He bounced off the ceiling, coming down in a shower of stones and half landing in the muck that trapped Jardir. Before he could extricate himself, the mind drew more wards, freezing the muck solid, trapping his leg.
Arlen grabbed the largest stone he could reach, throwing it into the air and drawing an impact ward. The sandstone exploded, and in the spray he saw the outline of the demon, raising its arms to shield itself. Arlen threw his warded knife at it as hard as he could, then planted his hands and tore his leg free of the frozen mud. Cracks spiderwebbed out from the spot, and they were deepened and multiplied a moment later as the rock bowed upward.
Jardir was still fighting.
The demon hit the ground hard, losing its cloak of distortion. It reached to pull the knife from its ribs, but its talons smoked as it tried to grip the handle, and Arlen smiled. He drew the same series of wards the mind had used a moment earlier, but the demon was wise to the trick, floating atop the mud as easily as solid ground. It dissipated and Arlen’s favorite knife fell free, sinking into the mud, lost.
With the trap still in place, the mind could not go far, and in its ethereal state, it was unable to draw wards or absorb magic. Arlen sketched a quick series of wards to send a shock of magic through the cloud, forcing it to solidify.
The floor shook again, and the Spear of Kaji broke the surface of the stone. Arlen used the moment of distraction, closing the distance in an instant. He caught the demon’s horns in his sizzling grasp, pulling hard as he slammed the impact ward tattooed on the top of his head right between its eyes.
Arlen felt the ground shake again as Jardir worked to tear himself free of the trap, but he refused to be distracted, hammering the demon’s conical head over and over. The coreling prince had swollen again, as big as a wood demon and stronger by far. Arlen had to draw his own defensive wards in close in order to strike, giving the demon the ability to strike back. It shoved hard, and they hit the ground, grappling.
“Even the creatures of Nie draw breath, Par’chin!” Jardir called. Arlen grit his teeth, accepting the claws and spiny ridges that cut at him as he worked his way into a choke hold.
There was a sound, and he realized it was his own screams, but still he held on.
Renna wanted to lose consciousness, but even as the demon began to eat her, she could not give in. She pulled at the magic of Anoch Sun, hoping, praying for some help, but she could not focus the power with wards, or use it to create air in her burning bloodstream.
But then, as if from a great distance, she heard it.
The call of the Core.
Through the cracks of the shattered stone, deep in the Ala, a song resonated, just as Arlen had described it so long ago. Calling to her like a Jongleur to a reel, or her mother’s arms to a warm embrace. There would be no pain there. No more struggle. Nothing but the warm glow of the Creator’s power.
She reached for it, and the pain fell away. The demon’s claws closed on empty air as she sank beneath the surface, racing to touch that infinite power, leaving behind all the pain of the surface. No more demons. No more people, as apt to hurt as help.
No more sunrises, burning her as they took away the magic she absorbed in the night.
No more Arlen, holding her and whispering his love.
She pulled up short. How far had she gone? The Core was closer, its song a roaring now, the surface a distant thing. She strained her senses along the path behind her, and could still make out, just barely, the sounds of battle.
Arlen, fighting alongside his greatest enemy for the sake of the human race. Shanvah, ignoring her father as he bled to death, holding back a demon horde. And her, fleeing for a warm embrace.
She reversed course, flowing back out of the cracks in the floor. She saw the mimic hammering at the forbidding surrounding Arlen, Jardir, and the mind demon, but even as it kept the mind in, the barrier kept the demon out. At last it turned its attention to Shanvah, moving for her unprotected back.
Renna reached out to stop it, but she had no limbs, her body still insubstantial. She willed herself back to solidity, but as Arlen had warned, it was not so easily done. She felt the cloud her body had become drawing back together, but it was slow to respond. She concentrated, remembering her limbs and willing them back into existence, but knew it would not happen in time. Claws leading, the mimic struck.
KA-CHUNG!
A crank bow bolt tore through the demon’s throat, exploding out the other side in a spray of ichor. The demon turned to Shanjat, even this grievous wound healing, as the warrior dropped the bow to hang from its strap as he charged in with his spear.
