Chapter
Twenty-One
“Dawson? Nine hells, man, I never thought I’d see you again! I thought you were dead!” Alton thrust his sword through a mass of approaching demons, but he flashed a speculative glance at Daws. “What happened?”
Dawson held up his sword. “My sword
brought me back.” He tightened his grasp on Selyn’s hand. “My sword
and Selyn. What’s going on?”
“Chaos,” Ginny said. She took a deep
breath. “Absolute chaos.”
Dawson focused on a group of familiar
faces. Roland and his band were protecting a small pack of
Lemurians huddling in shocked silence beside the dais at the head
of the plaza. All about them, the ground was littered with
sparkling bits of crystal. “What’s happened to their
swords?”
“Shattered. They’re cowards, all,”
Alton said. He swung his blade again and more sparks flew. “They
finally drew their swords when they realized there weren’t enough
of us with crystal to protect them, but their blades
shattered.”
He paused, thrust his blade through
another stinking demon. “The problem is, the citizens don’t trust
us. Drago’s been speaking out, rallying them against us, telling
them we’re possessed by demonkind. He’s got the idiots convinced I
was the one to open the portal to Abyss and allow the wraiths
entry.”
“Bastard.” Dawson glanced about the
huge plaza, but saw only a few dozen Lemurians. “Where is
everyone?”
“Hiding in their quarters,” Taron
said. “They scattered quickly, once demons broke through. At least,
so far, anyway, there’s no sign of the demon king. Alton said he’s
the one who seems best able to get the others
organized.”
Shouts and the clash of steel erupted
from a passage behind them. Alton glanced at Ginny and raised his
sword. “Do you think it’s him?”
Dawson frowned. “Who? The demon king?”
He glanced at Selyn.
“No,” she said. “His grandfather.
Come.”
The five of them slipped into the
passage in time to see Artigos the Just with his army of former
slaves and once-possessed guards engaging in battle with a squadron
of Lemurian guardsmen. Steel clashed with crystal, but the Lemurian
guardsmen were vastly outnumbered.
“Enough!” Alton leapt to the top of a
table and raised his sword. “As Chancellor pro tem and head of the
Council of Nine, I demand you lay down your arms.”
The soldiers pulled apart, but no one
disarmed. They did, however, stop fighting and turn their attention
to Alton. Alton pointed to his grandfather, a man he barely
remembered. “Do you not recognize the true leader of Lemuria? You
raise your swords against Artigos the Just, who has been held
prisoner these long years since the great move.”
Some among the guardsmen seemed to
recognize their former leader. Dawson could hear them mumbling
among themselves, but he had no idea what they said. Finally, one
of the men stepped forward and bowed, showing Alton the proper
courtesy due his position.
“We know not these men, Chancellor,
dressed in their strange uniforms. They are, and yet are not, of
the Lemurian guard. They are guardsmen who bear crystal, and yet we
are not so armed. And who are the women? They’re not the women
warriors of legend, and yet they bear crystal as
well.”
He folded his arms across his chest,
pointedly turning his back on the rest of the men and women,
focusing his attention on Alton.
And Alton focused on the soldier. He’d
stated his questions clearly, without malice, but the man had to be
confused. Who in the hell was the enemy?
“These are the daughters of the
warrior women. The guardsmen were their wardens, holding them
enslaved for all these years, but the men were possessed, each of
them ruled by demonkind until my grandfather, Artigos the Just,
freed them.”
Alton glanced at his grandfather and
then looked down at his friends. Dawson flashed him a wink.
Going good so far, he
said, using his newfound telepathy. No
one’s trying to kill anyone else.
For
now. Alton held his sword high. “Demonkind is
invading Lemuria. The only way to stop them is with crystal.” He
faced the soldiers carrying steel and spoke quickly, his voice
urgent, his expression one of firm resolve. “Swear allegiance to
our world, to Lemuria, and you shall carry crystal as well. Drago
is possessed by demonkind, as was my father. We can only prevail
against this evil scourge if we work together. Not for me, not for
Artigos the Just. For Lemuria.”
Before anyone could answer, a sudden
chill swept over them. Dawson grabbed Selyn’s hand and pulled her
out of the way. A seething cloud of demons shot from the great
plaza, heading directly at the soldiers in a whirlwind of sulfuric
stench.
Those armed with steel ran for cover.
The Forgotten Ones and their guards leapt into battle. The air
filled with the stink of demons and their terrible banshee screams,
with the cries of warriors fighting strong and true.
Dawson whirled out of the reach of a
huge demon, one he’d not seen before. It had shape and form, and
rather than attack, it hovered just before him, its multi-jointed
arms tipped with deadly talons and its shimmering scales reflecting
the ambient light in the broad passage.
