In The Service of Demons Page 2

  Alysia glanced at Amarah, expecting her to object, but the spiked-haired demon girl was removing her cloak and making herself more comfortable. The sun had dimmed to bring in the weird version of twilight that Yalem had, and Alysia watched their bobbing silhouettes against the orange sky. The wagon had no top, but did have soft seats and bedding. There was a bunch of fabric against the back of the driver’s seat, which looked like it would serve as cover whenever they needed it.

  Amarah threw back her head and let out a humming noise that sounded as if several women were making it. The four stopped to regard her as she stomped her feet to simulate drums that would bring her in, and the party took the hint and began to stomp along with her. The rhythm was catchy, and when her sweet voice stopped as if to listen to the stomps, Alysia felt the air stop in her throat as she anticipated what was next. Amarah Jade began her song:

  Even though we travel far. Travel far.

  The long night still holds fright and here I sit without you in my arms,

  Come back to me and keep me warm, beneath the hunter’s moon and stars.

  As if on cue, the massive form of Bortex stood up in the middle of the wagon, his sturdy legs refusing to give as the wheels rolled over large rocks and uneven road. He had a string instrument raised up on his massive chest, and his fingers danced along its surface rapidly, producing the sweetest chords to go along with their stomping.

  When Cyrio came in with a second verse, his voice was like scented smoke. It was like an incense censer of thick, harmonic delight, and Alysia grinned in a way that she hadn’t grinned since that fateful day when the demons and giants attacked her university. Cyrio Arl bellowed his sad verse:

  Even though you travel far. Travel far.

  The long night will not keep me away from you, I won’t let evil bring you harm,

  I rush back to you, to keep you warm, beneath the hunter’s moon and stars.

  The two singers stood up now, and Alysia wondered how the beasts that dragged their wagon could stand the stomping and the movement going on behind them. They began to clap, adding an extra level to the music, and their feet stomped even harder as they moved in circles around each other. Meanwhile Bortex was playing his heart out, and a smiling Orwan nodded his head in time with the beat.

  Around them, the sky was dark, and the stars were beginning to poke their way through past the shadowy mountains that broke up the horizon line. Four fireless lamps came on to illuminate the wagon, and the dancing and soulful music put Alysia back to the time when she was captured and the V’Kosha made to sacrifice her over a fire.

  It was a dark memory and one that she didn’t want to have, but it was short-lived since both Cyrio and Amarah stopped dancing to hold hands. They looked to the sky and sang together, the final third verse of their selected song. A faster verse, with a lot of life and excitement, driven by Bortex who had the instrument at his hip. The music reminded Alysia of mariachi bands on Earth, and his hand was strumming in a blur, the music seeming to come from several guitars.

  Now we have each other, running under starless sky. Watching danger pass us by,

  Anything that comes I’m prepared for …

  The “for” was extended into a long note and then the song came abruptly to an end. Bortex collapsed as well as Amarah and Cyrio, then the wine was out, passed from lip to lip, and the four passengers picked up the conversation that had started at the inn.

  ~ * ~ * ~

  On their third day of travel, the wagon pulled up to the gates of Lorus. It was dark, save for the torches along the road. Lorus had a tall wooden fence that bordered it, and four guards in iron chest plates and leather were posted out front to guard the gate.

  Alysia noticed immediately that there was a pile of bodies in front of them, and she began to worry if there was a plague of some sort. She was seated next to Orwan on the driver’s seat, and she pointed to the bodies and asked, “Is that always there when you visit?”

  Orwan’s face had gone pale, and she followed his eyes over to the gates where one of the guards was shaking his head and telling them to stay away. By that time Amarah and the brothers had hopped off the wagon and down to the soft earth, so Alysia decided to join them.

  “Stay away strangers, you don’t want to be here,” the guard said, his voice a trembling effort that was barely understandable. “It’s the dead. Our dead are coming back to life … corrupt. There is disease in the air, and we have had to put plenty to the sword.”

  “Maybe we can help,” Alysia said. “Why haven’t you burned the bodies?”

  “Fire attracts them, that’s why. Many more of these undead things live out there, in the bordering woods. That’s where they go, once they get buried and climb out of their graves. They go skulking off into the woods. The only truly safe place is inside these walls.” He swallowed hard and continued, “But even then, we have had people turn inside. Listen, like I said, you don’t want to be here. The land is cursed; someone did something cruel here, and now we’re all being punished for it.”

  “We’re trained warriors, and we can help,” Amarah said. “Let us in and let us talk to the people. Once we find out what we need to know, we will seek out the witch or devil that is doing this, and put her permanently into the ground.”

  The guard looked around as if he expected someone to show up and then nodded to his partner before pulling the heavy wooden gates open. Alysia and her party walked through, and Orwan walked up to the mounts and fell in behind the other four.

  When the gates were fully open a powerful stench drifted out. They could hear the wailing of people crying, and the sound of metal upon metal.

  “Is there fighting going on in here?” Orwan asked from behind them.

  The guard ignored him and ran forward, his hand resting on his long sword. Alysia saw him slip around the corner of the nearest cottage and then backed up into them with his sword drawn.

