This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, organizations, places, events, and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

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Published by Kindle Press, Seattle, 2017

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Contents

Start Reading

Prologue

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

Epilogue

Civilizations rise and fall with the regularity of the tides. Only to mortal eyes do they seem timeless. On any given earth, in any given universe, I have watched wonders blossom and horrors birth themselves with equal regularity, but only rarely have either of those things truly been significant in the scale of the universe. Most actions, while free and independent, result in the same as their inverse might have done.

Choose to cross the street or not—the universe doesn’t care. A decision such as that ultimately gets folded back into eternity, causing not even a ripple in the flow of time.

Not all decisions are so trivial.

There are key moments in time, places where the universe may be struck just so . . . and by doing so, even a mortal can birth an entirely new destiny and an entirely new universe.

I have seen these moments come and pass, unnoticed and wasted, and in their passing I grieved each time for what might have been.

When a will is turned on them, however, and the universe is struck just so . . . the reverberations can sound across universes, back through time, and ring the walls of Eden itself.

This is the story of such a moment in time, a moment grasped and not allowed to pass into the dark of the night, but rather dragged out by the light of a knight.

I am Nimue. I have been here since the beginning. I will be here at the end.

It is my honor to watch those who walk the path of the knights and, very occasionally, offer them aid.

When the moment comes for you . . . will you grasp it?

Prologue

Evacuations were almost complete. The realm had all but been sealed now, with only one remaining path into the white beyond.

Those who remained were merely cleaning up the last details, ensuring that they had left no significant variables that might aid the horde on its path through the dimensions. In the midst of the final cleanup, one of the rearguard commanders paused and looked around in some confusion.

“What’s wrong?” another of the Triad asked, noticing the expression and hesitation.

“Something has changed.”

“This realm is fallen. Everything here has changed,” the third of the Triad said with a derisive snort.

The second mentally scowled. “Do not be so disrespectful. They fought well.”

“They lost.”

The first silenced them with a gesture of power, startling both.

“I said, something has changed,” the first reiterated, piercing both with a stare that caused them to focus more. “Look.”

They heard the tonal expression in the order, and both did as they were bade and looked.

There was a moment of stunned silence.

“What changed?” the second asked, tone becoming urgent. “The dark is clouded, the future shrouded. This was not the way of things a moment ago, I know.”

“We all know,” the first said calmingly. “I told you. Something changed. Find the source.”

“In an entire realm?” the third asked, incredulous. “We are to leave shortly. There is no time.”

The first glowered. “I will not leave until I know this realm is lost. Find the change. It must be close to the breach. Nothing farther out would cloud the immediate future this much.”

The Triad abandoned their tasks and focused their intent and will on the breach world, the center of this universe, looking for something—anything—that could have affected the fates as it had.

Somewhere down there in the limited dimensions of mortal man, someone had thrown a spike into the wheels of fate. They would find it.

Chapter 1

The rain came down in sheets, but the blonde girl on the cliff overlooking the sea ignored it as she focused inwardly. Elanthielle, now of the newly named island of Atlantis, could vaguely feel that she was soaked through, but the weather was warm, and the rain only slightly offered any chill. She had endured worse in the past, and as much as she hoped not to, she expected to endure far worse again in the future.

She felt her body fall away as she slipped into the dreaming. Her own dreaming, at least. It was freeing to drift as she felt a deep and powerful vibration roar through her soul.

She opened her eyes and looked around, recognizing the cliff she had chosen for her meditations and the sea beyond. As she turned around, Elan looked down on her own seated body and felt a sense of satisfaction, as she was certain she had succeeded.

The dreaming.

It had been a goal of her father before he’d been murdered, and it had become a goal of her younger self before she’d known even what it meant or was. A deep dive into the human mind and then beyond into what was known as the overmind, the dreaming was a potent source of insight and power of the human psyche. It had also been a curse as she suffered in the desert, tormenting her with water that would not quench her thirst, heat that would not warm her bones, and a chill that couldn’t quell her fever . . . yet it had saved her life by calling Kaern to her aid.

Kaern.

As she thought of her savior, she felt herself being tugged back to her body, a light sensation that doubled and then tripled again and again until she was yanked hard into her body, and then her eyes opened wide as she sucked in a deep, shocked breath. The storm threw water into her face, sea spray and rain alike, but she ignored it as her hair was plastered to her face and chest, her synthilk shirt clinging to her skin.

Kaern, the demon who . . . wasn’t?

She didn’t understand him, the man who had saved her. The man who’d seen something in her that made no sense to her even now, after everything that had happened. He claimed to be a demon, but he had seemed like just a man . . . or perhaps, not just anything.

Elan sighed and climbed to her feet.

She would get no more meditations done today, her success notwithstanding. The turmoil she felt when she thought of Kaern never failed to ruin her inner balance. She looked up to the gray sky, then walked back away from the cliff. She paused only to pick up her belt and sidearm from where she had left them hanging on an old dying tree, belting it back around her waist as she walked.

The city—more of a village, really—was laid out below her as she walked. Stone buildings, constructed by hand and with help from Merlin’s machines, had risen shockingly fast, with room enough for everyone. She even had her own home, a space to herself, thankfully. That had been something far more important to her than she had realized it could be—a place away from the press of people around her, a retreat from the noise and general chaos of the village.

It wasn’t that Elan didn’t like people—she did—but she really didn’t know how to deal with them. She’d grown up with only her mother at first and then eventually her father as well. More than two people around her felt like a crowd, like something very wrong was happening. Her early life had been spent like that, and now it was just the way she thought it should be.

Most of the time she only spoke with Caleb and Simone, the only two she knew now besides Merlin.

Merlin.

There was another part of her new life that Elan had not the slightest clue how to deal with or to categorize. Merlin was a spirit bound to the earth, something called an elemental intelligence. The two words made sense to her separately, but together they were nothing more than gibberish . . . which suited Merlin well, as everything out of his mouth—assuming that he had a mouth—was gibberish.

Merlin had saved her, though, and had shown her a new path to fight the monsters that ruled the lands. She likely could never repay the odd intelligence for that guidance, but such as it was, she would take everything he had shown her and direct it to fighting the demons. That was the only thing she really had left in this life, other than Merlin, Simone, and Caleb.

Everyone else . . . well, they were . . . strange.

Elan didn’t know how else to describe the few thousand or so people they had managed to save from the city before the demons had destroyed it ahead of their escape. Before, her limited experience with them was largely being ignored, but since the wave had taken the demons and they’d arrived here on Atlantis, the people had changed. They looked at her strangely. They talked strangely when she was around. They were just . . . strange.

She tried not to let it affect her, but it certainly didn’t help her want to get to know all that many people.

Merlin’s odd little machines, things he called builders, aptly enough, were working on the outer walls as she approached. Stone fortifications that seemed to grow from the ground at need. She really didn’t understand how the builders did their job, but she had never seen stone so smooth or even before. The island was safe enough, but just the same, the first priority after shelter was to put in defensive structures. Elan didn’t know much about defense—frankly, her training under her father, and later, Simone, had focused on the offensive—but it seemed like people felt afraid without them.

She didn’t know why. They hadn’t done much for the city as far as she could tell, but the builders would just be sitting around anyway, and of the people involved . . . well, everyone needed something to do.

The city was humble even to her eye . . . and Elan had grown up in a stone hut that stood alone in the badlands. But Atlantis was theirs and hers. The crude liquid stone that the builders worked with made for simple buildings, but they were solid and strong. Arrayed around the island’s best source for fresh water, the village was peaceful, and one could almost forget the nightmares that existed beyond the shores.

Almost.

“Elan!”

She glanced up at the voice, shaking off the dark thoughts that had started to take her and smiling slightly as she saw Caleb running toward her with a tanned skin flung over his head to hold off the rain.

“Hail, Caleb.” She laughed at him as he approached. “Are you afraid you’ll wash away? I know you’re mostly made of the dirt you forget to scrub clean, but I didn’t know it was this bad.”

He rolled his eyes. “Funny you are not, Elan. What are you doing out in this storm? It’s crazy out here!”

“I grew up in the desert badlands, Caleb,” she told him simply as they walked toward her small home. “Rain, any rain, is a gift. I do not care what form it comes in.”

He scoffed at her, keeping himself well covered as they reached the small stone home that Elan now called her own. It had a lock, something that Merlin and Simone had both tried to explain to her multiple times. Not the concept so much, but the idea of why it would be needed.

It had taken Caleb saying one word before she was willing to understand.

Venadrin.

The betrayer, the man who’d taken her father’s trust and used it to kill him and her mother. She still had nightmares about him, more so than all the demons she had fought, more than the monsters of her dreams. He haunted her, more so in death than he had in life even.

If a human could betray and murder, then they could enter and steal. She palmed the lock, deftly contorting her fingers to set the pins into their places, and then pushed the door open as she went through with Caleb close behind.

It was warm inside—a fire burning in the corner saw to that—and Elan casually unbuckled her sidearm and set it on the bench that doubled as a small table when she wanted to eat alone . . . which was most times. Beyond that was a bed in a separate room and what Merlin referred to as a “positively barbaric” washroom that felt downright luxurious to Elan. The small home was bare of decorations.

In that, however, she was normal among the survivors. Few, if any, had arrived with more than the clothing they wore, a few trinkets or valuables they’d been able to stuff into a pouch or pocket, and perhaps a weapon or two either taken from the city or claimed from demon kills along the way.

Comfort lay in survival and safety, and in that they were, for the moment, quite comfortable.

Perhaps too much so.

“Why were you out in the rain if you dislike it so much, Cal?” Elan asked softly as she stripped her shirt off and laid it by the fire.

Caleb flushed red almost instantly, turning half away. Elan found it funny, but of course she’d never had another person around her besides family growing up. Simone had been forced to take her aside shortly after arriving on the island to explain the “mysteries” of growing up. Little about it made a lot of sense to her, but she had noticed those few who were close to her age, like Caleb, sneaking looks at her. So far she had little desire to sneak looks back, though Simone told her that would come.

Elan rather doubted it.

“I . . . uh . . . I was just worried about you,” Caleb confessed, staring avidly at the wall, rather than where his traitorous eyes kept trying to flick over to.

“There are no demons here, for a long way around,” she said softly as she grabbed a rougher tunic shirt and pulled it on, then tied it closed. “You can turn around now.”

Caleb hesitantly did so, sighing as he saw that she’d put on a tunic. “It doesn’t take a demon to get hurt, Elan. This is a bad storm. Simone wanted me to check as well. She asked if you would come to dinner.”

“Not tonight.” Elan shook her head. “I’ll be in the library.”

“You spend too much time there,” Caleb gently chided. “You should come out, have a little fun.”

Her face set, as though in stone. “The demons are still out there, Caleb.”

“They always have been, Elan, and they always will be,” Caleb said, his tone a little plaintive as he tried to get through to her. “That’s the way things are.”

“No!” she snapped. “No, they haven’t always been there. There was a time before. Look at this house. It was built by things left behind by our people, Caleb. People who grew up, lived their whole lives, and never saw a demon. If it was like that once, it can be again.”

“Elan, you can’t put water back into a broken vessel,” he told her, using a phrase she’d heard from Simone in the past. “That isn’t how the world works.”

“Then I will make it work that way,” she hissed. “My father died because he wanted to cleanse the world.”

“And his war followed him home, remember?” Caleb said, then instantly clapped his hand to his mouth.

“Yes.” Elan sneered at him, her expression cold now, as from ice rather than stone. “I do remember.”

She pushed past him, snagging her belt from the bench as she did, whipping it around her hips.

“Lock the door when you leave.”

Then she was gone.

*****

Elan stalked, now wet again and cold, into the old redoubt of the forebears at the center of the town. Those who saw her coming also saw the expression on her face and moved aside, though she tried to appear as if she didn’t notice them as she stomped by.

Inside, she made her way to the transport center and, now with the ease of practice, selected her destination and vanished in a pulse of light that had become at least somewhat familiar to those around. The cold metal glowed brightly as she touched it, so slick beneath her fingers that she almost felt like it was sliding away as she tried to press her hand against it. The ancient outpost was such a mystery that few others had desired to use it—even fewer still were capable, in fact—but Elan treated the entire place with an almost proprietary air that only solidified her image in their eyes.

The stories about her varied.

To some she was just short of a warrior goddess, the elfin child who struck down demons with the power of the gods. Those who’d seen her march down the hillside, casting lightning from the oddly shaped bow in her right hand, would never see her as anything else.

Others remembered watching her strike down a man in cold blood, demon collaborator though he might have been. To them, she was a killer. A killer for their side, perhaps, but a killer just the same.

The only thing they agreed on in regard to the blonde was that she was not someone to trifle with. They always made way as she passed, especially given the various grumbling epithets she was usually muttering under her breath and the cloud of doom that hung over her.

A few wondered what had angered her so much. Most didn’t really want to know.

*****

“Calm down.”

Elan ignored the order as she stalked through the pristine halls of the facility known only as Avalon.

Merlin sighed as he chased along behind her on the way to the library.

Merlin had been the caretaker of Avalon for as long as it existed, which was technically longer than the world had existed—considerably longer, in fact. In all that time, he had yet to work out how to deal with an angry teenager, to say nothing of an angry teenage girl.

It might be somewhat misogynistic of him, but he rather thought that a boy would be easier to deal with. Send him into the gym to punch something suitable, perhaps. Of course, Merlin was only guessing about that since he’d never before been forced to deal with pubescent humans in any real fashion, so he only had second- and thirdhand experiences to judge by.

So far, they were all proving somewhat lacking.

“I don’t suppose you’d like to talk about it?” he asked as mildly as possible.

“Nothing to talk about,” she grumbled, shoving open the large doors to the library. “Caleb is an idiot.”

“Ah. Boys,” Merlin said with a hint of distaste. “And that is where I end my part of this discussion, fascinating though it clearly would have been. I have no desire to know the details of your mating practices.”

She paused between steps, leading foot hovering just over the floor as she turned and gave Merlin a gimlet eye.

“Don’t,” she said firmly. “For one, just . . . yech. And two, even if that were true, you are the last person I would discuss it with.”

