She hadn’t counted on seeing the skeletons littered across the river bottom. The gleaming white bones, all of them human, lay mired in the mud. Leah didn’t know if the river deposited them there when the demons destroyed some of the bridges or if the current swept the bodies there from shipwrecks and destroyed boats.
Or if the demons simply chucked them there like garbage.
The sight filled Leah with dread. From the beginning of the demon war, Control had stated that they would never be able to win the engagement. The best that the Agency hoped for was to keep the demons from winning as well. At the very least they wanted to at least force the demons to win more slowly and at a more costly price.
That’s not enough, Leah told herself. She thought of the dead men and women she’d known before tonight that wouldn’t return come morning. The Darkspawn were cannon fodder in the plans of the Dark Wills and Greater Demons.
The blow struck tonight had taken out a weapons factory, but that factory would be rebuilt within a few weeks or months. At best, even with all the death and sacrifice involved, this had been a delaying action.
Leah tried to forget about that as she kept swimming. But even that became too much for her as the throbbing pain in her head finally pushed her over into the blackest night she’d ever known.
NINE
The snowdrifts rose higher in the direction of the cliffs. By the time Simon reached them, the Templar plowed through drifts well over waist high. The disguised terrain made footing treacherous. Simon fell more than once and struggled to push himself back up.
As if sensing their prey had nowhere else to run, the Ravagers and Carnagors gathered. Overhead a few winged demons that Simon couldn’t immediately identify flapped through the night air and became silhouetted against the starry brightness.
The Minion remained astride the Fetid Hulk. Reaching back over its shoulder, the demon drew a spear with an obsidian tip that somehow glowed black even in the night. The black light stood out against the pristine white snow.
“Templar,” the Minion snarled in a guttural voice. “Do you want to give up?”
Simon strode forward. Three of the Templar had fallen in combat. Only seven of them stood on the windswept cliffs. No trees or boulders offered temporary cover.
“Who are you?” Simon demanded as he held his sword and shield.
The Minion took a deep breath and shook its blunt head. “For the moment, I am no one. I am not Named. I came to your pitiful world to fight and kill so that I might earn a Name. That’s the way it has always been. Who are you?”
“Simon Cross, of the House of Rorke, and not one who’s of a mind to surrender to demons.”
The demon nodded. “Rorke. That House is known to us.” It grinned, baring yellowed stumps of teeth. “We have killed your ancestors.”
Simon didn’t know if that was true. Human and demon interaction on this world had been slight. He stood there and tried to think of a way out, a way to still survive. Nothing came to mind. Burned by lack of sleep and the stim-packs he’d used to keep himself alert the last few days, he stood swaying.
“Tell me where the rest of you are,” the demon said.
Taking heart in that, Simon stood his ground. If the demon didn’t know where the Templar redoubt was, hope remained. When the hunting team didn’t come back, the others would know that something had happened and would go on high-security alert. They would wait, as Simon had instructed, for a few days and then investigate. The possibility of getting the innocents out of harm’s way still existed.
“There are no more of us,” Simon said.
The Minion laughed mockingly. “Is that your answer, Templar, if I asked you to swear it upon your honor?”
“I have no honor for demons,” Simon said. “Nor courtesy, nor mercy. My kind and yours, demon, only one of us will remain alive on this world.”
“We will find the others,” the demon promised. “Now that I have found you, I will take your head on my spear and let my masters know that other Templar hide out in the woods and hills here. Then we will find them and kill them all.”
“You haven’t killed us yet,” Danielle retorted.
“That will take only a short time,” the Minion said. He leveled his spear at Simon.
Simon barely had time to raise his shield in front of him before a black beam jetted from the spear. The shield dissipated most of the electrical charge from the arcane weapon, but the force involved blew Simon off his feet and knocked him backward.
“Warning,” the suit AI informed calmly. “Defenses down to forty-three percent.”
As one, the Carnagors and Ravagers attacked. Their taloned feet churned through the snow as they raced forward. In the end, though, their numbers worked against them. They got into one another’s way as they strove to attack.
Simon stood and moved to the forefront. Smaller and quicker, the Ravagers struck first. Simon bashed the first one and snapped its neck, but even as its corpse slid down his shield, the next Ravager was already in line. It launched itself at Simon’s head. He swung his sword and nearly cut the Ravager in half. His sword got stuck in the demon’s spine. Stepping on his vanquished enemy, Simon ripped his blade free.
Before he could set himself, the Minion blasted him with the beam from the spear again. This time Simon spotted the green crystals that decorated the haft. They pulsed with energy.
The snow provided treacherous footing. Simon tried to anchor himself, but the spikes only pierced snow and found no purchase. Black flames clung to his armor and obscured his view.
“Defenses down to twenty-eight percent,” the suit AI said.
“Analyze fire,” Simon ordered.
“Analysis incomplete,” the AI responded. “Not enough information in database.”
Despite the armor, Simon felt the heat threatening to sear his skin. He
