Alric whirled around to see Slorn back atop his wagon with the long metal cannon on his shoulder again, and this time, Miranda was beside him.
“Hold it down!” the bear-headed man bellowed.
He didn’t need to say anything else. Alric threw out his hand and opened his spirit until the entire panicking world was roaring in his ears. He grabbed everything, every weeping spirit, every terrified spec of dust he could touch, and forced them all into one command.
DON’T MOVE.
The world froze, and the demon fell to its knees. It threw its head backward, roaring in defiance as it fought the command, but Alric held it firm. It took everything he had. He could feel the sweat pouring down his face, feel everything in the town fighting his hold in the panic to escape the demon, but he did not let go. With every second that passed, he fought to hold it just a second more, hoping it would be enough.
“Do it!” he shouted. “Do it now!”
On the edge of his vision, he saw Slorn slam the bone-metal slug into his cannon. Behind him, Miranda raised her arms. The spider-legged wagon began to shake as the impossibly blue water raced across it, picking up speed as it flowed from barrel to barrel in an endless loop. Slorn mouthed a command, and the cannon’s metal legs uncurled, anchoring the Shaper on the wagon’s top just as the Spiritualist thrust her hands forward. The second her hands moved, the water followed, blasting itself into the piping at the cannon’s back. There was an enormous crack as the water hit the bone metal, and then the sea’s triumphant roar. The bone-metal slug shot out of the cannon faster than Alric could see, nearly turning the wagon over with its force. It split the air with a whistling scream, flying right past Alric’s ear to land square in the demon’s neck.
The shock wave blasted Alric into the air. He landed on his back in the dirt, but was on his feet in an instant, waving his hands in a desperate attempt to see what had happened. The crater was thick with blown-out dirt. He could hear Slorn’s wagon scrambling behind him, probably trying to right itself after the cannon’s kick, but he couldn’t see anything but yellow, billowing dust.
He’d taken two blind steps when the demon’s claws lashed out of the dust cloud and hit him hard in the shoulder. Alric went down with a shout, raising his sword instinctively to block the next blow. But the claws went right over him, thrashing wildly through the air.
Alric rolled clear, gripping his bleeding shoulder as the dust began to settle. The first thing he noticed was that several of his men were down, knocked over by the blast wave or taken out by the demon, he didn’t know. The cratered arena they’d been fighting in was now twice as deep, and he could see the outline of the demon at its center, still madly lashing out. Alric wiped the dust from his eyes with a bloody hand. How could it still be standing? Had the shot missed? But as his vision cleared, he saw the truth. The demon’s head was gone, blasted clean off, but the body was still fighting. It struck blindly, the claws stabbing out. As he watched, one of the random blows landed in the back of one of his downed men.
Alric shouted, but it was too late. The man screamed as the claw skewered him, and the demon stopped thrashing to lunge at its kill, dragging the man toward its ruined body as its claws began to eat his flesh right then and there, drinking in his power to heal its wounds.
“Shoot it again!” Alric shouted, scrambling up the edge of the crater. “Damn it, Slorn, shoot it again! Now!”
Miranda jumped down from the scrambling wagon, landing on her waiting ghosthound. The water followed her, sliding over her shoulders like a mantle as the hound cleared the distance to Alric in one jump.
“There aren’t any more shots,” she said as Gin slid to a stop. “We only had two.”
Alric gritted his teeth. “Then we do this the hard way.”
Miranda jumped down. “What do you mean the har—Wait!”
But Alric was already gone. He charged through the dust cloud, picking up speed as he ran down the crater toward the demon, who was still eating its victim.
He launched himself off the slope, drawing his sword in a golden flash. Hungry and blind, the demon didn’t raise a claw to defend itself. Alric’s blow sliced into its back, his golden blade peeling through the demon’s shell and into its spine. The creature screamed, and the demon panic hammered Alric’s mind. But he was further than fear could reach. He pressed the blow, cutting down through the demon’s torso. It dropped the soldier and reached backward, clawing wildly at Alric, but it was too late. With a shout of triumph, Alric turned his sword and sliced up through the tissue that connected the seed to its host.
The demon howled. Claws ripped into Alric’s back and threw him down. He landed under the demon’s clawed feet. There was no time to dodge; the thrashing demon’s claws landed right on top of him. He closed his eyes, bracing for the explosion of pain as the demon’s foot ripped into his chest, but he felt nothing. He opened them again, staring up in amazement. The demon’s foot was on his chest, but there was no weight to it. The monster was still thrashing, but with every movement, bits of it were breaking away. The demon was crumbling like ash, breaking apart and floating away. Already, the fear was receding as the demon crumpled in on itself. By the time Alric managed to sit up, it was nothing more than a pile of black dust around a long, black seed.
Alric took a deep, pained breath. It was over. The demon was dead. He looked around, doing a quick count of his men. Two dead for certain, three more lying motionless, but the rest were pushing themselves up. Not bad considering what they’d faced without the Lord of Storms’ backup. But there was one loss he felt more than the others.
Alric looked down at the sword in his hands. The long, slender blade still glowed faintly with its own golden light, but the cutting edge was ravaged. Enormous chunks were missing, leaving great gaps all the way to the core of the blade.
“Dunelle,” he whispered. “My Last Sunlight. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”
“You did what had to be done.” His sword’s ringing voice was warped and muffled with pain, but the pride in the words stood bold and clear. “It has been an honor to serve you, sir.”
The golden light grew dimmer as it spoke, and Alric felt tears in his eyes for the first time in a century. “The honor has been mine,” he whispered, laying the destroyed blade across his knees.
He heard the crunch of boots behind him, but he did not take his eyes from the blade until the last of the golden light faded out completely.
“A noble sword,” Slorn said, his voice soft by Alric’s ear. “One of the finest I ever made.”
Alric nodded, but said nothing. Slorn knelt down beside him. “I know it will be no replacement, but I can make you another blade.”
“I don’t need another blade,” Alric said, sliding his ravaged sword back into its sheath.
Slorn left it at that. “You should see to your wounds.”
“What,” Alric said, “and leave the seed to you?”
Slorn stiffened. “That is not what I meant, but it is Nivel’s seed.” He turned his bear head, staring at the long, black shape lying in the demon’s dusty remains. “It is all I have left of our work together, of our lives. If I was ever kind to you, Alric, if our work ever opened a door of thought in your mind, you will let me study it a moment before you lock it away.”
Alric heaved a deep sigh and waved him on. Slorn stood with a murmur of thanks and walked over to kneel by the seed, staring at it with an intensity Alric had never seen.
“You really should do something about that shoulder,” said a voice behind him. “You’re bleeding everywhere.”
He looked back to see Miranda hovering at the edge of the crater.
“Thank you for your concern, Spiritualist,” he said, pushing himself up. “But your worry is wasted. I am very hard to kill. It is my gift.”
Miranda frowned. “Your gift?”
Alric smiled. It was refreshing to meet someone who didn’t know all the secrets for once. “The League requires great sacrifices of its members. To counterbalance this, the Lord of Storms bestows gifts upon us. Some men choose power, others choose invulnerability. I chose eternal life.”
“You mean you can’t be killed?” Miranda said, impressed.
Alric frowned. “There is a wide difference between eternal life and invulnerability to death. I can be killed just like any other man, given enough damage, but over the years I’ve gotten fairly good at staying alive. Don’t worry, it will take more than this to kill me.”
He left her pondering that and walked off to gather what was left of his men. There was much to clean up