“Indeed,” Merlin deadpanned, “and for that I am, and shall remain, infinitely grateful. Believe me, I am sorry I asked. Please, continue stomping through the halls like a sodden gorilla.”

She narrowed her eyes at him. “What is a gorilla?”

Merlin sighed. “So much is lost on you, child. It’s a tragedy at times.”

Elan rolled her eyes, irritated but fully aware that meant he wasn’t going to enlighten her. She continued into the library, now mumbling about something else entirely. Merlin watched her as she made her way to a familiar table, where a book was waiting for her, as it had been ever since she’d first found it.

It was an old book.

Older than the library it sat in, which was nothing to scoff at. Old enough, in fact, as to defy any method of dating he was aware of, which, again, was nothing to take lightly. It was bound in leather, of some animal that he had no record of, and the pages were organic . . . yet did not deteriorate. On the cover, the lettering was gold . . . the only element of the book he could identify with certainty, in fact, and it read simply . . .

Ein Taki Amin Kine.

Merlin only knew what it meant because someone had once told him.

To Walk the Path of the Knight.

Elan settled in front of it, opening it to the page she had marked previously, and against all logic and sense, she began to read it as if it were not in a language that predated her ancestors of a thousand years earlier. If he did not know for certain that others had reacted exactly the same way with the book, Merlin would have thought Elan to be an infiltrator come to steal it. However, he knew better. The book was one of the oldest mysteries he knew of, and he knew of many such mysteries.

He was well aware that things existed in the universe that defied all understanding. He himself had often been accused of being one of them—an accusation that, in all honesty, Merlin couldn’t entirely refute. That might have been the reason why the ancient book irritated him so. For some reason, certain people could read it with no difficulties whatsoever . . . even certain people who had never been able to read anything up to that point.

It was something of a sore point that Merlin himself wasn’t one of those people.

The ancient entity stood back and silently watched as the girl-child casually flipped a page before continuing to read, completely engrossed in whatever it was she was seeing.

So infuriating.

*****

From the moment she’d first seen the book, Elan had felt drawn to it. She couldn’t explain that draw, let alone anything else about it, but she didn’t feel the need to either. The draw was something tangible but indescribable. She remembered not understanding the words on the cover then, but somehow the next time she’d seen it, they were clear as day.

The book was one of history and philosophy—two words that she had learned from the book itself—and instruction in seemingly any skill she could bring to mind. She had yet to find herself at a loss for something she sought once she turned to the book for more information. And though Elan didn’t really understand the pull it had on her, she couldn’t get the words she read in it out of her mind. The ideas within preyed on her thoughts when she tried to sleep, and she wondered at the stories it told her, uncertain if they were truth or some fanciful legend.

Either way, she’d seen enough in the real world to know that the stories were possible, and that was enough. So she focused on absorbing what the book had to teach her, making it part of herself, part of her soul.

She was going to be a knight. She would walk the path and destroy the demons no matter what it cost.

*****

Simone glanced up as Caleb slammed the door shut and stomped across the main room, leaving tracks of water and mud in his wake. She thought to reprimand him, but given that he had been out looking for Elanthielle, she decided that his mood likely wasn’t some childish fit of pique.

Likely not much more mature, though, she thought, amused as she wondered just how the boy had put his foot in it this time.

Caleb was a good lad, but she knew his faults better than most. Simone had raised him from almost before he could walk, his parents having been good friends who’d met their fates far too early. He had a good heart and a strong spirit, but his idea of tact left much to be desired. Given the right situation, that was not a bad thing in the least. However, dealing with a young woman of Elan’s age was seldom the right situation for a tactless comment.

So she left him to his sulking, though the boy would probably have objected vociferously to that description of his actions if she’d had the nerve to make it aloud. Instead, she just quietly cleaned the floor as she again marveled at the changes they’d all endured over the last short while.

The old city had been her home for her entire life, the last free human settlement she knew of. They’d lost contact with the others a long time before the destruction of the city. It had been the home of their little branch of humanity, but now it was, at best, an abandoned ruin.

At worst, the demons had infested it, and pity anyone who was left there.

This new city, this place that had sprung up out of nowhere over the last few months thanks to the builders provided by Merlin, was very different. It lacked the old feel of their home, with well-worn stones in the streets and odd angles and strange buildings where people had built what they could and made it fit.

Here the streets were flat and smooth, laid out in concentric circles around a freshwater lake. The homes were of stone or something similar, but it was smooth like she’d only seen in the temple before. They were solid, though, and warm and safe. After what had happened, she could accept the changes that felt strange in exchange for that.

After cleaning the floor, she crossed over to check on Caleb, who had retired back to his own space and was even then honing his blade with something of a manic intensity.

Definitely girl troubles. Simone laughed silently to herself before she decided that the boy had the right idea about one thing at least.

She retrieved her own blade, some water, and a honing stone. Iron blades were excellent for killing demons but not so for maintaining an edge.

As she worked with the practiced motions of experience, the home filled with the sound of stone on metal, and she continued to consider the changes that had come upon them.

Kaern said that Elan had the scent of prophecy, she remembered with a smirk. The gruff old bastard had used a different phrasing, of course. I wonder if he was right. Maybe she’s done what he saw coming . . . maybe she’s only getting started. I wish I knew. Maybe it would tell me more about what to expect.

Deep down, she didn’t think that whatever it was Kaern saw coming was just the destruction of the city and Elan and himself being the saviors of the survivors. Of course, for everything she’d seen in her life, Simone wasn’t so certain about destiny. If it were real, just what had people done to deserve the demons being inflicted on them?

The soft scrape of the stone on iron was all that was heard as she tried not to worry about what was to come.

The future would take care of the future. She would deal with the present as it came.

Chapter 2

As a demon of the Third Circle, there were few things that could threaten or truly even confuse Lady Ser’Goth, Queen of the Azran Pits. That was one of the reasons she had accepted the honor of leading the invasion front of the infinite expansion of the circles in the first place. On the fronts there were challenges, even losses at times, and that was exciting.

Lady Ser’Goth was almost human-looking, the shape most demons began as . . . and eventually returned to if they lived long enough to accumulate true power. Her demonic heritage was visible in the deep azure tint of her skin and the red glow that filtered out through her eyes, fingernails, and mouth if the surrounding lighting was dim enough. Actually, she glowed in other places as well, but mostly those were between herself and those few fortunate—or unfortunate—enough to share her private time.

She stood almost seven feet tall, muscled and curved in ways that had helped her entrap more than her share of victims during her younger days. Now, however, she rarely bothered. There were real challenges to address, and playthings were easily acquired, whether willing or not.

Today’s complication, however, was just annoying.

“Truly?” she asked, disgusted. “A great wave? The Lord Idiot lost his entire expeditionary force, along with almost all his newly inducted Ninth Circle minions . . . to a wave?”

Atop the once great building that now served as her seat of power, Ser’Goth sighed deeply and slumped in the polished golden throne that was hers alone. The room around her was one of very few in the entire city that still gleamed. The polished stone and rich metals were meticulously cared for by slaves, and woe to anyone of any ilk who chose to deface her property. The city beyond had been beautiful, once, and even now still inspired awe . . . but also fear and distress by those who would gaze upon it now.

Gleaming spires of angular design still reached for the skies, but darkness now clung to them, and deep inside the city, filth had set in a long time past. Ser’Goth would have, in many ways, preferred the millions of humans who once lived there return, compared to the countless demon filth of the weaker circles. Alas, even one such as she did not get everything she wished for.

That point was made clear by the groveling wreck of a demon kneeling in front of her, delivering tidings from the Lord Idiot, who had managed to lose the majority of his host to a wave.

“Did the humans at least die in it as well?” she asked, exasperated.

The groveling, bumbling demon messenger nodded obsequiously with such force as to knock himself out if he weren’t careful.

“Yes, my lady. The last free city in that region was wiped out before the wave struck. The city still stands. It was high on a cliff, but it has been abandoned.”

Ser’Goth sighed again, feeling much put upon. “Well, at least he accomplished that much. Very well, return to your master.”

“Of course, my lady,” the demon toady simpered. “But . . . that is, my lord asks for . . . reinforcing numbers.”

The glow of her eyes flared bright enough to be seen even in the relatively decent light of the throne room, her voice taking on a deep, guttural tone.

“He dares ask me for more forces? Begone, minion! Tell your master to rebuild his own forces,” she snarled. “He will have no more of mine.”

The demon practically fell over himself fleeing the room and her presence.

Ser’Goth sighed yet again, feeling like she was caught in a rut. She might have played with the messenger, except that the Lord Idiot had sent an Eighth Circle who had barely begun the change. She had her standards, and things with body parts falling off fell well below them.

The fool might have gotten some forces out of me if he’d sent someone worth my time, she thought, amused by the idea as she got to her feet and crossed the room to where a large map of the world was carved into a massive wooden table.

“So the northern part of the central continent is now clear,” she said, moving a marker to the appropriate area. “It took long enough.”

“Indeed, my lady. This story, though . . . it concerns me,” a disembodied voice said from the ether.

“Oh? Speak, Vizier.”

A robed and humanoid figure, the source of the voice, appeared from thin air across the table.

“A wave of the sort described, while possible, is rare,” he said.

“You think it enemy action?” She half smiled, scoffing at the thought. “I think you credit these humans a little too highly.”

“Human action? No,” the robed figure said. “They no longer have the capacity. We scoured the skies clean of their toys, and the sort of force required to raise up a wave like this would require the likes of which we could not easily have missed. But humans are not really the enemy, are they?”

The lady stilled for a moment, considering that.

“No,” she said, “they aren’t. However, we have not seen any sign of the enemy in a long time. If they have not yet abandoned this realm to us, then they are surely in the process of doing so.”

“That I believe to be true as well,” the vizier said simply. “This may have been a parting shot in our direction.”

She scoffed. “A weak shot, then. Eliminating the Lord Idiot’s forces merely saved me from likely having to do so myself eventually. No, Vizier, as unpalatable as it sometimes is, natural forces favor no side.”

“True,” the robed figure conceded. “I do not say for sure, just that perhaps we consider that while it may require multiple actions to prove a pattern, all patterns begin with but a single act.”

Ser’Goth nodded, albeit with reluctance. “A fair point, Vizier. For now, I believe this to be a natural occurrence. If we see other, similar actions, then we may consider them to be part of a pattern of action and respond accordingly. Likewise, if we find evidence of any other sort to indicate intervention.”

The robed figure nodded once and backed away into the ether from where he had come.

The silence that filled the room left Ser’Goth staring at the map of the world, the six great landmasses now almost filled with the markers of conquest.

It had been a long time coming to reach this point, with far more losses among her forces than projected. The humans here had been tenacious, ruthless, and utterly demonic in the defense of their world. The greatest tragedy, in her eyes, was that in slaughtering all their warriors, all that had been left to feed to the change were the dregs who’d managed to eke out a survival while better men and women died fighting. It was the curse of the change, it seemed, to be fed inferior material to turn into demonic fodder.

Some of the warriors she’d killed would have made superlative demons, given time.

A fair few had been rather impressive playthings before she’d broken them.

Ah well. The dregs would do. The change would cull the weakest and make the strong more so than they had ever imagined . . . in time.

All things in time.

*****

Life under the demon yoke was not survivable if you had pride.

That was why it was amazing that the man called Jolinr was still breathing. He was a tall, heavily muscled man, with the air of a brute. In his time he’d killed demons with his bare hands in retribution for their contempt, and he survived the retaliation only by the strength of his own body and the sometimes weary suffrage of the lady herself.

That, and the fact that his two friends, the only two people in the world he gave a damn for, spent so much of their time pulling him out of the situations his pride got him into.

The crack and sting of the whip had brought him to his knees as the black blood ichor of another demon felled by his hands dripped off his flesh. The red welt the whip raised shone brilliantly against the white of his skin and matched the red of his hair and beard quite well. He hissed at the sensation, but only as he waited for the next blow to land.

A scuffle and a thud behind him caused Jol to look back over his shoulder briefly and grin at the sight of Sindri standing above the demon overseer as his brother, Brokkr, huffed and started searching the now unconscious demon for anything of value.

Jol got to his feet and limped over, across the dirty alley, waiting for the two brothers to finish their work. He towered over the pair, who stood only four feet tall to his well-over-six, but size meant very little when it came to the brothers. They’d stood with him for as long as he could remember, and he by them.

“You’ll have to kill him,” Sindri said, looking up at him.

Jol nodded. “I know.”

The overseer had, perhaps ironically, seen too much. If left alive, it would cost all their lives, and likely a few more besides. Jol bent to retrieve his hammer from where he’d lost it after the first whip stroke had caught him across the face. It was half mired in muck, a mud of dirt and other things he would rather not consider that covered much of the ground within the city. The dark alley here had it in great supply, even coating the walls of buildings.

The short-handled tool was one of the few weapons a human could carry openly in a demon-controlled populace, it being a commonplace item used by laborers in a dozen different fields. In the hands of Jol and with a few small—almost unnoticeable—modifications, it became a weapon more than capable of dealing with the majority of demons one might run into.

When Brokkr had finished searching the demon, Jol motioned them both back as he hefted the laborer’s tool and dropped to one knee before swiftly bringing it down with a heavy blow that sent both a cracking and squishing sound into the air around them.

Job done, he got back to his feet and let the black blood drip from the hammer as he glanced around.

“Come, friends,” he said, “time to take our leave.”

The odd trio made themselves scarce, leaving two cooling bodies behind in the process.

Life in a demon-controlled city was rarely just, but it did tend to be simple.

The trio made it out of the darkened alleyway and into the throngs of people just a few dozen feet away. If any of them had seen what had happened, no one wanted to get involved. That was about as expected. Seeing too much was dangerous in the city.

Jol laughed softly. Look what it got that “poor” overseer.

“You get into too much trouble, Jol,” Sindri told him gruffly as the three walked.

“I know,” the big man said glumly, humor vanishing as he slumped a little at the chastisement. “I’m sorry you guys got involved.”

“One of these days we won’t be able to save you,” Sindri continued, “and don’t expect the bitch to do it every time either. You’re a toy in her eyes. Sooner or later she’ll get bored with you.”

