Veilspeaker (Pharim War Book 2) (21 page)

Jez and Ziary stood back to back, a circle of death in
the middle of an army of demons. For Jez, there was no thought, no strategy.
There was only the blade and whatever demon he was engaged with. He was dimly
aware of his sword blurring. Demons who tried to parry his strikes missed his
blade. It had to be Villia or Lina using their abilities to give him an edge,
but his sword only looked a little distorted. They probably didn’t want to
twist the sight of his weapon too much and risk distracting him. If only he
could tell them not to bother. He didn’t need to see his blade to fight.

Without realizing he was doing it, he began to draw of
Luntayary’s power, but there was something else too, something he didn’t
recognize. His flesh was burning, but another power was holding the damage at
bay, and strength welled up inside of him. His sword arm moved faster, cutting
through the demons like a scythe cutting down wheat. Moments melted together,
and he lost all track of time. After an hour or a day, the tide of demons
stopped. Jez released his power and fell to his knees, breathing heavily. Ziary
offered him a hand up. For the first time Jez had seen, the scion’s scarlet
robes were in tatters. Jez looked around. Many of the people with them had
fallen. Only a few on the ground were still moving, but there were no signs of
Maries’s army. Everyone, Villia included, was staring at Jez in utter shock.

“By the seven,” Villia said in a half whisper. “It’s
been...” Her eyes flickered to Haziel, and she caught herself, “ages since I’ve
seen anything like that.”

The king nodded and there was something very close to
reverence in his voice. “If only I had a hundred more like you, or even a
dozen.”

People peaked out of doors and windows, looking for
demons and relieved when they didn’t find any. Slowly, they began coming out.
Some eyed the dead bodies on the ground, but rather than being repulsed by
corpses, the people seemed to draw strength from them. More than one face
showed a determination that said they would not allow these creatures to claim
their home. In a few minutes, their army had grown to twice its previous size.
The air around Haziel practically shimmered with power and as soon as the king
approached, Jez’s fatigue vanished. He stood up, still a little weak. Whatever
power shrouded Haziel had kept Jez’s own power from consuming him, but it
didn’t stop the damage entirely. Neither could it reverse what had been done,
but Jez could fight again. He looked from the keep to their army. This wouldn’t
be easy. Rumar Keep had been built for war, and they had no siege engines and
only a few real soldiers. Then again, he would’ve never suspected a group of
townspeople could beat back an army of demons.

He stood up straight, conscious that every eye was on
him. He looked to Haziel who nodded and Jez lifted his crystal sword in the
direction of the keep. It glowed so bright most had to look away, and Jez
wasn’t sure if the power had come from him or Haziel. When the light faded,
everyone began to cheer. He took a step toward the keep and the wall around the
doorway exploded outward. The people cried out as shards of rock flew over
them, though few were large enough to cause any damage. Jez looked up and
paled.

In what once had been the entrance to the grounds
stood a demon twenty feet tall. Its face was pasty white and rows of sharp
teeth showed in a mouth that looked too big for its head. It was covered in
plates of black metal, though Jez couldn’t tell if it wore armor or if that was
just its skin. It had four arms, each carrying a long curved blade, and its jet
black eyes focused on the army.

“Oh no,” Villia said.

“One of Maries’s lieutenants?” Jez asked

Villia nodded. “Flinas, demon of violence, and one of
the deadliest fighters in the abyss. I had hoped he would be last to be
summoned. He could tear us apart.”

The king snorted. His sword actually seemed to glow,
and his face took on the stony expression of pure rage.

“Let him come.”

A cloth appeared over the demon’s head. It drew back,
and for a second, his head passed through it, but the blindfold followed a
heartbeat later.

“That won’t hold him for long,” Villia cried out.
“Your Majesty, we must flee!”

“Not while my breath remains!”

Haziel rushed forward, ready to swing his sword but an
image of Villia appeared in front of him, and the king skidded to a stop.

“This isn’t a fight we can win,” the image said.

Haziel looked over his shoulder to the actual Villia
to her image and scowled.

