Chapter 22

A harsh pinch surged through Paine's leg, jarring him from his slumber. He jerked awake.

Fang leaned over him, her whiskered muzzle poking him as she growled. In the dim light, he barely made out her hackles, rising as she stared towards the edge of the camp.

Movement skirted the shadows and a dank smell fouled the night. Gleaming eyes of yellow shone, beacons filled with malice. Paine's eyes adjusted to the dark as towering demons crept from the night. The pit of his stomach hardened.

Not again.

He rose to wake the others, but cries at the north end of the camp indicated the slaughter had already begun. Over the screams, Great Bear and Truitt called for arms and order. Paine fumbled about, wondering where to run. Fang nipped at his ankle, and bounded to the side.

She barked and Paine followed, dodging others who ran towards the battle. He passed by Mira's blanket, ruffled and cast aside. Further along, Puck's bedding lay empty and untouched. He looked north, the screams piercing the night air. Again, Fang nipped at his ankle and he followed her east once more.

The wolf led him to Great Bear's horse, where she jumped up against the side of the Clydesdale. Whinnying in panic, the horse reared back against the rope that tethered it to an elm.

Paine reached for the horse, trying to calm it. “Easy, Booker.”

Booker’s eyes were wide and it yanked on the rope once more, nearly snapping the elm in two. Fang jumped again at the side pack, yipping and eyeing Paine.

“What is it?”

Wishing he had his sister's gift, he tried to decipher Fang's actions.

Was it the horse?

The wolf jumped up again, her teeth tearing at rope. Booker whinnied and bucked. Fang jumped twice more and Paine noticed a gnarled branch under the horse’s feet. Fang barked in triumph, eyes agleam.

Leery of Booker's frantic steps, he groped for the branch. He fumbled about, dodging the horse’s hooves. His fingers slid along its rough surface, and he pulled it out. Fang took it from his hands and dragged it away. He reached for it, but she growled at him.

Paine retracted his hand.

Then Fang dragged the wood into the dark of the trees and barked. Another wolf bounded after her; one that was slightly smaller but with the same coloring.

Paine watched as the demons flooded from the north.

What I am I supposed to do?

He pulled out the parchment from his sister and reviewed the words of the summoning, preparing himself.

***

Fang dragged the oak branch into the trees, determined to have some privacy for what she needed to do. She risked exposing herself and her kind, but there was no choice. This boy needed protection, and not just from the demons that butchered the witches and the people of the longhouse.

She looked upwards and a winged creature flew past the moon. She caught the faint glimmer of its winged tips.

Time was running short.

She growled and the lone wolf that followed her approached.

One of her own.

Fang lowered her body and raised her tail, as if to play. The other wolf’s ears pricked and she bounded towards him. He leapt towards her, eager to participate. He hadn’t played like this with his mother since he was a pup. She toyed with him awhile, nipping at his legs here, mounting him there. She hated this, yet continued with her coy game until he rolled onto his back and then she pounced, piercing his throat with her jaws. The wolf’s eyes widened and he struggled to free himself. This was not part of the game. He yelped but his voice was muffled in his opened throat. She clamped her jaws harder and he thrashed about, scratching her open with his claws. She dropped her weight onto him and bit down further. The taste was tangy.

Fang let the blood soak into the earth and held her offspring until enough blood spilled, until he was nearly dead; almost, but not quite. She needed his soul. The wolf no longer resisted her and lay still, but his eyes were still aware. There was confusion there and it pained her to see it.

One of her own.

But that was the purpose of this spell.

It had to be.

Fang dragged the oak branch over and forced one end into the moist ground. She then drew from what little power was available to her and summoned a spirit that was born of the Earth itself. She reached deep within the wells of her ancient soul and brought forth everything she could muster — a spell to create a staff that would act as a buffer. She had witnessed its creation once before.

She leaned over the wolf, her own offspring. His breathing slowed and his eyes glazed over. As the last raspy breath escaped his gurgling throat, Fang inhaled his soul through her nose. She carried the offering towards the pool of blood and exhaled.

One of her own.

***

Paine watched the slaughter play out before him. He paced in the darkness, close to the woods, waiting for Fang.

What was he supposed to do?

He eyed the note again in the faint light, muttering the words in his mind, cautious not to speak them aloud. Fang was in the brush; he could hear yipping and growling from the two wolves. There was silence for a time, the occasional padded movement and the sound of something being dragged across leafy ground whispering through the trees.