“Aw, leave him be, brother,” Brokkr put in. “Jol knows; he just can’t help himself. He still has that human pride.”

Jol winced at that, knowing that there was no denying it. Humans weren’t permitted pride in anything they did; it was one of the cardinal rules. Pride was the unforgivable sin for a human living under demonic rule. If you wanted to live, humility was the only avenue to pursue. He, however, just couldn’t do it. He was more powerful than many demons. His muscles were such that he could crush so many of them. How was he not supposed to be proud of that?

Demons were so sure of themselves, but they couldn’t deal with a human as big and powerful as he was.

Well, forget them. He would live his life, however long or short it might be, the way he chose. No one else would tell him what to do.

Sindri sighed, looking up at him.

“You’re doing it again, aren’t you?” the squat little man said, grumbling. “Rationalizing your faults. Jol, it will lead you to a bad end—and us with you, at the rate we’re going.”

That was the only thing that made Jol pause and consider for a moment.

He didn’t want to cause the brothers any hurt. They’d done so much for him over the years, from when he was a scrawny boy who barely looked evenly with the two short beings who’d saved him from a capricious demon. He knew the brothers weren’t human, not entirely so at the very least, but they’d never discussed just what they were and they’d never needed to.

They were as close as family. That was good enough.

“Sorry, Sin,” Jol said softly, a tone that most would have sworn couldn’t come from his bulky, muscled frame.

“Don’t apologize; just be better, Jol,” Sindri said, exasperated. “That’s all I ever ask. Be better than you are, even just a little. Do that enough times, and before long you’ll be better than us all, and that’s a goal worth pursuing. Now come on, we have work to do back at the shop.”

Jol nodded, and the trio made their way into the crowd until even their odd profile vanished into the complexity of the capital.

*****

“Fascinating.”

The first of the Triad stared at the world contemplatively, considering what it had just learned.

“Fascinating? Unbelievable, I would say,” the third commented. “Practically impossible to believe. One girl-child could not throw every calculation of the oracles into complete disarray like this.”

“They were gifted with free will,” the first said simply.

“Free will is a fine and wonderful thing,” the third grumbled, “but it means little without power to back it. You can choose that the universe turn to cheese, but that does not mean you have the power to make such a thing happen.”

The first looked slowly over at the third, a bemused expression coating its entire being.

“Turn the universe to cheese?” it asked, amused. “Where did you pick up an expression like that?”

“Never mind. I was making a point about free will and power. Let us stick to the topic.”

The first chuckled but gestured agreeably. “You are right, of course. Choosing to do something is different than actually doing it . . . yet this one appears to have done both. She put her will against the universe, and the universe bent in submission . . . if only barely.”

“I still say it is impossible,” the third grumbled.

“Yet it has happened”—the second of the Triad spoke up for the first time in the conversation—“and now we need to consider the ramifications.”

“Too little, too late,” the third pronounced. “We have no forces here to support her, and what’s left of humanity isn’t worth speaking of. If you want to reward the girl, I’ll kill her now so she can ascend and be done with it all.”

“Lay your will on her, and I will see you ended,” the first growled. “Do not steal from her the chance to be what she might become.”

“What she might become? Other than one of the circles once they finish securing this world and plane?” The third scoffed. “The best she might do now is die nobly before we seal this realm from the other side, and you know it. If she lives until after we seal the plane . . . pity on her soul, because the demons will have none.”

“That is not your decision to make,” the second said firmly. “As much as I agree with you on the truths, we do not make their choices for them.”

“Then this has been a wasted exercise.”

The first of the Triad was focused intently on something else entirely.

“Perhaps . . . not . . .” he said with deliberate slowness. “Look to this one and tell me what you see.”

“Another child?” the third snorted. “Is this really what we’ve come to? Dependent on children to . . .”

The third of the Triad trailed off, focusing more on the subject as the second did as well.

“Impossible,” the second muttered in shock. “How could we not have known a potential existed?”

“Perhaps something changed,” the first suggested snidely. “Our little girl is having a larger effect than imaginable. I move we give him a push.”

The second of the Triad hummed, considering, before finally nodding. “I agree.”

The third grimaced but finally shrugged. “There is no sense in arguing, I suppose. I still think that this is . . . a long shot, shall we say?”

“That is oftentimes the best way to describe our function. Almost as though on a wing and prayer, no? Push the boy. I will speak with the girl myself.”

“Agreed.”

“Agreed.”

*****

Ser’Goth looked over the carved face of the world set into the large table, markers showing that the long assignment to this world was approaching an end.

So why do I have a feeling of uncertainty all of a sudden?

She had climbed to her position by not ignoring such feelings, so Ser’Goth gestured violently to draw in the attendants who were waiting in the wings.

“Yes, my lady?” the first to arrive simpered as the rest lined up.

“Contact the lords. All of them,” she ordered. “I want to know of anything different in their regions. New uprisings, heroes of the people, whatever they may have noticed. Something . . . something has changed.”

“My lady?”

“Go!” she roared, sending them scattering and leaving her alone a moment later.

Ser’Goth planted her azure hands on the table and glared down at the map. Ever since that damn wave had struck down an entire division of the local lord’s forces, she’d had an itch she couldn’t scratch. It wasn’t one of the nice itches either. It was one telling her that a storm was coming . . . and for once, she wasn’t the one bringing the lightning.

Chapter 3

Elan closed the book, stretching slightly as she looked around the silent library of Avalon.

“Merlin,” she called out.

“Yes, child?” Merlin’s voice came back instantly, his ethereal form appearing as he spoke.

“Don’t call me that,” she grumbled.

Merlin just silently waited for her to say what she had called him for.

Elan finally sighed and rolled her eyes. “How many of the other redoubts are you still in contact with?”

“Ah, a good question,” Merlin said, “and one with a somewhat complicated answer. Simply speaking, other than a handful that were entirely destroyed, I am in contact with most. However, that contact is often extremely limited, largely consisting of system checks that mostly fail at every level other than being able to tell me such. I presume that you are more interested in functional depots, nexuses, and so forth?”

“Yes,” Elan sighed.

Sometimes when she wanted a straight response from Merlin, it was like trying to knock sense into Caleb’s thick skull. If he knew what she meant, why not just tell her what he knew she wanted to know? Elan closed her eyes. That line of thinking hurt, just a little.

“In total, I am in contact with forty-three surviving installations of varying degrees of utility,” Merlin answered, turning away from her. “I have been waiting for you to ask. Follow me.”

Elan frowned but clambered to her feet and rushed after him when Merlin proceeded to leave without looking in her direction. His pace was slow but steady, so she caught up quickly as he led her through the smooth, white corridors of Avalon.

“Why were you waiting?” she asked. “If you thought I should know, why not tell me?”

“There are many times many things you should know, child,” he told her, ignoring her irate glare at his back. “If I were to tell you all of them, we would likely never again see the sun.”

“But people are dying out there!”

“People are always dying,” Merlin said simply. “Nothing you do can stop that from happening; do not delude yourself. What you mean is that people are dying at demonic hands, and you feel that you might save some few of them.”

“Fine!” she said, exasperated. “What’s wrong with that?”

“Nothing,” Merlin told her with a shrug. “It is an admirable sentiment, however hopeless in nature it is. If you had to choose, would you save one life now or many lives later?”

Elan started to blurt out her answer, then froze as she thought about what he’d said.

“Choose?” she asked quietly after a moment.

“Yes, choose. If you rush out now, you might save a life, some lives,” Merlin said casually. “One, ten, a hundred . . . However, if you prepare, if you plan, and if you are ready to act, then perhaps you save hundreds, thousands, or more. There is a time to act and a time to prepare for action. Learn to recognize the difference, child, and perhaps then I’ll call you by your name. Here we are.”

Elan, about to retort for his calling her a child again, froze and looked around the massive room they’d entered, awestruck by the immensity of it all.

“What is this place?”

“Central command,” Merlin answered before shrugging. “Or to be precise, one of many redundant backup facilities that could function as central command. The original command center was located in the capital city before the sickness brought the city down. This place, like that one, was a communications hub that allowed commanders to receive information and orders while being able to request reinforcements . . . when such was available.”

The dark room slowly lit up, section by section, somehow making it feel larger as Elan walked along behind Merlin in something of a daze.

They walked out on a catwalk that overlooked the room in all directions, a floating image of a ball in the center of a circular platform just ahead of them.

“What’s that?” Elan asked as they approached.

“That is the world on which we stand,” Merlin said simply, gesturing her forward as he stepped out of the way.

Elan hesitantly circled the floating ball, looking at brown and green and blue areas with incomprehension in her eyes. “I . . . I don’t understand.”

“If you claimed to, then you would be worse than a child,” Merlin snorted. “What you’re looking at is an image of the world as seen from approximately forty thousand miles away. We have lost almost all our remote imagers, but a few remain out beyond the reach of the demons’ abilities for now.”

There were so many things that he had just said that she was completely lost by, so Elan mostly decided to do what she commonly did with Merlin: largely ignore most of what he said and focus on what seemed more important, hoping that he would fill her in as needed on anything she overlooked. It was really the only way she could absorb even a fraction of what he kept throwing at her.

“This is . . . here?” she asked, trying to be sure.

“Yes.”

“So where are we then?”

Merlin reached forward and gestured with a flick of his hand, setting the ball spinning. Another gesture of his fingers, and it started growing, causing her to fall back a step as it took over most of the platform. It slowed to show a patch of blue that grew larger until a green dot was centered in it, and both continued to grow.

“This is the island you’ve named Atlantis,” Merlin said, not answering her question so much as redirecting it away from Avalon, “originally an unnamed research facility, long since reclaimed by the rising seas.”

Elan cocked her head. “The seas rose?”

“Are rising,” he corrected. “This world is slowly coming out of a deep cooling period that resulted from the massive exchanges between humans and demons at the end of the war. The ice and snow that had segregated water on the landmasses is melting and flowing out to the seas, and the water itself is heating and expanding. The seas are currently rising at a rate of approximately three-tenths of an inch per year and increasing.”

“Uh . . . how much is that?”

Merlin sighed, holding his thumb and forefinger up that far apart to show her.

“But that’s almost nothing!” Elan blurted.

Merlin laughed. “You think so, do you? Even a few years at that pace will change the face of the island you have made your own as storm surges push deeper inland and wipe out those plants that can’t adapt. On a larger scale, the shifting weight of the water as it moves into areas it previously hadn’t touched will actually move landmasses. A lesson, child: very tiny numbers spread over a large area will add up to very large numbers much faster than you could ever believe possible. That is not a concern for the moment, though it is one we will have to revisit in coming years if your new Atlantean community is to flourish here.”

“Okay?” Elan said hesitantly.

Merlin snapped his fingers, causing the ball to recede and begin spinning more slowly now as he pointed her to it.

“Right now, the lights you see are the answer to your previous question,” he told her. “Those are the facilities I still have contact with that remain operational enough to factor into any current considerations.”

“Um, okay?” Elan repeated herself, forcing her mind to focus on what little she understood. “So those lights are working redoubts?”

“Yes, they are what you refer to as redoubts.” Merlin sighed just slightly. “With functional computing power and full communications.”

“What about transport?”

“For that,” Merlin admitted, “we have somewhat less.”

He waved his hand again, and now the lights changed. Some to green, others to red, and a few to yellow.

“The green have full transport. All systems checks pass,” he explained. “Red sites are entirely unavailable. Yellow may or may not be functional. There are errors in the system checks, but nothing that specifically would cause failure. Even so, I would not visit those sites were I you. A malfunctioning transport system is not particularly pleasant to discover the hard way.”

Elan nodded absently, staring at the ball as she tried to get a sense of the scale of it all. She just couldn’t; it wasn’t something she could get her mind to accept.

“How . . . ?” She licked her lips, thinking. “How much . . . world is there?”

Merlin looked at her for a moment before finally admitting, “I do not know how to answer that in a way you could understand. You lack the basic understanding of the world, of large numbers needed to parse the information. On the scale of a human such as yourself, the world is . . . immense. In effect, at your current level of understanding, you could consider it unending. Give me a few years to educate you, however, and we could shrink it down to something far smaller.”

Elan frowned. “How do you shrink the world?”

“You do not shrink the world,” Merlin said simply. “You expand the mind observing it.”

“I don’t understand,” she said.

“You will.”

Elan wanted to complain about the double-talk he was using on her, but experience told her that the ethereal being wouldn’t be budged when he was like this. She sighed and tried to pull her mind back to the original line of thought she had been following.

“Food is limited on Atlantis,” she said. “The people, they can fish . . . and farm, but it isn’t enough, not really.”

Merlin looked at her for a moment, nodding slowly. “This is true. It will get better with time as they learn the best ways to leverage their environment. Humans are good at that. For now, however, you are correct.”

He then fell silent and waited to see where she was heading with that line of thought.

“Are there any places we could go for food, safe places?” she asked, looking at the map.

“Even Atlantis is not safe in the current climate,” Merlin cautioned her before conceding a little. “However, there are places with lower detected densities of demons. Properly equipped hunting groups could likely find food there.”

“Okay, good,” she said. “I’ll speak with Simone . . . I . . .”

She hesitated, looking at the ball as it floated there in front of her, trying to understand what it represented. She knew what he said it meant, but deep down Elan realized that it made no sense to her. How could she be on a ball, no matter how large? Was something holding it up? It seemed to be floating there in the room, but what did that say of the real world?

It was all too confusing.

Elan sighed, turning away.

“Thank you, Merlin,” she said. “I . . . I think I have to go now.”

“As you wish, child,” he said softly, without the bite he often had in his tone. He watched her walk away for a moment but then left her to find her own way, knowing that she could ask him at any time for aid. His focus shifted to the globe floating in front of him, and he set it spinning with a flick of his fingers, stopping it a second later and then causing it to expand abruptly.

He focused in on one of the green lights, off the coast of a large bulbous landmass, one of a thousand scattered islands. The system response from that location was green across the board for diagnostics, but everything else was deep red. The threat count in the area was unbelievable, and Merlin lost himself staring at the numbers.

“Lemuria,” he whispered, “we have fallen so far . . . and yet there seems no end to this black pit.”