  She didn’t realize that she had pulled out Euphoria. It was more a reaction than a conscious thing. A horned man was crawling towards them, his maw spewing blood, and she could see that he was missing the lower half of his body. Amarah was on him in a flash of movement, and her sword was through his head and out again just as fast. The corpse lay still, finally at rest, and Amarah crept forward to see if there were more.

  “Sorry about that,” the guard said and sheathed his sword before walking ahead again. They saw the townspeople milling about, and more piles of corpses, stacked like fleshy hills on the sides of the buildings. Lorus was ten times the size of Wildemont, and lacked the artistic brilliance that it had. They walked past people who could have been walking corpses themselves, since their eyes reflected loss and the sort of resignation that came whenever a situation seemed helpless.

  “Where are you taking us, guardsman?” Amarah asked.

  The pale man stopped walking and said, “To my captain, Jalec Mur. He will tell you what we need here, and if it’s possible to help us.”

  They began walking again and Alysia moved up to walk next to the guardsman as they continued their trek past the pain and misery, illuminated by the tall torches that lined the road. “So, when did all of this start?” she asked without looking at him, keeping her eyes peeled for anything out of the ordinary.

  “This began about three weeks ago when a wagon like yours came to the gates with a strange family. The man was nice enough, but I could tell that there was something off about his wife. They settled into town after purchasing a small cottage from Lars Uper, a friend of mine … he lost his parents and they left him the house so—I lost my train of thought. Oh, yeah, so they bought Lars’ old house, settled in, and then disappeared overnight. Once they vanished, people started reporting all sorts of strange things going on at the house. Some children broke in and disappeared without a trace, and at night sometimes you can hear wailing, even though the place is abandoned. Erm…I know it. I checked it out myself a few days ago.”

  “And let me guess,” A
lysia said. “Your captain is hanging out in front of this haunted house.”

  “Yes, you’re pretty sharp,” he said.

  When they got to the Captain’s station, he was kneeling and the guardsman ran over to check on him. The large, bearded man could pass for human, but when he grimaced, Alysia saw a slight red glow beneath his skin.

  He tried to talk but spat up blood and then his face grew pale and he slumped to the ground. Long, wet entrails spilled out of him like a family of bloated snakes, and he was no longer amongst the living.

  The guardsman was shaking, but he spoke despite his fear. “Captain said that it is the house. This is where the curse—” He turned his head and vomited, a projectile of chunky, white fluid.

  Amarah touched Alysia’s arm and motioned towards the door. “Bortex,” she announced, and the big demon ran forward, his massive shoulder a battering ram that threw the door off its hinges.

  Bortex tripped over a fallen body as soon as he got inside, but nimbly rolled and pounced back to his feet, his giant sword in his hands.

  It was dark inside, the one candle in the back barely piercing the black. Amarah and Cyrio dashed in after Bortex with their weapons drawn and Orwan knelt next to the guardsman to help him.

  Alysia looked around. A small crowd had gathered, all of them wearing the mask of loss. She stepped inside the musty house to join the other Erts. Something tugged at her senses. It was so strong, she felt as if a tiny person was pulling at the hairs near her temple. The dragon ring grew bright red, warming her finger as it climbed her arm, encasing her in armor. She backed up and pulled Euphoria, probing the dark for anything that looks vaguely suspicious.

  “That’s our Alysia, full of surprises,” Amarah said. “There’s corruption here, somewhere. I know I’m not the only one who can feel it.” She looked around at the others, and they began to walk into the various rooms of the cottage, trying to see if anyone was hiding. Amarah reached inside her pouch and pulled out a bit of leather. She unfolded it carefully, then took a pinch of the dust that was inside. She uttered a few words and threw it up into the air. They exploded into tiny sparks that hung all around them, illuminating the place like a fluorescent light bulb.

  Alysia noticed that there were ripples in the atmosphere, and she touched Amarah’s arm to show her. “Oh, no,” Amarah whispered, then backed away from the area.

  There was some commotion outside and Orwan ran inside. “We’ve got trouble,” he said. “The dead are attacking. The guards are overwhelmed.”

  “Get outside and help him, guys!” Amarah shouted at the brothers. She turned to Alysia and pointed at the ripple. “That there is a sort of gate. V’Kosha and Chaos use them to move around Yalem. You told me that with Lenorela, you were using the same magic, transporting between worlds and different times. Use some of that magic now to reveal the gate. If we can get it open and can go through it, we can find the source of these animated corpses.” She followed the brothers out to join the fight.

  Alysia cursed her luck and sheathed Euphoria. She stood with her feet apart, one in front of the other, then raised her hands and closed her eyes, trying to follow everything that Lenorela had taught her. She could hear the creatures outside, moaning and dying. She could hear Bortex’s battlecry, loud and fearsome as it should be.

  Her mind ran to her past, back on Earth, but she fought it back and focused on the skies of Yalem. That strange mustard sky, dotted with all sorts of fantastic flying beasts, dark clouds, the sun that wasn’t a sun. She felt goose pimples rise all along her arms, and a tiny area of her soles itched something terrible.

