and he meant it. “Take Magus Silvanus back to the citadel and guard him well.” His meaning wasn’t lost on his men. “Vegard and Cadet Rivalin, escort Captain Benares.”

No one moved. I knew why. Their paladin was staying, and so were they.

“Knights, there’s nothing you can do here,” Mychael told them. “We’ll follow you when we’re done.”

Or not. He didn’t say it, but his men knew it. He also didn’t want them to see what we were about to do.

In my family, that wasn’t just exercising authority; it was getting rid of witnesses.

Mychael trusted his men, at least most of them. But there was a breaking point for every man’s trust, and seeing their paladin join with a goblin dark mage and the Saghred’s bond servant might test their loyalty or lose it altogether. Mychael couldn’t afford either one.

They reluctantly went through the mirror. Piaras had to give my magic-phobic cousin a push, but he went.

Vegard stayed.

Mychael studied the Hellgate while removing the steel encasing his forearms. He didn’t turn to look at Vegard. He knew he was there.

“Vegard, go with them.”

“I can’t do that, sir.”

Mychael pulled out a dagger and slit the quilted sleeves of his arming jacket, exposing his leanly muscled forearms. “That’s a direct order, Sir Knight.”

“I know.” Vegard’s voice was steadfast.

“You’re disobeying me.”

“Yes, sir. I am. I’m staying to watch your back, sirs—and ma’am. And to defend this mirror for you.”

Mychael finally looked at him, a sad smile curling his lips. “You’re a good man, Vegard. Thank you.”

“I do my best, sir.”

The shrieks and wails continued from behind the Hellgate, louder because they were closer—and there were more of them. The demons seethed en masse against the membrane, feeling its weakness, knowing that in mere moments they could have what they had wanted for countless ages—the end of our time, and the beginning of theirs.

Hell on earth.

And we were in the front row.

Tam spoke without moving. “Mychael, I’ve got a problem with your suggestion to take my hands out of the Hellgate.”

“That wasn’t a suggestion.”

“Take a look at my problem.”

We did. A demon that was little more than fangs with legs was attached to Tam’s chest with only the Hellgate’s thin membrane separating them. The thing was gnawing at the membrane, mewling eagerly.

“If I step out of the opening, this thing bites a chunk out of my chest—the chunk with my heart in it.”

“Why don’t you stay where you are,” Mychael told him.

“I thought you’d see it my way.”

“You’ll have to take one hand out. Raine needs it.”

I blinked. “I do?”

“Yes.”

Tam laughed once, without humor. “Mychael’s going to use our power to blow sunshine up the demons’ collective ass.”

Mychael raised one eyebrow. “In a crude manner of speaking, yes.”

I got it. This place was evil central. Rudra Muralin started with black magic rituals and sacrifices, and once the demons arrived and started setting up housekeeping, the walls in this place were literally smeared with evil. I remembered my vision of Mychael when he’d joined our umi’atsu bond. Power shining like a blazing sun, deadly and unrelenting, an avenging angel. And with our combined strength, Mychael could very well be a Hellgate-banishing angel.

Our combined strength included the Saghred.

“You’ll be using the Saghred,” I said.

In response, Mychael took my hand in his, his fingers interlacing with mine. His large hand was warm and strong, and the pressure was reassuring. Through that simple contact, I felt the bright core of his magic through his palm. His sea blue eyes were calm and steady.

“We’ll work together. At watcher headquarters,
you
controlled the Saghred.”

“Until I lost control.”

“You didn’t lose control; you focused that power and used it.”

And a giant yellow demon went squish.

I tried to swallow, but my mouth was bone-dry. “Mychael, I don’t know what to do here.”

He gave my hand a gentle squeeze. “I do. I’ll show you how.”

Tam pulled his left hand from the Hellgate and held it out to me. I expected it to be dripping Hellgate goo, but it was dry. I took his hand in mine; it was deathly cold. Tam gasped at the contact, and a shiver ran through him.

“You’re warm,” he breathed.

“Still being alive will do that.” I tried for a smile; it didn’t make it. I pulled the back of Tam’s hand against my chest, sharing what warmth I could, while I could. Tam’s power, his deep well of strength flowed into me and through me to Mychael, and it was my turn to shiver.

I felt a deep thrum of power run through us and down into the stone beneath our feet. The floor vibrated with it. My fear and exhaustion was washed away, a calm certainty taking its place. For the first time, I actually believed that this could work. My power, Tam’s power, Mychael’s power and guidance.

“Ready?” Mychael asked us.