The capital of a once proud and powerful people now served a similar function for the things that had brought them low . . . and all he—the mighty Merlin—could do was care for a few thousand survivors, barely above the most primitive hunter-gatherer societies at that.

“I failed,” he said, shaking his head as he closed his eyes. “I am so sorry.”

*****

Elan emerged from the Atlantean redoubt into bright sunshine and blinked away the light in her eyes with some surprise.

The storm had passed, and now the heat was again beating down from above with a cheerful intensity that felt alien to her. The heat of daylight had always been harsh for her when she was growing up. The cheery feel of the sun and sea air just felt wrong. Nice, but wrong.

She pushed aside those thoughts tiredly, wondering how long she had been at Avalon. It had to have been longer than it felt, but she tended to get lost when reading the book. She must have spent the night.

That would explain why I’m so tired, she thought as she made her way through the circular streets to where her own home was located.

This time no Caleb appeared to ambush her, for which she was grateful. As tired as she was, she suspected that if he made another slip as he had earlier, then she might say something she regretted later. Better that not come up. She would have to stop by Simone’s place later, anyway, and could speak with him then. She knew he hadn’t meant anything bad by it at least.

Letting herself into the small home, Elan secured the door and stripped off her belt and clothing in short order before stumbling into the bathing room for a quick wash before she collapsed into the small but comfortable bed to almost instantly fall into a deep, and not entirely natural, sleep.

*****

Simone managed to keep from laughing when she spotted her young charge cross-legged on the floor of his room with his eyes closed. He looked like he was trying so hard to focus that he might break something, but she found it rather amusingly cute that he was trying to replicate what he’d seen Elanthielle do so often before.

Rather pointless, of course, but cute.

She turned away and left the young man to it. Anything that made him feel better for the moment would lighten the atmosphere of the household immensely.

Behind her, unnoticed, Caleb suddenly slumped in place as his features went slack, and he began to tilt off to the right.

*****

Elan snapped upright, looking around with some confusion as she wondered how she’d gotten to her feet.

For that matter, how did she get outside?

Wait? Am I outside?

Something kept telling her everything was normal, but she shook her head and looked around intently. Something was wrong. She didn’t know what, but something was wrong.

“Impressive.”

She spun around, then stumbled back a step at a glowing image of pure night terror that floated there in front of her.

It was brilliant, iridescent white, with a vague outline that suggested a possibly human form . . . yet was utterly alien in ways she couldn’t put into thought, let alone words. Sharp angles, spinning wheels within wheels, triangles, and other shapes left her feeling slightly ill just trying to parse what she was seeing.

“Apologies,” it said to her, taking a step forward and shedding the unnatural shapes and composition to become a tall, dark-haired mannish person.

Almost a man, Elan decided, yet still something was off.

The figure smiled, a creepy expression that unsettled her, though she could tell it was meant to be reassuring.

“Again,” it said, though its mouth did not move, “impressive. You’re more advanced than expected, and perceptive. I am glad I chose to speak with you.”

“What are you?” Elan asked, her hand slipping down to where she wore her sidearm, her grip closing around it.

“Immaterial. You would not . . . could not comprehend what I am. You may call me Triad.”

“There’s just one of you,” she pointed out.

“No. There is not.”

Elan glanced around quickly but saw no one else, so she kept her hand where it was.

Her hand was then resting on her hip, rather than her sidearm, and she wondered why she had to think about leaving it where it was. Abruptly it came to her, and her eyes widened.

Triad smiled that creepy nonsmile again.

“And now you see. Good, that will make this easier.”

“This is the dreaming,” she started. “We’re in the overmind?”

“No, I am projecting into your own dreaming.”

She relaxed a little, though only a little. Kaern had been quite clear on how dangerous the overmind was—the place that was shared by all those who could access the dreaming—but she suspected that anyone who could project into her personal dreaming was not someone to underestimate either. Still, it explained why the environment seemed to want to lull her into accepting anything unusual. That was the nature of the dreaming, and only trained dreamers would notice the oddities that made it up.

“Why?” she asked, wondering if she could fight in the dreaming. It hadn’t come up so far, and she had little enough material to study on the subject.

“You interest me,” the figure, Triad, admitted. “You caught our attention. You are not as the others. You . . . are significant. Few people truly comprehend what that means, as I see you don’t. Do not be concerned. You will learn . . . in time.”

“That’s it?” she asked. “You’re interested in me? Okay, you saw me. ’Bye now.”

The figure laughed, a sound that was musical, like glass shards and harmonic vibrations. It sounded far nicer than his smile looked at least.

“I wanted to meet you before we left. There are decisions to make. We have made some; you will make the rest.”

“I have no clue what you’re talking about,” Elan said flatly.

“You will.”

“Hey, I get enough of this from Merlin. I don’t need more strange, confusing wordplay from a stranger-looking, more confusing . . . thing that’s pretending to be human!” she growled, now more angry than concerned.

Triad, in turn, seemed more amused than offended.

“Merlin. Yes, we know of him. He will serve you well in what is to come,” Triad said. “We have a question for you. A choice.”

“What?” She blinked. “What choice?”

“Peace. Happiness. Paradise. You may have them,” Triad said. “Come with us now, and you need never worry about another demon again.”

Elan frowned, shaking her head.

It sounded like everything she wanted, everything her mother and father had wanted for her.

There had to be a catch.

“What about everyone else?” she asked.

“What of them? They are not your concern—or ours.”

And there was the catch.

“Just leave them? What happens to them?” she demanded.

“They become demons . . . the ones that survive.”

Her mouth felt dry. “What about me? If I stay?”

“You become a demon too. If you live.”

Elan shuddered, wanting to collapse where she stood, as it suddenly felt like the world was pushing in on her from all sides. The idea of becoming . . . that . . .

It was her greatest fear, ever since she’d slain Venadrin. That she might in turn become him . . . what he was becoming.

“Why offer me a way out?” she asked, eyes locking on the uncomfortable form of Triad.

“You caught our attention.”

“That’s it? What about the rest? Everyone else?”

“They did not catch our attention.”

Elan dropped to her knees, a chill running down her back as she twisted her head just enough to see what she knew was behind her.

Venadrin’s body was there, minus the head, slumped against the tree he had died under. She could see black pustules moving along his body and wrenched her eyes away, fighting against her own dreaming as she focused on the Triad.

“Is there no chance? Can’t we win?” she pleaded, her tone sick.

Triad was silent for a time, observing her without moving.

Finally he gestured, and everything around them . . . changed.

“This was the future just a short time ago,” Triad answered.

Elan shuddered, eyes wide and refusing to close as she watched a sea of black swallow the floating ball she had observed in Avalon just a short time earlier. It didn’t stop there, however; it jumped from ball to ball . . . sun to sun . . . and spread across . . . everything.

Everything was black . . . rotten and rotting . . . lost and writhing. Just looking at it tore at her viscerally, like claws tearing at her soul.

Elan sobbed, throwing her arms up over her eyes. “Stop it! Stop!”

A moment passed, and she slowly dropped her arms to see that they were back where they had started. She was standing again, but the chill still clung to her, and she could feel and hear her heartbeat thudding in her chest as a vibration shook her to her core.

“This is the future . . . now.” Triad gestured again.

Elan tried to slam her eyes shut but couldn’t. The expected flood of black, glistening evil didn’t materialize, however. Instead, there was just a gray fog.

“I . . . I don’t understand,” she said, looking all around.

“Nor do we,” Triad admitted. “A mere few weeks ago, by your counting . . . no time at all by ours . . . the future was fixed. This realm lost. Now, time is in flux. This realm is in play again . . . but we have no forces here. Something changed, and we did not change it. The outcome is unknown, but we can see no path to victory.”

Elan took a breath. “You’re saying that it doesn’t have to end like that. That we could win?”

“We see no path to victory,” Triad warned severely.

“But you can’t see the future. That’s what you said!” Elan said. “Just because you can’t see a path doesn’t mean there isn’t one!”

Triad was silent for a brief moment.

“This is your choice then?”

Elan shivered. “I . . . I can’t let them win. There . . .” She swallowed, looking Triad right in the unnerving eyes. “There is no peace for me, not while the demons live.”

“Very well. As you say it, so let it be. We cannot provide much aid, but we will do what we can. There are still objects of power in this world. You have one, the book. You will find others. We will leave a guide for you . . . and you will have allies. One, we will push for you. He will be your most powerful ally, but your fate lies in your own hands.”

Triad looked at her evenly for a moment before continuing.

“What is coming is not something that can be faced by mortals. The darkness that is approaching cannot be faced by mortal minds . . . By all rights, you have no chance at victory,” Triad said intently. “Yet the future is in flux. Somehow, someway, there is a path to victory.”

“Then I will find it,” Elan swore.

Triad stared for a moment before nodding slowly. “Very well. I wish you good fortune in your quest, and the light at your back, Elanthielle of Atlantis. Remember what I said, however. Your fate lies in your own hands.”

Elan snapped upright, now in her bed with her heart in her throat as she looked around her small sleeping area for any sign of the thing that called himself Triad. Finally, after several panicked moments, she slumped back down and tried to calm herself as his last words echoed in her mind.

Your own hands.

*****

“Is it done?”

The second looked amused at the question, while the third merely seemed bored.

“Of course it is,” the second said. “The boy’s mind was simplistic. Amazing that he had the potential, assuming he did indeed have it to begin with.”

“We know he had it,” the third grumbled, irritated.

“No, we know he has it,” the second stressed. “Something, some force, has changed the universe. It may have touched him as well.”

The first of the three gestured impatiently. “You gave him the push?”

“We did,” the second confirmed. “You offered her the choice?”

“I did.”

“And?” the third asked, intently pushing its presence forward.

“She refused. She chose to fight.”

“Humans,” the third muttered. “The ones worth saving are so intent on suicide as to be impossible to save. The rest squander their gifts.”

“We’ve done what we can,” the second advised. “We must withdraw before we’re noticed. Its presence is growing stronger, despite the new flux in the future.”

The other two agreed quickly, and the Triad vanished from the earthly locality, leaving behind two small changes.

Chapter 4

“Lot of tension in the air these days,” Sindri grumbled as the three friends watched the rank and file of the lady’s army bustle around from one place to another in a constant attempt to look busy.

“Aye.” Brokkr spat out the dried weed he was chewing. “Something has Her Worshipfulness all fired up. She say anything while you were around her, Jol?”

The towering man just shrugged, not meeting the laughing eyes of his fellows as they looked to him for a response. “You know I don’t like to talk about . . . that.”

“I don’t care for stories of how you satisfy Her Worshipfulness or her peculiarities in . . . private, shall we say.” Brokkr chuckled. “I mean about this nonsense.”

Jol glanced out to where another squad of demons, these from Her Lady’s personal guard and visibly more disciplined than almost any other one was likely to see or meet, rushed by in a triple-time march.

He sighed. “Just something about a wave to the southlands.”

“A wave?” Brokkr frowned. “As in water, or something more fanciful?”

“No, nothing fancy. A massive ocean wave wiped out a lord’s division,” Jol said, gesturing uncertainly. “Seems it took out the last free human city in his area too, so I’m not sure why she’d care. Demons are easy to replace, or that’s how they act.”

“They act like that ’cause it’s true.” Sindri shrugged. “Oh, lower-circle demons are rare enough and powerful such that losing one would be a blow . . . but anything above the Fourth Circle? Fodder for the most part, no matter how competent or powerful.”

Brokkr nodded. “Still, losing a division would be a black mark on a lord; there’s no question of that. A wave? Huh, that would be an oddity, I suppose, but it does happen.”

“It does?” Jol asked. “Truly?”

“Oh, of a certainty,” Brokkr said. “Not normally in that region, but it’s far from insane or impossible. Did anyone say how large?”

“I thought they were exaggerating,” Jol said, “but they said hundreds of feet high, and swept inland for miles.”

The two stocky men whistled and exchanged glances.

“That’s a bit more unusual,” Brokkr admitted.

“Aye.” Sindri snorted with laughter. “That would require . . . a rock from the heavens, you suppose, Brokkr?”

Brokkr nodded. “That, or perhaps a good-size island collapsing across the way. It’s happened before, not often, but enough.”

“Last time I recall was during the height of the war, when the humans were getting desperate.” Sindri chuckled. “Those were fun times. More demons died in the last few years of open fighting than in centuries before that. Was a bad idea to corner the humans that way. They got creative when they knew they were going to die anyway.”

Jol couldn’t contain his curiosity. “Humans created such waves? How?”

“We told you how, Jol,” Brokkr said, rolling his eyes. “Dropped big honkin’ rocks from above the sky, or collapsed entire islands to push the water around. Killed damn near as many humans as demons, I expect, but at that point, death was probably a mercy for the poor buggers.”

Jol liked it best when the two brothers were willing to talk about the war, about the humans that used to be. He knew, had always known, deep down that humans had once stood tall. It was hard to see in the beaten wretches he saw daily, but he’d never been able to even fake the cringes that those poor bastards showed at the slightest provocation.

It was one of the things that had brought him to Her Lady’s attention and would likely have caused his rather painful death if she hadn’t decided she liked his visage and form.

“How do you lose a war if you can do such things?” he asked finally.

“Destruction on that level will not win you a war, Jol. Not when you’re sitting on the battlefield you want to unleash it upon, at least. There’s a reason the humans held it back as long as they could,” Sindri said. “Once they used that level of weaponry, it was already over.”

Brokkr sighed. “The ways of war are curious ones, lad. A true artist of war understands when to use certain tactics and when not to. Humans were artists of war, but they were outplayed by the circles. Anyone can be beat, Jol, remember that. It’s especially easy to take even a massively powerful foe if you can strike them before they even know they’re in danger.”

“A knife in the back, you mean,” Jol said flatly, displeased by the notion.

Sindri laughed. “Nothing so honorable as that. A poison needle works better.”

“Enough of this,” Brokkr said, getting to his feet. “We’ve work to do. Jol, keep your ears open when you’re around Her Ladyship. Might be important.”

Jol nodded. “I will.”

He glanced at his friends again, wondering not for the first time what they had done during the war. He didn’t have the courage, though, to ask.

He was afraid they might tell him.