“I won’t...”

“Not in a head to head conflict. You’ll only lead your
people to death.”

Jez thought he was going to order his men to attack
anyway, but he nodded and the image of Villia vanished. Haziel waved his sword
and his people retreated to the city, though Flinas’s roars never abated. They
turned a corner and stopped in the middle of a large street. Their army was
still growing by trickles, but other than that, the street was empty. The
people had either fled the city or were hiding. Jez’s grip tightened on his
sword, but the demon didn’t come.

“Sharim will need to guard his center of power until
the army has finished coming through,” Villia said. She pulled the book they’d
gotten from Sharim out of her robe.

“The throne room?”

“Yes. He won’t risk us taking a freed king there for
fear that we’d close the gateway, so he’ll keep Flinas guarding the way in.”

“We can go through the passage in the graveyard.”

Villia shook her head. “He had Varin for hours. He’ll
know about it and have that way guarded.”

“But Varin didn’t know where the passage was.”

“He knew it existed, and Sharim is no fool. Now that we’ve
come through once, he’ll have the dungeon guarded. Only one or two can come
through the passage at a time. He could hold off an army, and even if you were
able to get in, you’d still have to pass through the dungeon, where its wards
would block your magic. If you’re attacked there, you wouldn’t have a chance.”

“We’ll assault the keep then,” Haziel said.

Villia shook her head. “Your Majesty…”

Haziel waved off his objection. “If what you said is
true, I have no intention of trying to fight that thing, but if we attack, we
might open the way for the baron.”

“Me?” Jez asked.

The king smiled. “You’re the best chance we have.”

“We’ll need you though, Your Majesty.”

“No, I don’t think you will,” the king said. He
touched his sword to Jez’s shoulder, and though it was normal steel, power
rushed down the blade and flowed into Jez, filling him with energy. “I name you
Sir Jezreel, Knight of the Realm and defender of Korand.”

Jez blinked and looked at Villia. “Will that work?”

“It will,” Haziel said without waiting for Villia to
answer.

Jez glanced at Villia, and the former pharim shrugged.
“All schools of magic have those who are naturally gifted at them. Royal magic
is no different. He’s endowed you with a portion of his power. It’s a powerful
working, though I doubt he can do it many times.” She looked at Haziel, and the
king shook his head. “It should be just like you’re fighting by his side.”

Jez’s mouth dropped slightly. He closed it and
inclined his head. With royal magic, he could draw on Luntayary’s power without
it consuming him. He could fight, and just maybe, he could win.

Everyone who had ever held a bow was given one. A few
were armed with slings. It made Jez feel sick to see many who, under ordinary
circumstances, would’ve been considered children.

“So are you,” Villia said when he pointed it out.

“I know how to protect myself.”

“You didn’t when you faced Marrowit, and they’re doing
much less than you did then.”

Jez watched as one let a stone fly with his sling. It
smashed a clay pot, and the boy, no older than ten, smiled at the old soldier
directing a group of boys and girls of a similar age. “Still, I wish they
didn’t have to do this.”

“We won’t be engaging Flinas, just drawing him away
from the gate.”

“Are you sure there won’t be some other demon watching
the way in?”

“Not really.”

“I’ll go with you,” Lina said.

“No,” Osmund said, but went silent when Jez glanced at
him.

“I can help. At least I can hide you while you get
inside.”

Haziel came over and started speaking to Villia about
the distribution of the weapons. Jez pretended to listen while he mulled over
his thoughts.

“She does have a point,” he said eventually.

“Do you really think we can trust her?”

Lina sniffed. “No one cares what you think.”

Jez raised an eyebrow. “Actually, I care what he
thinks.”

Lina’s face flushed, but eventually, it gave way to a
scowl. “Do you want to fight all the way to the throne room? You’d never make
it.”

“We might,” Jez said, “but you’re right. We’d stand a
much better chance if we could go unseen.”

“Jez, are you sure about this?”

“She’s not going to betray us to Sharim. That’s all
that really matters.”

“If the three of you are done arguing,” Villia said as
she finished her conversation with the king, “we’re ready to begin the
assault.”

