Farther back up the tunnel, the first of the demons had started coming through the hole, dropping to all fours. They barked and growled, then lifted their weapons and started firing.
Dodging around the corner, Simon checked to make certain Derek was still moving under his own speed. “Wertham.”
“Yes?”
“Have you reached the other end of the tunnel? Is the way open?” Simon didn’t relish the idea of blasting the tunnel closed and effectively creating their own tomb. It was possible that they could somehow dig their way out, but he didn’t want to risk it.
“Give me a minute. Almost there.”
“Simon,” Derek called, “blow the tunnel.”
Footsteps, picked up by the armor’s enhancements, sounded in the tunnel around the corner. They were rapidly growing closer.
If the tunnel’s blocked, even if the tunnel’s not blown up and closed, we can’t get past the demons. They’ll kill us all. I’ll only be delaying—
“It’s here!” Wertham shouted. “We can get out!”
“Simon, blow—”
Using the armor’s systems, Simon detonated the explosives as the footsteps sounded right around the corner and he hurled himself forward. The concussion shivered through the tunnel, causing the floor to vibrate under Simon’s feet. Then it overtook him and blew him forward, enveloping him in a coil of yellow and orange flames.
He cut off my hand! Even as he stared at the bloody stump that truncated his arm, Warren couldn’t believe it. He’d been watching Merihim push out of the disc and hadn’t even seen the armored figure until it was too late.
There wasn’t as much pain as he thought there should be. In fact, there was hardly any pain at all. Merihim screaming inside his brain was worse. The demon was angry and hurting, roaring with rage as it got to its feet.
Naomi leaned over him, holding him down with her weight as she fought to wrap his wrist with the bootlace she’d taken from his boot. “Lie still! You’re going to bleed to death! Lie still!”
Warren didn’t care. Another horrible thing had happened to him because he couldn’t defend himself. Because no one cared enough about him to protect him. Chill weakness passed through him, stealing his strength and fading his vision. He continued to struggle, but he was too weak to fight against Naomi.
She got the bootlace tied around his wrist and somehow managed to stop the bleeding.
“Don’t,” he whispered. “Please, don’t.” He was ready to die. She didn’t know that, but he was. He was prepared now, while he was still in shock. He wasn’t afraid. Death could come for him now and he wouldn’t fight. He fumbled for the bootlace with his other hand, wanting to untie it and bleed out.
Naomi captured his hand. “Stop,” she said. “Please stop, Warren.”
“He cut my hand off!” Warren’s voice sounded weak in his ears.
“I know,” Naomi said. “I know. It’s going to be all right.”
“I’m a cripple!”
“You’re alive.”
Hot tears flooded Warren’s eyes. He didn’t want to be alive. He wanted to be dead. And he wanted the man who had crippled him to be dead too.
“Look out,” Tulane said. “Here they come.”
Warren barely noticed the approaching demons. Some of them had slipped down into the hole the armored men had blown through the floor. But the others closed on the Cabalists. There was no doubt what they had in mind.
One of the Darkspawn picked up Warren’s severed hand and grinned.
A Fetid Hulk, a great green demon that towered above the others and looked vaguely like an unfinished clay model of a human, snorted and slavered behind the Darkspawn. Smooth scales covered it. Its head was huge and monstrous, smooth and earless, showing off a large maw filled with sharp teeth.
Still grinning, the Darkspawn tossed Warren’s hand into the air. The Fetid Hulk’s head whipped forward on its elongated neck and caught the hand in its mouth.
“No!” Warren shouted, trying to get up again.
The Fetid Hulk chewed a couple of times, crunching through the bones, then swallowed. It gazed at Warren again, as if speculating where to start next.
The demons started forward, baring blades, obviously intending to make their kills on unprotected prey as personal as possible.
Merihim stepped between them. No, the demon said. These are mine. I claim them.
The demons grimaced and growled unhappily. Three of them started forward.
Merihim gestured at one of them with his great trident. The Gremlin started screaming and slapping at its head. In the next instant, the demon’s head burst like a blood-filled balloon.
The other demons drew back.
Go, Merihim told them. Pursue the others if you will, but leave these alone.
Reluctantly, the demons backed off.
Yes, Merihim said a moment later, the dead ones you can have.
The demons pounced on the corpses in a frantic scramble. The room filled with the smacking and crunching of their feeding.
Merihim turned to Warren. You let them take Balekor’s Hammer.
Warren didn’t reply. He only hoped that death would claim him quickly.
You’re not going to die, Merihim said. I still have use for you.
I can die if I want to, Warren thought. There’s nothing you can do. He could already feel his heart slowing and see that his vision was graying around the edges.
Merihim walked over to him.
Warren felt Naomi’s grip tighten on his arm and knew that she was afraid. He didn’t care. He didn’t care about anything.
Then the demon leaned down and placed his hand across Warren’s chest. Live, he commanded.
Without warning, electricity surged through Warren’s body. Only it wasn’t electricity. It was something else. Something more powerful and more ethereal. His heartbeat sped up again.
And pain returned to him in a huge wave that splintered all hope of dying. No one who was going to die could be in that much agony.
“My hand!” Warren yelled. Because everything he’d missed feeling earlier, he felt now.
Merihim picked