*****

Ser’Goth looked over the reports that had been coming back, uncertain whether she should be happy or not that everything appeared normal.

She couldn’t manage to ditch the feeling that something was wrong, but now she was beginning to wonder if maybe she was just a little paranoid. Certainly she was more than a little paranoid. That mind-set was a survival trait in the circles, after all, and she was a survivor more than anything else.

Still, sometimes paranoia could set one chasing phantoms.

“Very well,” she said, pushing the reports aside and banishing her aides with a gesture. They all scattered, grateful to be escaping unscathed as she turned to the top field generals, who had gathered at her orders. “We proceed according to previous plans. The setback in the southern lands appears to be due to chance and, if anything, probably ended the local uprising with finality I doubt the Lord Idiot could have managed intentionally.”

She let the dark chuckles go for a while.

The lord who’d ruled that section of the world had been one of the last to gain a reasonable level of control of his area and had been notorious for having revolts fomenting under his nose with alarming regularity. Her one large regret concerning the losses from that wave was that the lord himself hadn’t been present at the point of landfall.

It would have reduced her headaches by a significant degree.

“The last of the so-called free cities will be fully under our control or eliminated within the next season,” she said firmly. “That means that the next step is to now begin preparing to pull more of our fellows, including the elder themselves, through from the other sides.”

The laughter stopped as she began speaking, and murmurs began as she finished.

She was unsurprised.

The elder, in many ways, transcended the circles. They were powers unto themselves, really only answerable to demons of the First Circle, and then not even all those terrifyingly powerful entities could entirely control or command an elder.

Once through, however, the final stage of taking the realm from the upper levels would be complete. A fully formed elder was all but invulnerable to any form of attack that remained on this world or beyond. It would take an effort from the armies above, at the very least, to seriously threaten the elder . . . and that was not really in their method of operation. Once the armies above gave up a realm, they abandoned it in its entirety so that it could be cut off from neighboring realms to slow the circles’ advance. The tactic was effective, but whether it was ultimately a winning one was another question entirely.

“Should we not wait until the last of the cities is fully under control?” a general asked, a hesitance in his voice. “While transitioning . . .”

He trailed off as she gazed at him, but Ser’Goth nodded and spoke.

“While transitioning, the elder will be vulnerable,” she conceded, “which is why we won’t initiate until the world has been fully secured. We can make preparations until that has come to pass, however.”

She glanced around, waiting for any other comments, but with none evident, Ser’Goth nodded with finality.

“Then return to your assigned areas and finish your appointed tasks,” she ordered. “The first stage is approaching completion, but until this is done, we cannot claim this realm as our own.”

The orders went out, and preparations would begin in every corner of the world.

The final stage of the war had come at last, and at the ley nexuses of the world, work would now accelerate to feverish rates. Obsidian runic arrays, imported from thousands of miles in some cases, would then be set into place with extreme care at the centers of power. More than a few of the workers involved, when they made slight errors, would certainly be killed instantly by the backlash of the power that surged through the earth into their twisted and tainted arrays.

Those accidents wouldn’t slow them by much, not with the vicious overseers pushing them ahead with threats and actual application of violence as needed. Ser’Goth certainly had no care for the lives lost. Every human, and the vast majority of the demons on the planet, were all entirely expendable under her directives.

Five points had been chosen long ago, equidistant about the round of the earth, the five points of a star that would eclipse the light of the universe when it blazed to life.

*****

Ser’Goth lounged idly in the rooms she claimed as her own, perched atop the highest tower of the centerpiece of the city itself. On all sides she could overlook the seas, with small islands making for a pleasing view in three directions and the large eastern continent to the north. For several centuries now, since the city had fallen to her forces, this had been her home, and she was well satisfied with it.

Soon, however, she would have to make a decision.

She could cut out a part of this world, or perhaps another world in this realm, as her own fiefdom. She’d earned that right a thousand times over, and none would challenge her on that. The few who could were unlikely to care, and the rest could go back to the pits for all she cared.

Alternatively, she could call up her forces and pick another realm to move on.

It would be a long-term effort; they always were. This realm had been a costly victory, despite meticulous planning from the beginning. Ser’Goth doubted they could have taken it had they not carefully cut the legs out from under the locals before even trying to land forces on the world.

Still, most realms were not so advanced.

There were advantages to either option, but she was leaning toward making a power play for control of this world, as it was perched on a universal nexus. The dimensional space branched out in near infinite directions from the place she currently sat. Her eyes could see the possibilities in ways few mortals could imagine. There was glory in the next conquest, but there was power in this one, if she could gather it unto herself before anyone could take it from her.

A door creaked just slightly, catching her attention. She merely tilted her head slightly, catching the familiar sound of breathing and heartbeat in a known pattern.

“Jol.” She smiled. “Welcome. How have you been of late?”

The big human stepped into the room, head held higher than was strictly intelligent for a human in the presence of any demons, let alone one of her rank, but Ser’Goth found it amusing in this one. He was, in many ways, the epitome of the human form.

Six and a half feet tall, only half a foot shorter than she, muscled spectacularly in perfect proportions. His beard and hair were wild, much like him, and very unlike her own hairless body. She found the pale skin exotic and his upstart attitude amusing, and so she hadn’t deigned to kill him as of yet. She had little doubt that day would be coming, of course. His attitude would drive him to do something even she could not ignore. Perhaps he would even attempt to kill her.

A smile played at her lips.

The very thought was delicious and could only be more so if he had a realistic chance of success or, at least, surviving the attempt.

Sadly, he did not. For now he seemed to realize that, which tempered his pride when dealing with her. As he walked around into her vision, her eyes flicked down to the black-stained hammer he wore on his belt. She wondered how many demons he’d managed to kill with that silly tool over the years. Ser’Goth was well aware what he did with it, as were a few of her underlings, but so long as he didn’t get caught publicly, she had no intention of ruining either his or her fun. The fact that he actually thought she didn’t know amused her even more.

“I asked you a question, Jol,” she chided him, her eyes lifting to find that he was looking her straight in the face.

Impudent scut, Ser’Goth thought with almost an affectionate air as she narrowed her eyes at him and flicked her gaze down to the floor before looking him dead in the eyes again.

The play of emotions on his face was almost as delicious as those that she could sense tearing him apart inside. He wanted so very much to strike her down, but this close there was no resisting her allure or her authority. With a final effort to resist vanquished, the big man dropped to his knees at the foot of her divan.

“I’ve been well, my lady,” he ground out through gritted teeth.

“Excellent.” She languidly reached forward and brushed along the line of his jaw, feeling the hairs rub against her skin as the heat of her touch dried out the sweat and oils on his skin in the passing.

Humans were so fragile, yet oddly so tenacious. She could break even this specimen in front of her in a thousand ways without half exerting herself, yet she had seen far weaker members of the species persist to fight, and kill, far superior opponents even after having been wounded unto death themselves.

So very different, yet so similar to the original form, Ser’Goth mused to herself as she casually petted the man’s head with the proprietary air of an owner with her most favored hound.

“It has been a long day, pet,” she said as she climbed from the divan and walked over to the bed. “Rub me down before we call it a night, will you?”

Jol nodded reluctantly. “Yes, my lady.”

“Of course you will,” Ser’Goth told him, assured of that. “Perhaps I will keep you around for a time after the elder arrive.”

She laid herself out on the bed with casual assurance and shrugged out of her few clothes, tossing them aside as she felt the weight of the man settle in beside her.

“Be . . . thorough, would you?” she taunted, laughing inside as she felt him shudder at her words. “I’m feeling energetic tonight.”

She felt him hesitate and briefly wondered if he would try something then. In the end, however, he just let out a shuddering breath and spoke.

“Yes, my lady.”

Ser’Goth smiled as she felt his cool hands on her back, settling in to enjoy herself on every level as the massage began. She would kill him another day. Soon probably.

*****

Later, Jol limped out of the lady’s rooms, cringing internally under the laughing eyes of the guards stationed there.

Laugh at me all you want, fools, he thought despite the pain he felt. You’re only here to provide her with someone to kill if she gets angry enough.

Each move he made was done gingerly, each step painful.

The lady’s body heat was significantly higher than that of a human, and getting close tended to leave mild burns. Those on his hands could be ignored. More sensitive areas, however, left him somewhat less than mobile for a while until the pain subsided.

Were it not for her allure, he expected that he would be useless to her except as fodder, so he supposed he should be glad of his inability to resist it. His weak will likely kept him alive, but it also left him cold and dead inside each time he departed her presence.

He had learned something this time, at least.

Perhaps the brothers would know what to make of it.

I wonder what these elder are? Jol mused as he limped down through the palace and out into the streets. The lady seems pleased that they’re coming. That doesn’t bode well, I would wager.

Her being pleased rarely did, not in his experience at least.

Chapter 5

Merlin watched his young charge, concern in his mind, as she once more pored over the book.

A less perceptive being would have mistaken her actions for just more of the same; she had done a similar thing in the past days, after all. Merlin, however, was not a less perceptive being. Everything about her read to him as something deep down inside having changed. She had the look of a person who had seen something that haunted her soul.

Considering the things the girl had already seen, Merlin was far from certain he wanted to know what it was that had evoked this change.

He was about to brave the lion’s den and try to learn it anyway when a niggling caused the Master of Avalon to twist his senses and glance in another direction briefly.

This might work better, he decided as he recognized the young man seeking his attention.

With a thought, Merlin activated the transport on Atlantis and brought Caleb to Avalon. The boy made his way—with direction, of course—to the library, where Merlin met him before allowing him access.

“Did something happen last night?” Merlin demanded sternly.

“How did you know about that?” Caleb asked, shocked.

“Elanthielle has been acting oddly since she arrived.” Merlin frowned. “What happened?”

“Elan knows? Wait, how?”

Merlin tilted his head, suddenly getting the feeling that they were speaking of different things entirely. “What happened?”

“I had a really strange dream,” Caleb confessed, looking confused. “I don’t know; it felt . . . different. I was hoping Elan might be able to help. What do you mean Elan has been acting differently?”

Merlin cast a glance toward the library proper. “She has always been a driven person . . .”

Caleb snorted. “Really? I hadn’t noticed.”

Merlin spared the boy a glare but otherwise didn’t bother to acknowledge the sarcasm.

“That drive has been multiplied a hundredfold at least. Something changed, but I cannot tell what.”

Caleb pulled back a little. “A hundred times more driven? Do I want to go in there?”

“Is what you want more important than what she needs?”

The boy winced. “Ouch. Fine. I’m going.”

Merlin stepped aside, allowing him to pass, and Caleb, now hesitantly, made his way into the library of Avalon.

*****

Caleb peered around the surprisingly bright and clean space with both hesitation and honest curiosity. There had been a library in the city, but it had been nothing like what he was seeing here. Simone had made certain that he could read, but it had never been his strongest interest. This space looked more like something out of a bard’s tale of the past than anything he could equate with real-world things.

That made sense, of course, since it was out of the past.

It took him a few moments to locate Elan, who had taken over a large table toward the center of the room. She was just visible from where he was standing, shelves of books blocking some of the space between them, but he could see that she looked . . . different.

The old coot was right. Something’s changed, Caleb thought as he started to make his way to the middle of the space.

Elan always had a driven feel about her, but now there was something manic in her as she hunched over the array of books around her. No one could read that many books at once, but she was bouncing from one to another with this sharp intent that made him reconsider whether approaching her was an intelligent thing to do.

Not that he was really known for intelligence.

Caleb steeled himself and forced himself forward, walking into the eye of the hurricane of books.

“Elan? Look, I’m sorry about the other day. I . . .” Caleb paused, noticing that she hadn’t even looked up at him. He doubted that she’d actually heard him. He sighed and leaned forward to touch her shoulder, then paused as he noticed the book she was reading. “Strengthening Blows with Spiritual Force? What are you reading?”

Elan twisted, eyes piercing him. “You can read it?”

“Sure, Simone taught me how to read, you know.” Caleb looked at her, a little amused and a little affronted.

“She didn’t teach you this,” Elan said. “Look closer.”

Mildly puzzled, Caleb did so. He read a few more words, not understanding what Elan was going on about, and then noticed something odd. Slowly he reached out and covered an entire word with his hand, excepting one letter. Then he moved his hand slowly to uncover the others.

“What in the demonic . . .?” he whispered in confusion as he realized that he didn’t recognize any of the letters, but the words were clear as day.

“You see it too,” Elan said softly as she took the book and pushed it to him. “Here, read it. I have to do something else.”

Forgetting what he had originally come for, Caleb took the seat Elan had vacated and flipped the book back to the first page.

To Walk the Path of the Knight.

*****

Elan strode across the library, nodding briefly to Merlin, who was glaring over her shoulder at Caleb for some reason. She didn’t care to ask why; she had something more important she was intent on.

“Merlin, show me the command place again,” she said, walking past him without looking back.

Merlin would have sighed, but frankly he was too irritated and curious to bother. With a put-upon air, he turned and followed after her as she headed for the command center of Avalon, wondering just what had gotten into the girl.

She beat him there, though only by a few steps. He was mildly surprised that she’d remembered her way after only one visit, but the girl had extremely good spatial skills. She’d adapted to the enhanced armor and weapon he’d provided her quite quickly, even given the augmented systems that were specifically intended to make their use as natural as possible.

Out on the overwalk, she made her way directly to the virtual image of the world, the lights still in place from her last visit.

“Something is happening,” she said as he walked up to her. “Something bad. We need to stop it.”

Merlin eyed her warily for a moment before speaking. “And you are aware of this . . . how?”

“I dreamed it,” she answered.

“My dear chil—”

“Don’t,” Elan snapped firmly. “Do not do that. I am not talking about a nightmare. I’m talking about a visitation in the dreaming.”

Merlin paused, considering her words.

The dreaming was known to the girl’s ancestors. It was quite real, he was aware. The exact nature of the dreaming had been largely in debate among spiritual and scientific “factions,” if one could call them that exactly. Some thought that all people were connected via a subatomic bond, which allowed for the mind to impose itself on others connected via the bond.

