Devil's Punch

“Stall them,” Greydusk said.

Chance moved in front of us protectively while I cast another ward. My last. This I remembered because I had been drawing runes all the way through our retreat, but I couldn’t recall any other wards to save my life. Maybe this one would.

The demon’s skin rippled as he shifted; he had fought the shades in Swordwraith form. Hopefully it would prove effective against the Hazo too, who threw themselves repeatedly at the shield, trying to break it down with brute force. They couldn’t circle around; this was the rear part of the palace and there were no other paths. We would pass here, or we would die.

“Retreat around that corner,” Chance ordered. “It’ll help me focus if you’re not in danger.”

I glanced at Shannon, who nodded. Out of sight, we huddled together. She put an arm around me and I leaned in, shaking. Her heart beat too fast as the shield fell. I could tell it had by the combat noises. Screams, blows, madness. I willed it to be over, for Greydusk and Chance to prevail. I had no magick left, or I would have fought beside them.

At last Chance called, “Corine!”

I limped back the way we’d come. Found nine Hazo corpses in a gruesome pile. To my horror, Greydusk lay on his side, blood leaking out of a terrible wound. Shannon sucked in a sharp breath.

Ignoring my own pain, I knelt beside him. “Let’s get you up.”

“The portal room lies just beyond those doors.…” He gasped, one long fingered-hand flexing with the pain. “I…fear I will not be able to finish this task.”

“Bullshit.” Tears prickled in my eyes, and I dashed them away. “Oh, God, Grey, don’t. You said demons don’t have an afterlife. I can’t—”

“You treated me as a man of honor from the beginning. With you, my queen, I was free. That is worth dying for.”

And then there were three.

My Sweetest Downfall

For long moments, I knelt in guilty silence.

“There were too many. They’re so fucking big. Strong. I’m fast, but with five Hazo trying to eviscerate me, I just couldn’t dodge them all. I got tired. And he threw himself in front of me.”

He didn’t need to tell me why. I knew. Because you’re the queen’s consort.

“He died for you—to please me?” Raw anguish scalded my spirit.

“To save you from pain.”

“I should have told him he wasn’t just my minion or whatever. That he was a friend too.”

Shannon put a hand on my shoulder, and for the first time I noticed that our gifts didn’t spark off each other anymore. We hadn’t touched much since the Hazo gave her back to me, and I couldn’t recall when it started. The sinking in my stomach told me I wasn’t human anymore, but despair had to get in line behind my grief.

“He knew,” she said softly. “Why do you think he stayed with you, fought so hard? Demons aren’t known for their altruism.”

No, they weren’t, and the fact that we’d found such a good soul here, of all places, made me wonder about the stories I’d been told. I didn’t know what was true anymore. I wanted to cry but there was no time.

It didn’t seem right to leave him, but Chance was correct when he said, “I need both hands free to fight.”

“Give me another minute.” Laying my hands on Greydusk’s brow, I whispered to him in thanks and affection. Maybe the Imaron had been right; there was nothing left of demons after they died, but I spoke the words for myself.

Then, with great regret, I picked up my purse—which Greydusk had gone to so much trouble to save for me and checked on Butch; he was terrified but whole—and then slung it over my shoulder. My heart ached as I limped away from Greydusk’s body. His loyalty shouldn’t have meant giving up everything for me, but he wouldn’t want us to die either. I squared my shoulders, pressed the fear down, and led Shannon and Chance toward the final door. Tears stung my eyes; I stepped through, partly blinded by them.

The room was massive, full of imposing statuary in weird, demonic shapes, molded arches, and a fountain in the center. Along each wall to the right and left there were mirrors twice as tall as a man, not made of glass but of hammered silver. Magickal lights hung around the perimeter in ornate sconces, and I noticed four shadows at the far end that didn’t come from the marble statues.

Then the spell hit us.

It tingled in a familiar way, but my bracelet deflected it. Tia’s gift broke into rusted metal shards, falling from my wrist. I recognized the feel of the snare spell and whirled, dashing the tears from my eyes. Oz. From his appearance, times had been hard; his robe was ripped and stained. Unfortunately, he also had a Hazo and a couple of Saremon minions as his honor guard.

We were so fucked.

Need two hands free to fight. As one, we dropped our belongings, but I was careful with my purse.

“Hide,” I ordered the dog.

Chance and Shannon sprinted for the lesser threats. I guessed they reckoned if they could kill the other mages quickly, it would limit the amount of magick flying around. Oz didn’t waste time. He slammed another spell and ice frosted the place where I’d been standing. I wasn’t anymore. I rolled behind a huge statue, stifling a moan at how it aggravated my injuries. If he couldn’t see me, he couldn’t target me.

The Hazo roared. I peered around the stone thigh and saw the enormous demon charge. Chance rolled under the attack and came up with fiery fists to punch the first Saremon. He didn’t need to kill him with one blow. The flames leapt to the mage’s robe, and once the arcane fire started, there was no way in hell the demon could focus enough to cast. He ran, screaming, slapping at the fabric to no avail. Which left three.

Shannon stabbed the second Saremon while Oz aimed another spell at me. I ducked out of sight, racking my brain as to how I could help with a bad leg, one good eye, and little magick left. A shade sprang up behind me and I had to find new cover before the thing touched me and sucked all the life out of me.

I ran out into the chaos of combat; the Hazo chased Shannon, who hadn’t managed to kill the second Saremon. The first lay dead in a smoking pile, and Chance had turned his attention to the second mage. It made sense to deal with the enemies who died most easily, but it showed a cold, menacing side of him that sent shivers through me, even as I appreciated his expertise. The mage, however, took a page from my book and ran like hell away from Chance. Which at least meant he wasn’t lobbing spells.

“Watch out for the shade!” I croaked, but it was enough, loud enough that Chance and Shannon registered the threat.

Then inspiration struck. I dug deep in my memory, fighting past the layers that had belonged to Ninlil and found what was truly my mine—and my mother’s before me. I drew my athame and angled my head; if I was fast, I should be able to get this spell off before the shade reached me. My hands shook as I pulled the weak, thready bits of power remaining to me. They were like magickal cobwebs, clinging to my mind. The slash of darkness radiated cold, sweeping closer and closer as I shaped the spell, spindling the power until it reached sufficient mass.

With a final twirl of my athame, I released and the Hazo went blind. Shannon gave me a grateful nod and I ran from the shade with as much speed as I could muster. Exhaustion hammered at the back of my eyes, burned in my muscles. I don’t see how we can win this. But we’d fight, until there was nothing left.

The enraged warrior demon charged blindly and slammed into a wall. Impact knocked it down, but I couldn’t watch for long. Oz had summoned the shade to deal with me, so it hunted me relentlessly through room. I kited it, but I had no damage spells to use against it. Ninlil had been the queen of those; my mother hadn’t used her powers that way.

Come on, I screamed silently. Wake up. Greydusk is dead because you’re a coward. Don’t let us die too.