Energy crackled in the air which indicated that magic was being gathered nearby, and James’s experience told him it wasn’t anything good. The hair on his arms and neck rose as he reached the bottom steps and confronted a door. He waited until he knew that Jazhara, Means, and another guard were behind him, then said, “Ready!”
He kicked open the door and found himself in a large room carved out of the soil beneath the tavern. Near the middle of the room stood three men, two dressed in the same way as the two men upstairs, in black tunics and trousers, black gloves and with swords at their side. The third man wore robes and James recognized him as the magician they had seen at the Wreckers’ Guild.
But what drew James up short and made him gasp was the figure forming in the center of the room, inside a complex design drawn on the floor in a white substance. “A demon!” he shouted. The creature was coalescing into solid form, substantial from head to waist. Its head was misshapen, with two curving horns that arched down and forward from its brow. Glowing red eyes regarded the intruders and it bellowed like a bull, its massive shoulders flexing as it attempted to reach out to them.
The enemy magician cried out, “Hold them! We are almost done!”
The two black-clad swordsmen drew their weapons and charged the short distance that separated James from the demon. Jazhara attempted to cast a spell, but had to break her concentration in order to avoid being struck by one of the two men.
James parried the other attacker as Jonathan Means and a guardsman burst into the room.
“Gods!” shouted Means. “What is that thing?”
“Kill the magician!” James cried.
The guardsman didn’t hesitate. Rather than risk approaching the magician and coming within reach of a demon that was almost completely solid, the soldier pulled a dagger from his belt and with a powerful throw sent the blade spinning toward the magician.
The dagger struck the magician in the heart, knocking him backward as the demon gained solid form. The demon bellowed in rage and tried to attack, but the lines upon the floor seemed to form a mystic barrier, preventing him from reaching James and the others.
James saw Means rush to Jazhara’s side, and concentrated upon his own foe. The man was an expert swordsman and James was conscious of the enraged demon he could see over the man’s shoulder. The assassin was also aware of the demon behind him, for he took a moment to glance back before focusing on James. James sought to press his advantage, but the swordsman anticipated it.
James moved to one side, shouting, “Jazhara! Can you do something about that thing?”
Jazhara was attempting to disentangle herself from the second swordsman, in order to allow the guardsman or Jonathan Means to engage with him, but the room was too crowded to allow an easy transition. “I’m occupied at the moment, James,” she called.
Means cried, “Let me past!” and Jazhara instantly drew her staff toward her, holding it upright as she turned and suddenly Means was past her, lunging at the swordsman, who was forced to back away.
Jazhara looked at the demon and said, “I know almost nothing of such creatures, James!”
James beat back a high attack by the assassin he faced and attempted to back him into the demon’s reach. “I’m turning into something of a expert, I’m sorry to say,” he retorted. “This is the third of these creatures I’ve run into in my life.”
“One thing I do know,” Jazhara shouted. “Don’t cross into that diagram and don’t break the lines.”
“Thank you,” said James. He thrust out with his blade, managing to nick the assassin in the leg. “I’ll keep that in mind,” he added as he pulled back.
Jazhara saw the stalemate between her companions and the two assassins, and stopped to catch her breath. She closed her eyes, recalling an incantation, then when she had it firmly in mind, she slowly began to cast her spell. When she was finished, a crimson bolt of energy flew from her outstretched hand and struck the face of the assassin attacking James. The man cried out and dropped his sword. Clawing at his eyes, he screamed in pain and staggered backward.
Too late, he suddenly realized he had backed inside the inscribed design on the floor. He tried to retreat, but the demon seized him. Picking the assassin up from behind like a father might pick up a baby, the twelve-foot-tall demon tossed the man high into the air, literally bouncing him off the dirt and stone ceiling. Then as the assassin fell, the creature slashed with its bull-like horns, impaling him on the points. The man screamed once and died.
James ignored the gore and turned his attention to the second swordsman, reaching over Means’s shoulder to slash at the man’s throat. A liquid gurgle sounded as the assassin dropped his blade, a stunned look in his eyes as the blood began to flow from his mouth and nose. He made a daubing motion with his left hand at his throat, as if trying to staunch the wound, then he fell forward and expired.