For the most part, the dreaming was more of a curiosity in his records than anything serious. While potentially potent by nearly all accounts, for the most part it was impossible to truly override someone else’s sense of self, and anything else was like trying to impose your will on the ocean: pointless and a waste of time.

Not every record he had agreed, however.

“Let us say this is correct,” Merlin allowed. “What do you propose?”

“I don’t know,” Elan snapped, glaring at him. “First we should find it, shouldn’t we?”

Merlin closed his eyes.

Children.

“Very well,” he said, opening his eyes and gesturing to the globe. It spun and grew until it came to show a spot familiar to him, one that made even him feel a well of emotions he would rather not. “If there is anything big coming, it would be centered here . . . in concept, if not in reality.”

“What’s this?” Elan asked, focusing on the light.

It was centered in a large island chain, with a large landmass to the north, but she didn’t see much to make it stand out from any other place.

“That is Lemuria. It is the capital of the old world, your people’s world,” Merlin answered simply, “and it is now the capital of the demonic empire that has taken control. All orders for action stem, ultimately, from Lemuria.”

Elan nodded slowly. “Then I’ll have to go there.”

That was a step beyond what Merlin was willing to humor.

“Are you out of what little you have to pass for a mind, child?” he spat. “The city was taken over before anything else. It has been in demon hands since the beginning. If there is anywhere on this world you should avoid, it is that place.”

“It doesn’t matter.” Elan shook her head. “I need to go there. The light shows that there is still a redoubt there. Is it . . . safe?”

“The center there is secure, yes, but that isn’t the concern. The city above it is teeming with the dimensional intruders. You would not last an hour,” he grumbled. “Someone with infiltration training might have a chance at returning with useful information, but you, child, are altogether too . . . direct.”

She gave him a gimlet eye, disliking his tone more than his words. “What is that supposed to mean?”

“It means, child, that this isn’t a problem you can tackle head-on. It requires subtlety,” Merlin spat, now thoroughly irritated. “A word I doubt you even know the meaning of.”

Elan was glaring at him but shifted her eyes as she looked reflexively up and to the right.

Merlin laughed openly at her. “You don’t know what the word means, do you?”

“Shut up.”

“My life has become a comedy of errors,” Merlin groaned, then eyed her sternly. “Subtlety means not attracting attention. Being careful. Not forcing a certain someone to collapse an entire island chain in order to save your stupid backside!”

“That was not my fault! You did that!” Elan protested. “You didn’t even tell me what you were doing!”

“If you had another way to get yourself and all those refugees clear without bringing every demon for a thousand miles down on their heads, you could have offered up the suggestion at the time,” Merlin countered acerbically. “The only accessible transport station had been sunken by rising ocean levels, so I eliminated two problems with one solution.”

“And you call that subtle,” Elan muttered.

“I did no such thing,” Merlin snapped. “I call that effective.”

“Fine, then I’ll go to this Lemuria place and be effective,” she riposted.

Merlin started to reply but paused, thinking about what had just been said a couple of times over in his mind.

Finally he slumped a little. “Somewhere, somehow, this conversation turned on me, and I’m not entirely sure how.”

Elan, however, was now ignoring him, as she had already turned and marched out of the command center, leaving Merlin staring after her in a rather high degree of irritation.

*****

Making her way to the armory, Elan was silent and focused internally as she tried to figure out why she was so determined to do what even she considered to be more than a little crazy.

Who . . . no, what¸ was that thing, and can I trust it? Them?

Elan winced, rubbing her face as she walked.

The dreaming was so . . . damned difficult to interpret sometimes. Even she was aware of that. If you slipped your focus, if you blinked just once, it could scoop you up and play with your brain until you believed anything and everything. Once you woke . . . well, reality would intercede again, but it made trusting anything you saw or heard in the dreaming problematic.

All Elan really knew was that she had a rising sense of urgency that she couldn’t shake. What the . . . thing, being, entity . . . whatever it was, it had shown her a future she couldn’t allow to pass.

Maybe Merlin was right. Maybe she was being reckless and foolish. But the alternative was to watch the whole world change, and that she would not do.

I’ll make them kill me first, Elan thought grimly as she entered the armory just as Merlin appeared ahead of her.

The projection of the old man looked tiredly at her. “This is insane.”

“I don’t care,” Elan said firmly.

“I could stop you,” Merlin told her. “I could lock down the transporter. By the circles, I could simply refuse to transport you. You’ve not learned enough to run the machinery yourself, and you know it.”

“You could,” Elan confirmed, her head swiveling to look at him with a steady gaze, “but will you?”

“I should,” he grumbled. “You’ve hardly convinced me that any of this is a good idea.”

Elan looked away, her face a mask of thought and confusion that even he couldn’t read, for all his experience. Merlin knew, however, when to remain silent . . . however much many previous commanders of his facility might have disagreed with that statement.

“I don’t know if it is,” Elan confessed after a long, drawn-out moment.

Merlin thought to make a statement then, but another glance at her expression silenced him once more. There was something in her eyes, a deep conflict that he couldn’t read specifically but could hardly miss. It was like looking into the eye of a storm. Depth and furious purpose lay there, being marshaled to power given form.

“I just . . .” Elan again hesitated, thinking her way through her words. “I don’t think we have time, Merlin. I think we’re running out of that very quickly.”

Merlin considered his response. “Time, young lady, is ephemeral and fleeting in ways a human can hardly understand, yet it is one of the bulwarks of consciousness. Below the wispy surface you experience, I can assure you, time never runs out.”

“It does for us,” Elan said softly. “If we do nothing, it does for us.”

Merlin was silent for a moment, never looking away from her as he considered the statement.

“For a long time,” he said stonily, “I have avoided looking into the future, child, because I am all too aware of that. We lost this war. There is no point in throwing yourself into the grinder for a lost cause. Stay on Atlantis, Elanthielle. With some luck you may live out your life and die before the demons come for you.”

She shook her head. “We haven’t lost. The . . . being, thing . . . whatever it was, it showed me that. It said something had changed, and now the future is uncertain.”

“I assure you,” Merlin said firmly, “no one knows the flow of time as I do. There is no future here for children of men, no future you want to contemplate, at least.”

Elan squared off with him, looking evenly into his visage. “If you believe that, then why save me? Why save us all?”

The projection shrugged with a certain apathy that Elan had never associated with him before.

“Why take a breath when death is inevitable eventually anyway?” he asked. “It is done because instincts demand it. I saved you because my instincts told me to, just as you fight because your instincts tell you to. Instincts are fundamentally stupid. They continue to act even when there is no hope, no chance. They even act in total defiance of reality, and when our reality changes, instincts are unable to change to match, and then we die at the very feet of the things that we evolved to keep ourselves alive. Reality has changed, and our instincts are no longer enough . . . but we cling to them anyway, because when our consciousness can offer no more hope, why shouldn’t we?”

Elan’s expression slowly shifted from slight confusion to a dark glower as he spoke, and she finally stamped her feet loudly enough to startle the projection.

“I told you,” she said, “something changed. There is hope. There is a path. We just have to find it.”

“Child,” Merlin said firmly, “I am an elemental intelligence, and time is my element. I have looked and seen the end of humanity and all other nondemonic forms in this universe. There are no paths. There is no hope.”

“When?”

Merlin was taken aback by the stubborn and belligerent tone as she glared at him, chin thrust out as she openly challenged his expertise.

“Excuse me?”

“When did you look?” Elan said again, no less challenging.

Merlin returned her glare and redoubled it. “I’ve existed beyond your ken, child, and looked into the paths of time since before your maternal line came into existence. Don’t think you can challenge—”

“When did you look last?” she cut him off, leaving him sputtering in apoplectic disbelief.

“Child, I stared into that black morass for generations,” he snarled. “I tried to find a path through, any path through. Even if we sacrificed ourselves, it made no difference. There is no path. We cannot do the impossible. No one can.”

“Look again,” Elan told him in a cold, steady tone.

“Child . . .”

“Look again.”

Merlin fell silent, glaring at her as she matched his glare and sent it right back. The silence stretched out for a long time between them before Merlin found himself in the unusual position of looking away first.

“I will look again, child, but when I find nothing,” he told her, “you must give up on this path. All you’ll do is sacrifice what little time you have left. Just . . . live your life like there is no tomorrow, child, because I’m telling you: there isn’t.”

Elan’s lips curled up crookedly. “Live like there’s no tomorrow? I can agree to that. Now look, if you really can.”

He shot her an annoyed glare but didn’t respond to the taunt as he began to refocus his capacities in a way he hadn’t done in so very long. Time was a finicky element. It didn’t flow, as most people believed; it wasn’t a river. It was an ocean, with tides that waxed and waned. The idea of future, past, and present was truly more of a human concept than anything else, but the very simplicity of the concept was useful, even if it wasn’t particularly accurate.

He sank himself into the vast ocean of elemental time, something the ancient entity hadn’t done in so long that he had begun to lose his conceptual understanding of time and had even started to think of it like a human might. That was obliterated in a moment as the great ocean of time swallowed him whole, and Merlin opened the equivalent of his eyes to look into the inky blackness he knew would be spreading from the future to the past.

In an instant, he noted that something was wrong.

No, not wrong . . . just not expected.

Merlin swept his focus, looking first into the past as humans understood it in order to establish his bearings. He could see the greatness of the human culture as it was birthed in the stars and spread from sun to sun, bringing the light of consciousness to the darkness. The invasion was there, that sickly black ink that started as a single splotch buried deep in the universe but spread quickly until, in the human present, it had swallowed the earth, the home of humanity, the beacon of the universe.

Steeling himself, Merlin swept his focus about, looking into the human conception of the future to where the blackness would swallow the stars . . . only it hadn’t. Or rather, if it had, he couldn’t see it.

In fact, he couldn’t see anything.

There was a deep gray mist obscuring the future, something he had never before encountered.

Merlin was not infallible; he knew that all too well. He was, however, a master of quantum interactions beyond the imagination of humanity. He could see the ultimate future of the universe, just as he could see the ultimate past, with ease . . . simply by calculating the results of quantum interactions. Smaller details were more difficult to distinguish, but it was possible if he could find the appropriate variables . . . but he could easily miss those details.

He could be blindsided as well, particularly if a threat came from outside the universal frame of reference, as the demons had. They hadn’t existed until they suddenly did, and their changes were wrought on the universe in total defiance of his calculations until he had found and assimilated the new variables.

However, he had never been blinded before.

Merlin didn’t even know what that could possibly mean.

One thing he did know was that the child was right. Something had changed, and while he wasn’t convinced that there was any true hope, Merlin had to admit that it seemed that it was no longer entirely impossible that some might exist.

He snapped back to the macroscopic reality of the universe, rising from the ocean of time to once more walk the surface as a human might, and looked at the girl who was still staring at him.

“You saw it, didn’t you?” she asked, a gleam in her eyes. “The mist?”

Merlin was shocked to his core by her question, by the insight it implied.

He’d never known a human to see time the way he could, but for her to describe the mist with confidence told him that she wasn’t making anything up.

“Yes,” he said firmly, already shifting gears as he tried to determine what their options were now. “I saw the mist. What I don’t understand is what it means. I’ve never seen anything like it. Something has thrown the entire universe into question. I do not think you understand just how impossible that is.”

“Does it really matter?” Elan asked him. “We have a chance now. That’s enough.”

“Does it really . . .?” Merlin sputtered. “Child, the only way for the ocean of time to change this drastically is via some sort of external influence. The closest thing I’ve ever encountered to this is the invasion of the demons themselves, and even their impact was nothing compared to this. Destiny no longer appears to exist, child. That speaks of power the likes of which no one should ever witness, let alone hold.”

“I don’t care,” Elan said simply. “All that matters is that we have a chance. I don’t care who gave it to us. I don’t care if it’s somehow another enemy. If it is, we’ll deal with them when we’re done with the demons.”

Merlin was taken aback by the simple confidence in her voice, a confidence he wanted to ascribe to youth and foolishness, but found himself starting to believe despite himself as she spoke.

“I’m going to Lemuria, Merlin,” she told him. “You can help, or you can try to stop me. Either way, I’m going, even if I have to start from Atlantis and swim. Make your decision.”

Merlin would have choked were he human. The idea of the child trying to swim to Lemuria from the island she’d named Atlantis was utterly ludicrous. The two were almost on opposite sides of the world or, rather, about one-third of the way around the circumference of the planet from one another. Forgetting even the thousands of miles of open ocean between them and the issue of whether she could even find the right direction to swim, there was an entire continent between them as well.

Even so, looking at her, he had the feeling that she would indeed try it.

He shook his head slowly, surrendering.

“I suppose if this is how you choose to spend your life, I may as well see to it that you get the best deal for the exchange possible,” he said finally, not quite willing to entertain the possibility that she might actually find a true path to a future that didn’t include the demons. Merlin nodded to the armory as it unlocked at a thought from him. “Your father must have been insane, because you certainly did not get this from your maternal line.”

Elan shot him a scowl but said nothing as she marched into the armory to retrieve what she could in the hopes of not merely avoiding death but somehow finding a path to the impossible future.

*****

I need to check with Simone. I’ve never heard of some of the techniques here, Caleb thought as he pored over the text of the book, somehow more engrossed in what he was reading than anything he had ever had the chance to read in the past.

He now understood Elan’s fascination with the book. It was almost impossible to close once you got started, and it felt like it was somehow connecting directly to his brain and just dumping information in. Words flowed as he read them and somehow managed to stick. Simone would have laughed at him if she were there to see him so deeply pulled into something that was trying to teach him.

It was filled with instructions on swordplay, tricks that he’d seen Simone and others use but hadn’t been able to entirely understand himself. When he’d asked, Simone had said that some tricks just came with experience.

Maybe he hadn’t been ready then, but now it all seemed to make sense as he read the book, and it just seemed to perfectly explain all the things that he’d struggled with in the past.

He turned the page and read the next header, mind still swirling with the information he’d just absorbed.

On Combat and Leading Men.

Caleb sat back, surprised by the abrupt switch in subjects, but then leaned over the book again to read more.

In leading those who fight, a commander will reveal more of himself to his enemy than any normal man ever will to his loved ones. Understand that this is inevitable and use it against your enemy. Know yourself, so that you may know how your enemy will see you.