The silent movement of the army was a sharp contrast
to the sounds of battle that had accompanied them last time. The plan was
simple. They would shoot Flinas until he grew angry enough to run after them.
Then, they would scatter. If the demon stopped chasing, they would shoot him
again. The only problem was that Flinas was faster than they were. They would
run as soon as the demon started chasing them. Villia would try to use her
illusions to distract the demon. Jez doubted they’d all make it, though. He
felt like he had the weight of the world on his shoulders. They were resting
their hopes on him.

As soon as they rounded the last corner, Flinas’s eyes
fell on them. It might’ve been his imagination, but Jez thought he felt a chill
running down his spine every time the demon took a breath.

“Do it,” Jez said.

Lina nodded and everything darkened slightly. The
whispers from those near him told him he’d vanished from their sight. He could
still see Osmund and Lina, though they seemed hazy. He nodded at them, and the
three started forward. Haziel’s gaze lingered on the spot Jez been standing
before motioning for the army to follow him. At a hundred paces, they stopped.
Flinas glared at them, and a few people turned away, but most kept their eyes
on the king.

Haziel raised his sword, and the bowmen took aim. He
brought his sword down, and a volley of arrows flew toward the keep accompanied
by dozens of stones flung from slings. Most of the missiles fell short, and a
few clanked against Flinas’s armor. A handful embedded themselves in the
demon’s face. Flinas just stared at them, apparently unaffected by the arrows.
Jez found himself holding his breath. Haziel paled and moved closer. A rumble
escaped Flinas’s throat as the bowmen raised the weapons again. They loosed and
more found their mark, but still, Flinas didn’t move. The king took another
step forward, but before his foot touched the ground, the pale demon surged
forward in a white blur. The people didn’t even have time to cry out as he fell
upon them, seizing a person in each of its four arms, having discarded his
weapons in favor of his bare hands. Jez took a step toward them, but Osmund put
a hand on his shoulder.

“The way is open.”

Jez glared at him and looked back at the army. They
had multiplied tenfold. Flinas tried to grab a woman, but his hand passed
through her. Jez smiled as he sought out Villia. There were at least a dozen of
her, each with arms raised and glowing violet eyes. The demon recognized what
was happening and tried to grab one, but his hand passed uselessly through her
image. Lina was staring, her mouth open in surprise.

“By the seven, how can she do so much?”

Her voice echoed strangely, and Jez realized she
wasn’t just keeping them invisible. She was keeping any sound from escaping. He
grinned at her amazed expression. “You wouldn’t believe me if I told you. Let’s
go.”

She nodded and they started for the broken door of the
keep. She threw one more glance over her shoulder before they entered the place
that had become a demon stronghold.

“You’re a pharim, aren’t you?” Lina
asked as they walked through the grounds of the keep.

“What?”

“When you were arguing about the fight with Sharim,
Osmund said we had at least one pharim with us. At least. He was looking at you
when he said it.”

Jez glared at Osmund, but the other boy pretended not
to notice. He sighed. “It’s a long story. The short version is that I have a
pharim’s soul. It makes me stronger, but I can’t use its power all the time.”

“How—”

“Not now,” Jez said. “If we survive, I’ll tell you.”

“Jez...” Osmund started.

“I think by then, I’ll know I can trust her.”

Osmund nodded. Lina looked from him to Jez but didn’t
press the point further. Like the entrance to the grounds, the main door to the
keep had been torn away, and they passed through it without raising an alarm.

The keep was curiously empty. Most of the doors had
been torn off their hinges, and in a few places a particularly heavy demon had
left a clawed footprint in the stone. The smell of sulfur permeated the air and
stone, and Jez wondered if it was possible to become used to it. They passed
one of the dining rooms, and Jez peered inside. Three demons with the heads of
dogs but that stood upright paced the room. A yellow summoning circle dominated
the center. It flared, and a fourth demon appeared and moved to join the
others.

“It’s one of the other portals,” Jez said. “Who knows
how many he’s crafted.”