  It felt like eternity as Alysia stood, focused, and despite her attempts to push back, the memory just wouldn’t go away. She was with her friend Jaime at a house in New Jersey. They were passing the time by playing a game of cards. Jaime was a clown, so he performed a trick, showing her a card, placing it on the table, then turning it over to show that it had changed.

  While Alysia knew that there was a logical answer to this “magic,” she refused to ask him, so then he proceeded to do another trick. He distracted her with a question, then opened his palm in front of her. When she made to knock his hand down, he flicked his wrist and a card appeared between his fingers.

  “How in the hell did you do that?” she had asked him, and he demonstrated slowly, showing how he hid the card behind his palm.

  Earth magic was the stuff of tricksters; there was no great field that gifted magicians could tap into in order for cards to appear out of thin air. But to a child or a simpleton, their mind is ready to accept the lie. The magician does a “trick,” they assume that he’s gifted, and both go their separate ways, satisfied.

  For magic to work, I have to let go of the questioning, she told herself. I need to stop wondering how it is that Lenny can open portals and levitate, and focus on the spectacle, the amazing talent that allows for magic to happen.

  When she remembered where she was, her armor pulsed, and the glowing dust that illuminated the room revealed the outline of a glowing oval about the size of a door. Amarah ran in, bloody and sweaty, then glanced at the portal in the center of the room. “You did it!” she exclaimed, then called the three men inside. “Quickly now,” she said to them, “let us get inside and end this thing.”

  Chapter Three

  The place had the appearance of a sauna. Wooden walls, steam, and a large pool in the center. Alysia felt her armor stick to her skin uncomfortably and she wanted out, immediately.

  She probed around for the door but couldn’t find it, so she scanned the large room for her comrades. She seemed to be alone and this concerned her. Wouldn’t a portal take them all to the same place? She wondered if Amarah had misjudged the magic. What if she had triggered an elaborate trap, one made to catch would-be heroes looking to save the town?

  Alysia unsheathed Euphoria and walked around the room examining the walls. No door presented itself but she kept on looking, unwilling to give in to doubt and fear.

  After her fourth cycle of scanning the room, she saw that there was a hole at the bottom of the wall. It looked as if the wood had been ravaged by termites and they had eaten enough to make a hole big enough to crawl through.

  Alysia replaced her sword and got on her hands and knees. First, she tried in vain to see what was inside, and then she used the end of her scabbard to feel for any surprises.

  When she was adequately convinced that there was nothing waiting, she crawled inside and probed her way through until her progress was halted by what felt like a dead end.

  Alysia pushed against the black wall and it gave a bit with a creaking sound that was reminiscent of wood. The heat was near unbearable in the hole, and although it was large enough to allow her to turn around, she had spent a lot of energy to get where she was. “I’m not going to get stuck here,” she whispered to herself, her words invigorating her and breathing new hope into her mind.

  She curled up into a ball so that she could change position and put her feet against the wall. She lay on her back with her palms down, hands gripping the gaps in the wood that lay below her. When she had a good enough grip, she bent her legs and shot her feet out hard into the wall. The wood gave way, breaking into soft, wet splinters, and Alysia spun herself around again and crawled out of the tunnel.

  She found herself in a room that was similar to the first, but instead of steam there was fire and smoke. The main difference with this burning room was the door across from where she lay. The fire was intense, but she crawled below the smoke, trying not to breathe it in.

  She found that the cottage was not unlike the one that held the portal. She navigated the rooms on her hands and knees, then found her way to the exit and ran outside. All around her was a village, its houses on fire, and running about were black shapes, demons that looked similar to the ones that had invaded Earth.

  Hacking and coughing, Alysia pulled Euphoria, cut into a V’Kosha that came running up to her, then whirled and slashe
d another across the neck. With each kill she made, the dragon ring pulsed, and in time she focused on little else but seeking and destroying. One by one, she ran at the demons and cut them with Euphoria, turning them into exploding ashes whenever the blade connected.

  Alysia ran at a V’Kosha who screamed at her, and cut across his legs low, bringing the sword up in front of her, knocking him down with the motion. When the demon exploded, the others grew wise, and soon they were running away from her. Alysia calmed down, and for the first time she could feel the burning heat of the houses on her skin.

  Her legs were sore and her limbs numb from all the crawling and the fighting, but she took to running the length of the village, hoping to get away from the fire. When she reached the last house before the gates, a rather large demon walked out in long black robes. He had long black hair, tied up into a topknot, and a flaming great sword which was strapped to his back. His robes had small white gems that glittered like stars in the firelight, and his skin was dark; not like her father, but the color of blackest night.

  “An outsider,” his gravelly voice rumbled. “An outsider has found a way to break my spell. Why are you here, human girl? Shouldn’t you be rebuilding after what we did to your world?”

  “That’s a mighty big blade, Mr. Demon Lord. Overcompensating? Or do you use that thing to cut up innocent villagers?”

  “Come over here and kneel before me. Give up that sword and I will forgive the disrespect.”