Caleb thought about those words and suddenly understood something Simone had told him what felt like a lifetime ago. She’d been trying to explain how to read his opponent in a fight, but it hadn’t made sense to him. He could read what someone was thinking in the moment, but she had spoken about more than that. Now he understood.

A leader was like a swordsman, only his blade was an army, and how he used the blade would reveal things to the enemy. Knowing what he was revealing would allow him to lay traps and feints in the way he’d been trained in one-on-one fighting.

This book is incredible. It’s as if it were written just for me.

He immediately continued reading, sinking deeper into the book with every passing word.

Chapter 6

The feeling of oppressive doom that had suddenly struck her had faded but left the feeling of deep paranoia in its place. Ser’Goth was used to paranoia, of course; it was part and parcel of any position in the circles, let alone a position as high and importantly placed as her own. However, she wasn’t feeling like the threat was a claw in her back this time.

The threat felt, or had felt, like it came from outside.

On the surface that was absurd. The enemy had no forces in this dimension, she was certain of that. If they did and they were in any way willing to put them into the field, they would have been employed a long time past.

It was remotely possible that they had held some sort of force back against a final-hour attempt to arrest the circles’ endgame, but they had to know that any such move would be doomed to be little more than a delaying tactic at most.

No, the enemy wasn’t the sort to waste resources on a fool’s errand like that.

All reports agreed, including her own. The enemy had effectively abandoned the entire plane when the demon incursion finally pacified the earth.

That was, perhaps, a rather ridiculous notion on the surface, Ser’Goth thought with some amusement. Earth was one world among a near infinite number across the face of the plane, but it was strategically the only important one in most universes.

Earth was the echo of Eden, the center of universal cartography. It was rooted most deeply in the substrata of the universe and was the most potent bridge to cross dimensions. That made it a vital position for the circles and for the enemy. It was a choke point, where final victory was of paramount importance.

Who held the earth controlled the universe.

Some universes were easier to take than others, of course, but this one appeared by all measure to be one of the simpler ones. There was no real sign of any universal forces to combat, though there were bound to be a few that would resist effectively. Life on earth was almost invariably among the oldest forms of life in the universe in nearly every plane.

None of that helped her understand the brief feeling of doom that had permeated her senses just a short time ago.

It is as if the enemy returned to the field and then vanished again, she thought grimly as she pored over reports that had been sent to her in accordance with her demands. Reports strewn across the table that held the strategic maps that showed her entire domain.

The problem with that thought, however, was that it made little sense. There was no reason for the enemy to have sent its minions back to a world as securely conquered as this earth had become.

She growled, frustrated, and tossed the reports aside. They clattered to the wall and to the floor as she got up from the table and stalked back and forth across the war room, frustration gnawing at her.

Perhaps they retrieved one of their agents? A long-term plant, being drawn out at the last moment? she conjectured. It wouldn’t be a stupid thing to do. Gaining intelligence on the enemy’s endgame might help them in future battles, even if this one was lost.

Still, something wasn’t sitting right with her.

Ser’Goth walked out on the open balcony that looked out over the city from the highest spire of what had once been a human palace, her talons growing from her fingers as she gripped the rails and looked down on her domain.

No. Something wasn’t sitting right at all.

Across the face of the planet, at five key points around the circle of the earth, work was feverishly progressing as the summoning runes were positioned and arranged carefully into the circles of power that would draw on the earth itself to bring forth the final end for the planet as it had ever been. No world survived the passing of the elder unscarred, and this earth would be no exception.

Demons and human slaves worked at each site, assembling the massive stoneworks required to channel the power it would take to open portals large and strong enough for the elder.

The titanic circles of stone were slowly heaved into place, mangling anyone unfortunate enough to be caught underneath as the massive chunks of granite shifted. Demon or human, the dead were ignored and left to rot where they lay.

All five of the sites were in locations that the demons had taken extreme care to ensure were pacified of all human presence.

Though Ser’Goth had no way to know it, in four of the five, they were even right in their belief. In the fifth, they would have been right just a few short weeks earlier.

Her intuition was closer to the mark than she was willing to believe.

*****

Jol looked on from a dark corner of the grand hall that had become the location where lower-level demons congregated before setting out on whatever assignments they had. He was one of the few humans with access to the area, partly due to his amusing the lady and partly because he tended to last longer than most humans did in the presence of power. How much was due to his innate toughness and how much was due to fear of the lady was open for debate, but either way it meant that he was often required to deliver messages or provide services to the gathered filth that called themselves the rulers of the world.

Something was up; that much was obvious even to his normally oblivious eyes.

It must have to do with the elder.

The twins had filled him in on the meaning of that title, and a shiver ran down his back at the thought of beings so powerful that they were practically independent of the circles. The circles didn’t tolerate independence. If you didn’t bow, then you either died or were hammered upon until you did.

For the circles to largely have arranged a détente with the elder implied things he didn’t want to think too hard on.

The obvious nervousness he could see in the demons spoke volumes to Jol. He read fear in their eyes, those of them who had eyes, and that was something he’d never seen in a hale demon before . . . and rarely enough in a dying demon for that matter. When he killed them, most looked on him with hatred, not fear.

The twins had told him, that same fear glinting in their eyes, about the elder, but even their information was cycled through a dozen voices before it got to him, and Jol found himself doubting it all. Oh, certainly they had to be powerful. The demons respected nothing but the power to strike them down and only slightly that at times. However, the level of power they were whispering about seemed . . . impossible.

He hoped it was, at least, because if not . . .

He had limits, even knew what they were for the most part. He just chose to ignore them, push past them because of his stubborn pride. Against creatures such as everyone whispered the elder to be . . . well, he would be dead. He would not bend—his pride wouldn’t allow him—and he could not survive such as that. So Jol was calmly preparing himself for death. If the elder were as whispered, then he would make one last stand in his pride before he was killed.

He would kill Ser’Goth, and it would be his last act.

So be it.

*****

Infernal girl-child, Merlin grumbled to himself as he watched Elan prepare herself for the self-imposed idiocy she was intent on perpetrating.

He had linked to the newly named Atlantis redoubt, primarily to monitor the newly established colony, but the scanners on the old scientific station picked up something that distracted him from the frustrating child he was dealing with.

Odd. Why are there demons out this far in the ocean? he wondered, now focusing more of his attention there.

Atlantis was a solitary island some distance off from a small chain, interesting in itself only due to the existence of what was known as a fairly powerful ley line that passed directly underneath. The entire chain had that in common, and several of the islands had small nexuses that had been studied deeply just before the invasion but had not resulted in much useful research by the time all hells broke loose.

The island he was now observing through the limited scanners at his disposal was the prize of the archipelago, the location of one of the greatest nexuses ever located and where the original research station had been established. Unfortunately, that facility had been buried in a volcanic eruption a long time past, or Merlin would have better eyes on the site.

As it was, he could only barely tell that there were, in fact, demons there.

“Merlin . . . Merlin!”

The EI mentally blinked and shifted his focus back to the irate child growling at him.

“What is it?” he asked dryly, eying the girl standing there in augmenting armor with a sidearm secured to her hip. “And try not to lose that one, if you would. We have only so many available.”

Elan flushed, irritated but unwilling to delve into that particular issue just then. “I’ve never seen you distracted. What happened?”

“I am not sure,” Merlin said thoughtfully. “I’ve detected demons near Atlantis.”

“What!” Elan stiffened in place. “We have to—”

“Do nothing,” he snapped, piercing her with a glare. “They’re not close enough to happen on the colony and do not appear to be doing anything of note. If not for the colony, I would have ignored them entirely, but given the proximity, I will, of course, investigate.”

“How?” Elan asked, confused.

“Remote probes,” Merlin answered. “The station has a few old models that were designed to observe animal life without startling them. As stealth goes, they’re not overly impressive, but demons don’t use advanced scanners either. The probes should be sufficient to the task, much better than if you were to go. If you were caught looking into it yourself, the demons might search for more people, and that is not an acceptable outcome.”

Elan sighed but nodded. “You’re right. Watch them closely.”

Merlin inclined his head slightly, gesturing with his right hand. “I will, I assure you. Now, I suppose you’re fixated on visiting Lemuria?”

She nodded firmly. “I am.”

“The local command center is intact,” Merlin answered, “but it is buried deep under the city, and not all systems are linked back to me. I cannot say for sure what you’ll find, but I should be able to guide you when you arrive.”

“Thank you,” Elan said, taking a deep breath as she visibly steadied herself. “I . . .”

Merlin eyed her as she hesitated, then got herself under control. He wished only that he could get her a more proper training before all this. Their time had been limited, and while she had come a long way in using the technical prowess of her ancestors, there was so much left to learn.

She would be an impressive operative if only she had the time to learn what she needs to know.

“The transport system is charged,” he said. “Will you explain to the young man, or shall I?”

“Caleb?” Elan asked, glancing back the way toward the library. She looked tempted briefly, then shrugged and shook her head. “You do it.”

Merlin smirked slightly, amused by her predictable cowardice in matters he considered trivial. Unafraid of demons or death, only frightened truly of failure . . . failure and the opinion of a young man who obviously saw her in much the same light.

It was . . . amusing.

“Very well,” he acceded. “Then the transport will be ready when you are.”

“I’ll go now.”

Elan barely hesitated at the door as she left, glancing briefly over her shoulder before shifting to look ahead again as she strode down the hallway. Merlin watched her go, his memories overlaying her with a thousand similar young men and women who’d marched off to the final end down that very hall.

It was his curse, sometimes, to see them go and know they wouldn’t be returning. Perhaps not this time, but eventually they all left and didn’t come back. He could see them all gathered as one group as he looked through time.

There had been a point in space-time when he could see the future and the past with equal clarity, but that had been before the demons had arrived and thrown entirely new variables into the universe. Since then he had been playing a desperate game of catch-up as he tried to analyze and determine the effects of their quanta on the universe as a whole.

By the time he had successfully adapted to the demons’ quanta, it had been too late. Nothing but death lay in the future. Death or worse.

Merlin extended his senses back into space-time, as he had earlier, and tried once more to see the future.

The past was there, as he knew it would be. Every soul he had ever known was speaking to him, and he was answering back. The present, as humans registered such things, was just as depressing as it had been for some time. Only Elan and Caleb now spoke to him, but they were both there.

The future, however, did not exist.

Merlin had been a master of time and space for as long as his memories went back, which was a long time indeed, and he had never encountered such as he was now observing. The future was so completely in flux as to be unreadable, despite his innate knowledge of the quanta about him.

That shouldn’t have been remotely possible.

Someone has introduced external variables. It was the only explanation that made sense. Nothing else could so totally throw everything into chaos as it had. The universe was a contained system; it was not possible for something from within to have this sort of impact.

Merlin just wished that he knew if this was a good thing or just another trap waiting to snap shut on what was left of the human race.

Time, he thought with some amusement, will tell the tale.

He only barely noted the flash of power as Elan departed Avalon.

For now, let us determine what those demons are up to out this far from their usual haunts.

*****

“Construction continues apace, my lady,” the general said as he presented the report, nervously shifting as Ser’Goth looked at him through slitted eyes.

“So I see,” she said coldly. “Tell me, Lord General, what is not going well?”

The general paused, then stammered, “I . . . what? I don’t understand.”

“You heard me,” Ser’Goth growled. “Every report tells me how well things are going, how perfectly it is all being managed. Nothing is perfect, Lord General. What setbacks have we encountered?”

The general stared at her blankly, then looked around at the others in the room, who held similar expressions.

“Lovely,” Ser’Goth grumbled. “So you’re not merely providing me with a shiny lie to make me happy. It seems that your own underlings are doing the same to you.” She glowered at them. “Go and find out just what you haven’t been told. Do not come back to me until you have. Go!”

They went.

Ser’Goth could feel the frustrations bubbling up deep inside her, but there were no targets to vent on that would leave her with any sense of satisfaction. Her generals were fools, yes, but they were necessary fools and too valuable to toy with overly. Slaves, even ones like her lovely Jol, were barely a morsel for one such as herself.

So she was left frustrated and wanting, with no serviceable targets to turn that energy on.

Occasionally, very occasionally, the life of a demoness left something to be desired.

*****

While stores were severely depleted after centuries of war, Merlin was not entirely without resources. Whether due to losses, simple overlook, or some other reason, he still had a small but significant supply of war materials spread across the planet. The ancient EI expected that there were many more stores tucked away in sections of the world he had no access to, but for the moment what he had on hand would do just fine.

No one on Atlantis noticed the sliver of motion flicker from the redoubt as he launched the old scientific instruments and directed them toward the main island chain.

They flitted quickly over the blue-green waters, automatically registering and recording all the life below the ocean as they flew past. Merlin noted, with an odd corner of his attention, that local fish populations had rebounded nicely from the height of human civilization. The large sharks that patrolled the area, approaching nearly a hundred feet in length, caused him to make a note to inform the Atlanteans that perhaps venturing into the open water might not be in their best interest.

At least not until we can determine their hunting strategies, Merlin noted as he identified the species as one thought almost extinct before the invasion. I suppose the demons are good for something, at least in the short term. I wonder what the ultimate fate of such species will be under their rule.

The EI expected it wouldn’t be good, but then, that might just be his personal bias.

Ultimately it didn’t really matter much, he supposed as he directed the probes in toward the main island of the chain.

Now what in the name of humanity are they up to? Merlin puzzled as he examined the small horde of demon and human slaves in the process of erecting massive stone blocks in a circular pattern.

This will take more observation.

*****

Caleb closed the book and looked around, a little confused.

Elan said she was coming back, didn’t she?

He got up and checked around the library, but there was no sign of her or of Merlin, which also struck him as a little unusual.

Oh well. He shrugged before calling out, “Merlin?”

Instead of the immediate response he had half expected, there was a long pause, long enough that he was considering calling out again before the image of the old man appeared near him.

“Hmmm?” Merlin said, glancing at him. “You’re still here?”

Caleb shot a glare at the old man that was easily ignored. “Where’s Elan?”

“She left,” Merlin answered. “And I’m a little busy, so if you’d like to return to the island, you know the way to the transport.”