“Nie take me, demon, before I let you touch my daughter!” Shanjat’s attack was uneven, the blow to his head and loss of blood taking much of his strength and balance, but his aim was true. The spear sank deep into the demon, and it howled as its magic was drained and turned against it as waves of killing power. Just a fraction of that energy flowed up the shaft as feedback, but Renna could see how it restored balance to Shanjat’s aura, bringing him fully into the fight once more.
The demon melted away from the spear, reforming, but Renna, too, was solid again, fully healed and feeling stronger than ever before. Her punch crumpled the demon’s face, knocking it across the chamber once more.
“Hold the door!” she cried, and then crossed the tomb in an eyeblink, hammering at the demon, keeping it off balance and unable to focus. It burst into mist, but this time Renna joined it, remembering Arlen’s description of his battle with the mind on the path to the Core. She intermingled with its essence, latching onto it with her own, and touched its will.
The demon was not intelligent by human standards. Perhaps as wise as a child, though that was far more than the mindless drones that dominated demonkind.
Not intelligent, but its will was strong. It wanted only to protect its mind, would do anything to achieve that end. Renna stood in its way, and it struggled against her desperately.
But while the demon’s will was focused on protecting its mind, for Renna, all humanity was at stake. All humanity, and Arlen most of all. If she did not stop it, everything would be lost, and she might as well have fled to the Core. Might as well have given in and let her father have his way, as Lainie had. What good was her entire worthless life, if she could not do this?
She caught the mimic’s will in the vise of her own and crushed it, scattering its essence. It burst apart in a shower of magic, and was gone.
Jardir drove the butt end of the Spear of Kaji into the frozen stone one last time, shattering the final piece that held him. The Par’chin was howling in agony as he wrestled the alagai prince, but his Sharum spirit remained undiminished. He held.
A single throw of the spear, and he could end them both. His greatest rival and the most powerful alagai he had ever faced. He could end them, and return triumphant to Everam’s Bounty, setting right whatever chaos had arisen from his absence. Without the Par’chin to flock to, the greenlanders’ resistance would collapse, and in the abyss, Nie’s servants would shake with terror at the power of Everam’s warriors.
All he had to do was throw, and live with betrayal a second time. A heavy price, perhaps, but was any price too great, if it meant advantage in Sharak Ka?
We must not become demons in order to fight them. The Par’chin’s words echoed in his mind.
Nie take me, he thought, before I betray my true friend again.
He slipped the spear into its harness on his back, pulled the hood of his Cloak of Unsight over his head, and reached into the pouch at his waist.
The demon was weakening. Arlen could feel it. While he could Draw upon the power of Anoch Sun, the mind was cut off by the forbidding, and its reserves were fast emptying. Still, it was proving his match. He had needed to cut power to the wards that kept it from touching his skin in order to maintain the choke hold, and the bones and skin of its scrawny neck had hardened into what felt like diamond. He was hurting his hands as much as the demon.
But I can breathe, he thought. It can’t.
The demon’s mouth opened in a silent scream, baring black gums and dozens of needle teeth. The jaws stretched impossibly, bringing the teeth closer and closer to his face. He could taste the foul reek of its rancid breath. Its spittle struck his cheek, and he retched.
But then a fist struck the jaws, shattering teeth and knocking them away from him. He looked over, expecting to see Jardir, but it was Renna who stood there, as bright with magic as he had ever seen her. Her face was set with hard determination, and her aura shone with strength.
He felt tears welling in his eyes and wanted to speak, but it was all he could do to keep his hold as she hammered the demon again and again.
Then, suddenly, Jardir appeared behind the demon, whipping the silver chain Arlen had spent countless hours warding over its head. Before it could catch a breath, Arlen let go his hold, and Jardir pulled the chain tight, its wards flaring.
The demon shook violently, attempting to dissipate, but that power was robbed from it now. It shrank back to its former slender size, hoping to find some slack, but Jardir kept the chain tight, and when the demon seemed unable to shrink farther, Arlen slipped a warded padlock into the links, snapping it shut.
All three of them hammered at it now, Jardir twisting with the smooth efficiency of sharukin as he caught each of the demon’s limbs in twists of the silver chain like he was tying a hog at the Solstice festival. It fell to one knee, then face-first on the ground. After a moment it ceased to struggle, and its aura went flat. Arlen snapped another lock two links looser about its throat and undid the first, letting the unconscious creature draw a shallow breath.