This was no formless wraith, yet when
Dawson thrust his sword through the creature, it merely screamed a
shout of triumph and lunged forward.
Daws rolled out of the way, barely
ahead of the slashing talons.
Alton’s shout rang in his ears as he
scrambled to his feet. “The demon king! Ginny, we need
you.”
Ginny raced toward them, holding
DarkFire high. The massive demon turned and shrieked, growing in
size until it towered over even the tallest of the Lemurians. Ginny
looked like a child, standing before the huge creature, but she was
fearless in her attack.
Alton stood beside her, with Dawson
and Selyn on either side, but the demon backed away, shrieked
again, and suddenly collapsed in upon itself, formed a tiny tornado
of pure, dark energy, and flashed back toward the great
plaza.
Absolute silence followed in its wake.
Silence punctuated by the sound of heavy breathing and the soft
murmurs of warriors.
Alton took a deep breath, glanced at
Dawson, and nodded. Then he turned to face the assembled group.
Those armed with steel had rejoined them, but their expressions had
gone from confident and self-assured to humble.
It was impossible to deny the power in
Artigos the Just’s army, standing here in a room filled with the
sulfuric stench and blackened soot of dead demons.
Alton looked to that group of warriors
first. “Are you willing to share the power of your crystal blades
with men who truly are not your enemies?”
There was no hesitation at all. Those
bearing crystal—men and women alike—walked forward, joining the men
carrying steel. Holding crystal to steel, they quickly replicated
each of the crystal swords. As light flashed and crystal flared to
life, Dawson watched the expression on Alton’s face turn to one of
hope.
Their army had just grown
considerably.
Artigos the Just walked through the
crowd of warriors and stood beside the table where Alton once more
held court. “You’ve done well, grandson. I’m proud of the man
you’ve become.”
The shimmer in Alton’s eyes matched
the glow of his sword.
Selyn squeezed Dawson’s hand.
It’s been a long time
coming, she said. Ginny’s
told me of his father’s cruelty.
But his
father has been possessed by demonkind, Dawson said.
There may be resolution there, as
well. He leaned close and kissed Selyn, but the
moment was bittersweet. He knew all about resolution. He’d never
found it with his own father. No, but he’d found something even
more powerful, more important with the woman holding tightly to his
hand.
He’d found love.
Isra heard the sound of fighting long
before she reached what must be the great plaza. She saw huddled
groups of unarmed Lemurian men, and many soldiers bearing crystal.
Her sisters fought in a number of areas, battling the black wraiths
she’d first seen at the portal.
But where was that big one? The one
that had paused and practically taunted her with his strength and
fierce power?
A scream caught her attention. Nica!
Little Nica fought alone, swinging her crystal sword against a
swirling mass of darkness. Isra raced across the open area. How in
the hell did one fight demons? She’d only had this crystal blade
for a few short minutes.
And yet, she knew exactly what to do.
Thrusting the tip into the stinking, shrieking mass, she felt a
huge pulse of power and blinked at the shower of sparks as demons
exploded at the barest touch of crystal.
“Isra!” Nica shot her a huge grin. “We
couldn’t find you anywhere, and you’ve got crystal! I’m so glad
you’re alive. I was worried. Thank you.” She took a deep gulp of
air, and then another. “There are so many.” She held up her
scratched and bloodied arm. “Don’t let them get close. They may
look like mist, but they’ve got sharp teeth and claws. I got
separated from the others. Stay with me, please?”
Isra nodded. Nica showed no animosity
toward her at all, even after a lifetime of cruelty and harassment?
Amazing. “Of course I’ll fight with you, but I must find Selyn or
Artigos. Either one. I have terrible news and must warn
them.”
Nica grabbed her hand. “This way. I
saw Alton, Artigos’s grandson. He’s the one you need to
tell.”
Fighting raged around them. Her
sisters and the guards, fighting together, battling an endless army
of demons. For the most part, it appeared the Lemurian aristocrats
had either gone into hiding or cowered in corners, terrified of
both the Forgotten Ones and the demons.
Cowards, all. Once again, Isra
wondered why she bothered, but then she remembered—this fight
wasn’t for those foolish free folk. This was for her
world.
For Lemuria. She turned to Nica.
“Alton?”
“Yes. There. The one with blond hair
who fights beside Taron.” Nica pointed toward the two men and the
tall, dark woman who fought between them. Their swords flashed and
demons died, and yet, for each that died, two others took its
place.
