end of the corridor. Ethan stepped into the hallway and closed the door. He heard a commotion coming from downstairs. A glass broke. Ethan knelt down at the second floor landing to see what was happening in the main room of the inn.
A group of pirates had congregated near the bar. The pirate captain from earlier stood at the forefront. He held the barkeep by the shirt with his good arm. “Where are they?” he bellowed as he pulled the man halfway across the mahogany countertop. Two of the captain’s men cocked the hammers on their pistols and placed them on either side of the barkeep’s head.
He’s going to tell them. Ethan knew silver coins wouldn’t keep the man from saving his own skin.
“They’re up in seven!” he confessed.
The pirate captain grinned, showing all of the cavities he had been cultivating in his smile. He shoved the barkeeper back into the ceramic mugs stacked against the back wall. They flew in every direction as the barkeeper spilled to the floor in a heap. “Come on, lads. We’ve got revenge to take in number seven tonight!”
As the men turned toward the stairs, Ethan caught sight of other visitors in the bar with the pirates. Demons! Ethan hurried back to the room and shut the door quickly, hoping that he and Gideon could still sneak out in time.
As Ethan turned to wake Gideon, the head of a demon rose through the dusty floorboards, its form passing through solid matter. Ethan froze mid-step, startled by the sudden appearance of an enemy there in the dark. For a second, he almost forgot the creature could not see him.
The demon ascended into the dark room, until its feet cleared the floor. Then it looked around, searching the shadows for anyone else who might be present. The demon wore the same black and red garment as the others-Mordred’s colors. A sword hung near the creature’s hip, suspended in mid-air.
The demon hopped up to the edge of the bed’s footboard, perching there like a vulture over its prey. Ethan couldn’t decide what to do. If he woke Gideon, the demon might kill him. If he did not, at the very least, the pirates were coming up the stairs to kill them both. He had no choice.
“Gideon, there’s a demon in the room, wake up!”
The creature did not move until Gideon flinched and sat up. The demon snatched the sword hanging by its side. Ethan dove across the space between the door and the bed, catching Gideon with both hands. The demon slashed into the mattress, just as Ethan pulled Gideon out of the way, onto the floor.
The blade tore a huge gash through the bed, sending goose down up in a white plume. The boys rolled off the floor to their feet with Gideon still held in Ethan’s grasp. They backed into a corner as the demon frantically searched for the invisible boys.
The pirates came down the hall. Their heavy footsteps fell on the old floorboards like an army on the move. The demon ran out of the room, its body passing through the wooden door unhindered.
Gideon and Ethan grabbed the weapons they had commandeered earlier and rushed toward the window. The door burst open behind them, slamming into the wall as Gideon followed Ethan over the windowsill. The pirate captain spotted them and fired his pistol.
Gideon rolled down the slope of the roof out of control, until Ethan grabbed him. “Thanks,” Gideon said.
The pirate captain appeared at the window. He howled in pain as his men pushed behind him, mashing his broken arm. “Off me, you dogs!”
Ethan and Gideon ran along the shingles until they found an adjacent rooftop. It stood about ten feet lower than the roof of the Weary Traveler with a gap of fifteen feet. “We’ll have to jump for it,” Gideon said.
Ethan was not afraid of heights, by any means, but the jump looked like a one-way ticket to a broken ankle. Gideon took a good run and sailed over the expanse. His loose-fitting, priestly attire billowed around him. He dropped to the neighboring rooftop, allowing his body to collapse at the knees. He rolled out of it and back to his feet.
Ethan didn’t know if he could make it or not. He was quite sure his attempt would not be as graceful as Gideon’s, even if he did make it. The sound of pirates smashing through the window and spilling out onto the roof convinced him.
Ethan backed up, then surged forward into the fastest run he could manage before running out of rooftop. He kicked off with the last step, vaulting through the air. There was nothing now but wind and gravity in the dark. He tried to judge the distance and speed, but didn’t quite manage it. He landed with a bounce, of sorts, shaking every bone in his body from his feet upward. His tuck and roll fumbled into a stagger and crash.
Ethan hit the roof hard with his shoulder and face. Gideon rushed to him and helped Ethan back to his feet. The left side of his face felt numb, yet it burned at the same time. Blood dripped from cuts on his cheek and shoulder.
More pistol fire erupted behind them. Gunpowder flashed in the dark. They heard shots whiz through the air around them, ricocheting off the rooftop as they ran across it trying to find a way down to the street. The deep voice of the pirate captain bellowed behind them, “Bring me their heads!”
OVER THE ROOFTOPS
The demons had taken up the chase by now, but they were not going to get far without natural eyes. The clientele inside the Weary Traveler suited their special needs. The nightly patrons were just the sort of dregs and addicts who made it easy for the demons to move right in, control their weak minds, and inhabit their bodies.
The heavy wooden door burst open, and a motley crew of demon-controlled bar patrons spilled out into the street. This lot would not clamor on the rooftops with bumbling pirates. They took the swifter route through the streets. Now they had natural eyes with which to see Shaddai’s Deliverer.
There was an old woman in her eighties. She had lived a hard life addicted to Pharmakia and could barely walk these days. But under the control of these dark forces, particularly the demon leading the brigade, she was more spry than a ten year old on chocolate.
The next was a man in his fifties. He had served in a previous war, losing an arm for his service. A hooked hand now resided in its place. Hook hand had lost his wife to a bout of plague sweeping through Tilley nearly ten years ago. These days he was a regular patron at the Weary Traveler, mostly because they allowed him to purchase his drink on credit for a few days at a time.
The last was a young man who swept and mopped the inn. He was also responsible for removing the rowdies. Being a man of considerable size, he would bounce them out on their heads into the street whenever the barkeep gave him leave. Being a bit of a street bully growing up, the bouncer enjoyed this part of his job the most.
Three demons had been near the docks when the wounded pirate captain had shown up earlier screaming his head off about his broken arm and the young man who had done it. When the captain’s arm had been set into a splint onboard his ship, by the resident surgeon, the same three demons had been listening.
The pirate captain had sworn his revenge on the young man in the green cloak and the ruddy youth traveling with him. When the captain had organized his men to go back to the Weary Traveler inn, three demons had followed them. They waited to see exactly who the youths were and where they could be found. Now, the pirates had flushed out the prey. Three demons sped down the dark streets of Tilley inhabiting the only three people who had not fled the inn when the pirates had returned.
Five blocks away from the Weary Traveler Inn, Ethan and Gideon paused, attempting to find a safe way down to the streets, or a way to circle back to the stables and their horses. The noisy pursuit of the pirates had faded by now as the boys had nimbly outmaneuvered them several rooftops back. The city sounded alive below them. People made their way to taverns where they could spend what little money they had on drink and frivolity.
“There’s an alley on this side with some crates and hay bales, Gideon. Do you think we could make the drop here?”
Gideon walked over to where Ethan was standing on the edge of the roof. Under the cast of an oil burning street lamp, they saw what appeared to be a delivery yard for a seed and feed business. Bales of hay and stacks of seed bags lay just beneath them. A wagon sat parked on the opposite side. The drop from here was more than