What was going on?

Facing northward he clenched his fists as Nissamin fell. The demons pounced on her and ripped open her chest as she wailed for help. It did not come and after a few moments, one of the demons raised her lifeless heart to the sky before devouring it. Paine turned away, unable to bear the sight and found Fang behind him. The branch was placed between them. One end was dark and moist. She nodded her head. Paine picked it up.

What was he supposed to do with it?

As he placed the butt of it to the earth, something surfaced within him, a multitude of thoughts and desires. All at once they were there, screaming in his head. They were the souls he had called upon before. They surfaced from a secret place within him, hidden from his knowledge. They had been living inside him. They called to him, begged for his command.

*We are yours.*

Paine bit his lip, waiting for the cold and vomit to spew forth. Yet there was nothing, nothing but the taste of blood in his mouth. And the impatient waiting of the dead. They were eager to serve. He gripped the staff and called upon others. The land released hundreds more to his summons.

They, too, whispered to him.

-We are yours.-

Paine laughed, a mad howl he could not stifle.

They are mine! I am in control.

Fang nuzzled him in the leg.

He looked north. The demons flooded from the trees, spilling into the camp. He ran towards the fight, the screams summoning him. He followed their call, feeling the strength of twenty men and the courage of fifty.

I am Little Badger.

He jerked his head at movement in the shadows. Before him, with its hoofed feet and matted fur crawling up its legs, a horned demon towered over him. It smiled with stained teeth and nodded its head. Fang bounded from Paine's side into the thick of battle, leaving him to face the creature alone.

I am in control.

He laughed and fear flitted in the demon's eyes. It lasted for only a breath, and the creature lunged forward. Paine winced and stepped back as he held aloft the staff. He thought of a ring of fire and it was so. The demon hesitated as a circle of flames flared to life before it. It snarled and summoned a fire of its own, green flames that sat in its opened claws. It flung it at Paine. The fire struck him, and the searing pain soaked into his skin. He groaned.

No!

He clung to the staff and the fire winked out. His skin was untouched, yet the memory of the pain was still there. It smoldered. The creature slashed at him, its claws swiping inches from his face. Paine ducked. The demon crept around him, hissing. It slashed at Paine again and flung green fire once more.

No!

The ring of flames that surrounded Paine blazed and consumed it before the fire could reach him. He opened his palm and divined a fire of his own, crimson and smoldering. It caressed his fingers and he toyed with it, laughing.

Was this how Lya felt? This powerful?

He held up his hand, outstretching his palm and let the flames dance. He blew upon it and the ground around the demon flared to life with fire. It screamed as the flames engulfed it, dropping to the ground. Its hooves kicked as the fire consumed it. The smell of burnt hair and rotting flesh soured the air. Paine licked his lips and smiled.

Die!

He turned away as the demon lay still. Its knowledge and memories did not come to him. It had no soul. It was a mindless beast, knowing only to hunt and slaughter.

Another approached.

Like the last, this one had horns, but a goat's face. It cried out, a rumbling bellow. Paine summoned the fire from the earth once more. This demon dropped, thrashing on the ground. Another approached, and Paine dealt it the same fate.

Two more.

Euphoria welled inside him to match the power he wielded, taking demon after demon.

Five.

He closed his eyes and summoned forth locusts that swarmed the demons. He called upon the ground to swallow them. Fire fell from the heavens, striking them down.

He took the parchment from his pocket and read the spell.

It required blood.

The land was soaked in it.

He summoned the five souls listed there, no longer frightened.

I am Little Badger.

A chill wind swept through the trees. He heard their wailing in his ears, and their ancient souls touched his own. They were his to command and he sent them forth. The spell worked and demons were dropped and pulled into the forest where their screams were short and agonizing.

Paine continued on. The staff was cold in his sweaty grip. The demons lurched towards him, and tumbled at his feet.

Ten.

He brimmed with ecstasy, slaughtering all before him. Some fell from a sickness that weakened their bones, their legs splintering into pieces; others crumpled over and were consumed by beetles and scarabs that flooded from their mouths.

From among the crowd, Puck ran directly towards Paine through the crowds. A demon was on his heels.

“Paine!”

Paine summoned scarlet fire once more and with a wisp of a thought he struck the creature down.

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.