Isra had to speak to him now. She knew
where all these creatures were coming from. Somehow, he had to
close the portal. Isra raised her hand, hoping to gain his
attention, but a sudden chill stopped her before she could call his
name.
She turned, and found herself looking
into the eyes of that same, huge, hideous demon. He stood not six
feet away, watching her as he’d studied her before, in the chamber
where the portals pulsed and swirled. Caught in his diabolical
stare, she could neither move nor scream.
His lips parted in a parody of a grin,
and, as Isra stood, frozen in place, he flexed very solid looking
talons and slowly walked toward her.
Selyn heard what could only be Nica’s
scream. She turned loose of Dawson’s hand and raced toward the
sound. “Dawson! He’s here.” The demon king had materialized not a
hundred yards from where they’d seen him last, only now he stalked
Isra.
Isra with crystal? But
how?
And Nica! Little Nica protecting the
one who had tormented her for most of her life. So many questions,
but the time for answers would have to wait.
Nica swung her sword, but the crystal
passed through the demon king’s body without visible effect. The
massive beast turned and swung two of his huge arms, batting Nica
away as if she were nothing more than a small
irritant.
“Nica!” Isra pivoted out of the demon
king’s reach.
Nica cried out, hit the ground hard,
and lay silent. The demon turned on Isra once again, but she stood
her ground. Dawson raced past Selyn and stood beside Isra with his
sword drawn. Selyn went to Nica. Slowly she knelt beside her
friend.
Nica’s head was bloodied, but her eyes
were open. Long scratches ran across her neck and shoulder. “I’m
okay,” she said. “Help Isra. She has important news for Chancellor
Alton.”
“Take care, my friend.” Selyn helped
prop Nica against the wall, away from the fighting. Then she
grabbed up her sword once more. Dawson and Isra slashed at the
demon king, but all they seemed to do was infuriate the beast.
Their crystal had no obvious effect. Was Ginny’s DarkFire the only
sword capable of harming the creature?
Selyn lunged, driving her blade deep
into what she hoped was the demon king’s heart—if he had one, and
if it resided in his chest. He twisted away, shrieking now as three
blades pierced him, cutting and slashing without visible
damage.
There was no blood, no sign of cuts or
tears. His scales remained in place, his body whole. He was mist
and yet not. Substantial enough to reflect light from his reptilian
scales, solid enough for his knife-like talons to leave deep cuts
where they met his opponents’ living flesh—and disgusting enough
for the stinking saliva from his gaping mouth and yellowed fangs to
turn the ground beneath their feet foul and slippery.
Solid, yet not entirely—light showed
through his huge body, and the shadows of movement, when Isra or
Dawson lunged with a blade, seemed to dance within his frame. He
fought them now, turning and swirling, reaching out with his four
arms to slash and cut, kicking with his huge, clawed feet. Still,
Selyn felt as if he merely toyed with them, as if he tested their
skill and laughed at their inability to best him, even with
crystal.
Until Ginny joined the fight. Charging
in with DarkFire glowing that unbelievable shade of purple, she
headed straight for the demon king. His massive head whipped
around, and he shrieked. Movement within the great plaza halted as
everyone, demon and Lemurian alike, turned in the direction of that
unholy noise.
Before Ginny could swing her blade,
the creature lost all form, turned into a black tornado of seething
mist, and disappeared down a dark tunnel, away from the
battle.
Demonkind throughout the entire area
screeched and rose into the air, swirling and pulsing in thick,
oily masses of mist. Then with an ear-splitting shriek that seemed
to come from all directions at once, they coalesced into a single
massive spear of darkness and sped after the demon
king.
Alton threw an arm around Ginny’s
shoulders and kissed her. Dawson drew Selyn into an embrace, and
they all stood there, blowing, gasping for breath, staring in the
direction the demon king and his minions had gone.
The few aristocrats still cowering in
dark corners were the first to head toward Alton, followed by the
warriors who’d fought and killed so many of the demons. Artigos the
Just stayed toward the back of the plaza with many of his army
around him.
Drago, it appeared, had been among
those hiding. He leapt to the dais and pointed at Alton. “Arrest
him. He is in league with demonkind. Did you see what happened? He
allowed that thing to escape. It’s headed straight for the living
quarters where our people hide from this terrible invasion. No one
will be safe.”
Alton glanced at Ginny, and the anger
boiled off of him in waves. She reached for him, but he shrugged
her off and marched across the open plaza. When he reached the dais
where Drago stood, he took the steps two at a time as if he
intended to physically attack the councilman. Ginny was right on
Alton’s heels, with Taron, Dawson, and Selyn following close
behind.
Alton reached the same level as Drago
and towered over the man. “Put a lid on it, Drago. Now.” He turned
to the gathering crowd and glared at his people—people who had
cowered in fear when demons attacked. Men whose swords had
shattered rather than allow cowards to wield them. “Those of you
who believe Drago’s lies are fools. Every gods-be-damned one of
you. Fools and cowards, all.”
No one spoke, but eyes shifted from
Alton to Drago, and the mood grew ugly. Alton dismissed them with a
curse and glared at Drago. “A test, Drago. Draw your sword. Show
them that the blade is black as sin.”
Drago took a step back as Alton turned
once again to the crowd, now watching him intently. “Crystal turns
black when the one who wields it has died. The Drago who once
inhabited this body died long ago. You see the man, but he’s
nothing more than demonkind—possessed for so many years, almost
nothing but the demon survives.”
Drago took another step back. Then he
seemed to catch himself. “Lies, Alton. Nothing but
lies!”
“I think not.” Alton glanced at Ginny
and then focused once more on the Lemurians watching this drama
play out in front of them. “Let DarkFire prove the truth of my
words. My mate’s blade is capable of forcing demonkind from even
the darkest heart. Dawson? Taron? Hold Drago so that Ginny can show
these good people what the councilman really is.”
Before Drago could flee, Dawson made
eye contact with Taron, and the two men acted as one. They grabbed
for Drago and caught his arms. He struggled, fighting against their
control, but the two of them held him so tightly restrained he
couldn’t break free.
Ginny stepped up and drew her blade.
Drago’s eyes went wide, but she didn’t hesitate. Instead, she
touched the tip of her blade to his chest, just over his heart. The
dark crystal glowed, just as it had in this same plaza mere days
ago when the people had witnessed DarkFire’s power for the first
time.
Drago screamed, but it was a banshee
cry, not the sound of a man. His body jerked in Taron and Dawson’s
grasp . . . and then a thick, oily mass began to seep out of
him.
There were gasps and cries throughout
the vast plaza as those in the front pushed back, away from the
dais, and the ones in back surged forward for a better view. Selyn
looked out over the crowd and realized that people were coming in
from the various passages, though not from the direction the demon
king had taken.
She wondered where he’d gone, if there
were people yet in danger. Now, though, both male and female
Lemurians filled the great plaza as Ginny forced more and more
darkness from Drago.
He seemed to shrink, like a child’s
toy balloon deflating. At first he struggled, but as more and more
of the demon was drawn forth, his struggles lessened. Finally, he
hung limp and diminished in Dawson and Taron’s grasp, but a thick,
oily substance floated in the air just above his head.
Ginny thrust at the mass with
DarkFire, but the wraith shot out of reach, just ahead of her
blade. Someone in the crowd screamed. Ginny cursed and lunged
again, but the mist spun in an ever tightening circle and then shot
down the passage, following the direction the demon king had
gone.
“Shit.” Ginny stared at her sword and
shook her head. “I didn’t expect it to move so quickly. How’s
Drago?”
Dawson grabbed a fistful of Drago’s
hair and raised the man’s head, but he was limp and barely
breathing. Alton glanced at the crowd. “Can we get a healer up
here? It appears the demon’s force may have been all that kept him
alive.”
“You were right. That explains the
black sword.” Taron adjusted his grip on Drago’s arm.
An older man moved through those
standing closest to the dais, climbed the stairs, and went straight
to Drago. At the same time, there was a commotion toward the back
side of the plaza, a shout and angry cursing.
Roland and Birk moved toward the dais.
Roland had a tight grip on one man, while Birk grasped the arms of
two more. A third Lemurian guard came from another part of the
crowd, marching yet another man ahead of him.
“Thank you, gentlemen.” Alton pointed
to the guards and their prisoners. “These members of the Council of
Nine have ruled Lemuria since the great move from our dying
continent. None of us knew, at the time, that they had been
possessed by demonkind, their every thought controlled, their will
that of a Lemurian no longer.”
He folded his arms across his chest
and gazed out over the plaza that was now filled with Lemuria’s
citizens. “You will hear the full story as soon as we can take the
time to explain it all to you, but I can tell this to you now—we
will remove the influence of demonkind from our leaders and from
any of our citizens who have been infected with this scourge. My
father is being treated even now. He’s with a healer in Earth’s
dimension.”
At the mention of Earth, a mumbling
rose among the people. Alton raised his hand. “Do not fear that
which you do not understand.” He pointed to Ginny and Dawson.
“Without these humans—humans who now carry crystal—demonkind would
rule our world. Your lives would be forfeit. I charge you to treat
them with honor.”
Selyn glanced at the council members
held captive before the dais. Each of them had a crystal sword
carefully sheathed, yet even from here she could tell the blades
were black. A chill crossed over her spine. The demon king was
still free and demonkind still wandered the halls of Lemuria. This
battle was far from won.
Ginny stepped down from the dais and
led the guards and their captives to a point out of view of the
crowd where she could safely remove the demons, but a familiar
voice drew Selyn’s attention once again.
“Selyn! I really have to speak to the
chancellor.”
“Isra?” She leaned down and held out
her hand. “Come. Let me help you. It’s too crowded for you to get
to the stairs.”
Isra’s hand tightened around hers. As
Selyn tugged, Isra jumped and landed lightly beside her. “I have
news he must hear,” she whispered. Then Isra looked over her
shoulder at the huge crowd of free folk. More people than she and
Selyn had ever seen in their lives.
For a moment, Selyn wondered if she
had the right to interfere with the chancellor’s speech. Then she
sensed the power of StarFire and knew she had every right. She
stepped up and tapped Alton’s shoulder. “Isra says she has
important news for the chancellor.”
He flashed her a cheeky grin. “That
would still be me.” And, without a moment’s hesitation, he turned
his full attention on the two Forgotten Ones.
Isra glanced quickly at Selyn and then
swallowed with an audible gulp. “Sir,” she said. Then she took a
deep breath, and the words spilled out. “I freely admit I came to
this level to do harm, but I was captured by guards possessed by
demonkind. They took me through a magical wall of molten gold and
thence along a passage that led to a chamber filled with portals.
That man”—she pointed at Drago—“was using his black sword to open a
portal. It’s a massive doorway that swirls in colors of darkest red
and stinks of demonic presence.”
Alton’s hand snapped up to stop her
speech. “Taron,” he said. “Dawson, you need to listen to this.” He
turned back to Isra. “I’m sorry. I want my men to hear your
message.”
With Dawson and Taron on either side
of the chancellor, Isra continued. “Drago completed the portal, and
demons began pouring through. Thousands of them, filling the
chamber with a solid wall of stinking mist. Then that large one
crawled through the portal.” She stopped and took another deep
breath.
Selyn reached for Isra’s hand and
squeezed it tight. Never in her wildest dreams had Selyn imagined
feeling pride in Isra, her most unfriendly sister, but now Selyn
stood tall and proud beside one who had always wished her
harm.
Isra’s fingers tightened in Selyn’s.
“When the demon king finally crawled out of the portal, he divided
the demons into three separate groups. One group went down a
passageway to the left and disappeared. Another went through a
gateway I didn’t know—it was off to the right and had a
well-traveled path before it. The third group invaded
Lemuria.”
Dawson and Alton exchanged glances.
Alton nodded. “I agree. They’ve gone to Earth. The passage she
mentions to the left takes them to Sedona; the other portal will
drop them onto the flank of Mount Shasta.” He shook his head.
“We’ve not heard from Eddy and Dax for much too long. Taron, I want
you to close the portal from Abyss if you can, but also try to
contact our friends in Evergreen. Darius should be the strongest
communicator. I need to know if they’re all right, if my father
lives.”
Taron nodded and clasped Alton’s
shoulder. “Alton, I am so sorry. I was caught in the battle. I
never got to the portal. I’ll go now. Be careful. The demon king is
here, and his army is growing. Plus, he’ll have gained strength
from the one that possessed Drago.”
“I know.” Alton pulled Taron into a
quick embrace. “It’s okay, my friend. There is nothing to forgive.
Go quickly.” Then he turned to Selyn and Isra. “Thank you, Isra. I
hope you’ve lost your desire to do harm to Lemuria, as I have a
feeling we’ll be able to use one with your fortitude when it comes
time to rebuild this world.” He smiled at her, and then he sighed,
as if the weight of his world were growing too heavy for any one
man’s shoulders to bear.
He gazed out across the vast crowd and
then smiled and raised his arms to draw the attention of his people
once again. “As my mother explained when I took over my hereditary
seat as chancellor of the council, it was to be a temporary
position. I want to introduce you to the rightful leader who should
have held this seat all along. It is with great honor that I give
you my grandfather, Artigos the Just, once king, now the rightful
chancellor of the Council of Nine.”
Gasps rose from many. The crowd
parted, and Artigos the Just, followed by his army of former slaves
and once-possessed guards, strode across the great plaza with his
ruby blade held high.
Selyn fought back tears of pride as
her sisters, some of them bloodied, all of them smiling, followed
their leader, each of them carrying crystal and walking with more
pride than any of the free folk could ever hope to
understand.