Merlin shifted his focus away, and Caleb had to blurt out rapidly before he left, “Wait!” He threw up his hands. “What do you mean she left?”

The image of the old man looked evenly at him for a moment. “I believe the concept is as simple as it can possibly be made. She. Left. Which word is giving you trouble?”

Caleb glared at him again, but once more it had little to no effect.

“Where. Did. She. Go?” he ground out through clenched teeth.

“Lemuria.”

Caleb blinked, having no response for that.

“Huh?”

Okay, he had a response, just not a good one.

“While you were reading, she went and did the insane thing I warned you about and asked your help to stop,” Merlin said acerbically as he glanced over the book with disdain. “I do hope you learned something worthwhile from it.”

With those words, Merlin turned away and vanished into the ether as Caleb stared after him in stunned silence.

Chapter 7

It was dark when she arrived.

No, not merely dark. There was no light at all, and for a moment Elan stood alone in the abyss with all sense of direction other than down taken from her. It only lasted a few short seconds before her armor began filling in the details of the space around her.

It was a typical transport room, or so she presumed from what she could see in the odd monochromatic rendition of the area around her supplied by the armor.

“Power is down,” Merlin’s voice told her. “You’ll have to locate the emergency reactor and bring it back online.”

“That sounds incredibly complicated,” Elan said. And incredibly dangerous.

She knew a little, now, about reactors. Namely, they were something Merlin didn’t trust her anywhere near due to the potential for disaster.

“The emergency system is thorium-based,” Merlin answered. “Low power but stable. It won’t return full functionality to the center, but there is no chance of you blowing yourself into lunar orbit with it either. I’ll load information and instructions to your display. Just do what it tells you.”

Elan sighed, a little annoyed by Merlin’s tone, but as the instructions appeared on her display, she started to walk as they directed.

The emergency systems were not far from the transport center, thankfully, so she found the reactor easily enough. Turning it back on was a simple matter of throwing a mechanical switch and waiting for the system to slowly wind back up to full production. Lights appeared on the reactor itself first, and she peered at them as they started to blink off the system check.

Green lights were good. She’d come to understand that much with some ease. The absence of red was even better, though there was a single yellow that caught her eye.

“Merlin?” she queried as she walked over to it.

“Not an issue,” Merlin said. “It’s merely informing that the fuel store is below optimal. We might have to worry about it if we wanted more than a decade of power, but if we’re still around in a decade, I believe we’ll be able to scrape up more thorium to feed the system.”

“If you say so.” Elan shook her head. “What next?”

“Command center,” Merlin answered. “No matter what is decided here, we need better information than we have. You’ll need to physically reactivate the intercepts system, as well as all the surveillance devices that have survived.”

Elan nodded and started walking as soon as new directions appeared on her display.

*****

The command center was a large spherical room, the controls set in the very center at the end of a long spire bridge. Elan was glad she wasn’t afraid of heights, though much of the effect was dulled by the monochromatic nature of her suit’s enhanced vision.

The bodies still sitting at their stations threw her for a moment when she saw them, but if the death she’d seen up close and personal hadn’t broken her, a few dried and withered corpses weren’t going to cause her to freak out.

“Duty unto the last breath.”

“What?” she asked, looking up slightly as the disembodied voice of the old EI caught her slightly by surprise.

“Merely commenting on the souls still residing here,” Merlin answered. “You’ll need to move the one in the center station, I’m afraid.”

Elan grimaced but moved to do the job. She tried to be gentle, she really did, but the lightest touch caused skin to break off and even disintegrate in places. By the time she’d managed to get the body pushed to the floor of the circular area, it was missing large patches of skin, bone showing clear through, and she was certain she’d managed to dislocate, if not entirely amputate, at least two limbs.

Still, the grisly work was done in a few moments, and she carefully brushed down the seat before slipping into it herself.

“What next?”

“Activation sequence. Touch the spaces as I highlight them on your display.”

Elan nodded slowly, eyes widening as the controls around her were illuminated unnaturally. She realized quickly that, without her armor, they would still be dark, and Merlin was merely showing her the way through the pictures laid over her eyes. She reached out to gently tap the highlighted sections in turn. When she finished the sequence, a low hum sounded around her, and the first of many lights flickered into existence.

They were stars in the distant sky at first, though there was no sky to be seen. Then, as more light became available, the illumination cast by them began to give more form to the room than her armor’s night vision was capable of.

The spherical chamber was massive. Her armor informed her simply that the far wall was no less than five hundred feet away, and that meant another five hundred behind her to the wall there. She hung five hundred feet over the bowl of the floor and just as far beneath the dome of the ceiling, and all that scale came into focus as the lights of the command and control center lit everything up.

“System checks are now responding beyond basic emergency levels,” Merlin said calmly. “Lemuria command and control is online. Activating security monitors. Redirecting feeds to you.”

Elan’s breath caught as images began to appear around her, projected on or perhaps originating from the walls of the sphere. Demons and people, all moving about the center of what looked like a dirty yet oddly impressive city, so much larger than she’d ever imagined, even after seeing the humans’ city with Caleb.

It’s . . . impossible. It’s too big, Elan thought, stunned as she looked from image to image, trying to get a sense of scale, but it was too hard. “Is . . . is that Lemuria?”

“The fallen city, yes,” Merlin responded, his tone dark. “The last of the great cities to fall to the demons, as you call them . . . perhaps the only one they bothered to take intact, almost as though they wanted to rub in just how far we’d fallen.”

It was clear, as she looked around, that beneath the grime and the decay, the city had been majestic . . . once. Now, though, it struck her more as an abomination. Everywhere she looked there were demons walking in the open, humans cringing and cowering under the yoke of their masters . . . or worse, clear signs of those who’d already surrendered to the demons’ influence and were beginning the change.

“Security systems are less than fifty percent operative,” Merlin said, breaking into her musing. “Impressive . . . and surprising. I would have expected nearly that much from normal maintenance losses alone. The demons couldn’t have bothered even trying to deactivate them. Arrogance.”

Elan wasn’t listening too closely. Her attention was focused on the images as she shifted from one to another. Everywhere she looked there was violence and pain, not merely demon on human—though there was enough of that to be found—but also demon on demon. More of the latter, she realized as she watched a demon being ripped apart for some slight she hadn’t seen.

She grimaced, her lips curling up, and tried very hard not to feel anything for the beasts. She didn’t want to feel sorry for them, didn’t want to see them as beings with feelings.

She didn’t want to see Kaern’s face in their misshapen forms.

“It’s a den of filth,” she said finally.

“It is indeed,” Merlin told her. “However, it is a very large den of filth, and that is the concern. Worse, what we’re seeing here are the weakest and least dangerous ones of the lot. There are much worse above your head than we can see, Elan.”

She looked up reflexively, remembering that the images represented the city above.

“I understand,” Elan said, pushing the chair back on an invisible slider and taking a seat on the floor, folding her legs under her as she continued to look out at the images.

“What are you doing?” Merlin asked.

“Observing,” Elan said. “I was unable to do this from Avalon, so I came here. This is where I need to be . . . for now.”

Merlin fell silent, allowing her to begin breathing deeply to allow her mind to flow as she’d read in the book. There was too much to do and not enough time to do it in, but she had no choice. Clearing her mind, Elan slipped deeper into her own consciousness and then, finally, into the dreaming once more.

Uncertain what to do, Merlin receded from the center, leaving his charge . . . and erstwhile commander . . . dreaming with open eyes as horrors played out all around her.

*****

Merlin shifted his primary focus back to Avalon and immediately accessed the probe information from the local islands he had detected demons on.

What are they up to? Merlin wondered as he watched a construction in progress.

They were building, in stone monolithic slabs, giant circles that not even his probes could entirely see. It meant very little to Merlin, but he was well aware that there were many things about the demons that neither he, nor those who came before, had ever entirely figured out.

Does this have to do with their magics? he asked himself as he watched.

The probes he was forced to use had many more limitations than he would prefer. Unlike military devices, they had never been designed either for stealth or for in-depth intelligence acquisition. The sort of information that a naturalist would need just didn’t always mesh with the sort of information a military strategist would want. Still, he would make do with what he had.

Merlin set the probes to automatically watch over the island chain and report back whenever the demons did anything unusual. Unfortunately, everything they were doing was unusual. He had no doubt he was about to be swamped with data, and Merlin was quite certain he had no parameters yet to allow him to filter it down to anything useful.

It was in the middle of doing this that he felt a slight tug on his attention and shifted focus just slightly to find that, to his surprise, Caleb had never left the island. With the probes watching the demons, Merlin shifted his full focus to the library once more.

*****

“Merlin!”

Caleb had grown beyond frustrated. He had been calling for the aggravating entity for some time with no response. He needed to find out what had happened to Elan, and Merlin was the only one who could tell him. However, the arrogant and frustrating entity was nowhere to be found.

“Abyss damn you, Merlin! Where are you, and what happened to Elan?”

When no response came, Caleb slammed his fists down on the table in front of him in frustration, succeeding only in bruising his hands. While he was cursing under his breath and rubbing at his tender flesh, Merlin shimmered into existence unnoticed behind him.

“You rang?” Merlin asked with a desert-dry tone, startling Caleb nearly a foot into the air. The elemental intelligence watched with an almost bored curiosity as Caleb caught himself only an instant away from twisting an ankle or worse. “Jumpy sort, aren’t you?”

It took Caleb a few moments to get his heart rate and breath back from the start he’d just received, during which time he was glaring openly and angrily at Merlin. The intelligence merely stared back, entirely unimpressed.

“Where did Elan go?” Caleb demanded when he had reacquired full command of his faculties.

Merlin merely raised an eyebrow, staring him down for a moment. “I believe I already told you.”

“Lemuria. Where is that?” Caleb demanded.

Merlin scoffed softly. “And if I told you, would it mean anything? Would you prefer coordinates or directions?”

Caleb stared, confused, not understanding any of what Merlin had just said.

“Um,” he started uncertainly, “directions?”

“Certainly.” Merlin smiled at him, pointing off in the distance. “Swim that direction for eight hundred miles, cross six hundred miles of land—most of it desert—and then swim another two thousand miles. That will see you right there.”

Caleb stared, jaw hanging open as he silently looked between Merlin and the direction the entity was pointing. It took him longer than he wanted to admit to remember the transport system, but when that caught up with him, he reddened angrily and glared at Merlin once more.

Merlin was still entirely unimpressed.

“You sent her that far? Why?” Caleb demanded.

“She insisted,” Merlin told him. “She wants to kill demons.”

The bloodred tone of Caleb’s face vanished in an instant, his skin turning a pallid white as the blood drained away.

“There are demons there?” Caleb whispered fearfully.

“There are demons everywhere, boy.” Merlin laughed outright. “However, Lemuria is the center of demonic activity on this entire world. There are more demons there than anywhere else.”

“And you let her go there?”

Merlin gazed evenly at the boy—young man really, just as Elan was a young woman—and gestured casually. “I am not her parent nor her keeper. I’m not even an adult nor an authority. My purpose is not to tell you what you can or cannot do. I am here to help you do what you choose to do—nothing more, nothing less. If she wants to take the fight into the teeth of the enemy, I will advise, I will offer suggestions, but ultimately that choice is hers and hers alone.”

“This is insane,” Caleb mumbled, stepping unsteadily away from the table and shaking his head. “How could you let Elan, of all people, run off to do something like that? She’ll get killed!”

“You all die.” Merlin shrugged.

“Not at our age!”

Merlin actually smiled at that, amused deeply. “Youth. You think yourselves immortal, but I’ll tell you now that in the scope of the universe, it makes no difference whether you die at eight, eighty, or eight hundred. A few decades or even centuries is nothing to the universe. You’ll be an infant to me the day you die, whether you lie down now or a millennium from now. If Elan chooses to make something of her time, I’ll not stand in her path.”

“Crazy. You’re both crazy,” Caleb mumbled. “I need to talk with Simone . . .”

“You know the way,” Merlin said dismissively, turning away. “I have things to keep my attention. See yourself out.”

With those words, the entity vanished into the ether, leaving Caleb to stagger his way out of the room. He bumped into two tables and the wall because he was focused on nothing but the thought of Elan facing an entire city of demons.

Simone would know what to do.

He hoped.

Behind him, in the empty library, the now forgotten book glowed briefly before fading back to its normal unobtrusive appearance.

*****

The book was an intelligence of its own renown, though those days were long gone when it had been discovered by those who set it inside the library of Avalon. One of the ancient treasures, items of power left by the one who created the universe and everything within, the book had been at the center of more than one pivotal moment in the history of the world, and now it seemed it had found another.

Two people had touched it, two souls capable of standing against the flow of time and not drowning in the force of it all. Only to those who could withstand the current of time would the book impart knowledge. For anyone else, the power it could offer was worthless at best . . . destructive at worst.

The book was awake and reached soft tendrils of awareness out to the world around it. Sleeping no longer, it became aware of the situation with something akin to alarm.

The enemy had not only reached this plane but had all but conquered it.

How had it gotten this bad?

The book could still reach those it had touched, though only the two most recent were still among the living. So it was limited in what it could perceive, particularly as one of the two was currently wandering down a rather drab hallway and was observing nothing of interest.

The other was sitting at the center of a now ancient security network.

The book shifted and vanished from the library entirely.

*****

Elan’s eyes were open, but she was seeing nothing with her conscious mind. She had sunk so deep into her subconscious that she felt the deep-seated vibration of the dreaming just a slight shift in focus away. She rode that feeling, right on the edge of sinking into the dreaming fully or being ejected violently back into the real world, but managed to keep her balance.

She could see the room around her. Somehow even the images projecting behind her were visible, and her hearing could pick out what sound was being reported on the image she chose to focus on. Time was moving in a sluggish flow as she shifted focus smoothly from one to another, looking for something . . . something she didn’t really know but hoped she would recognize when she saw it.

Despite her enhanced perception, a light glimmered into existence behind her without her taking any notice of it. It hung there for a moment before descending slowly and fading away just as it contacted the back of her head.

Elan didn’t notice the moment at all. She remained intent on what she was doing as she tried to follow the directions she’d found in the book and Kaern had imparted to her before . . . well, before they had been parted. The dreaming was a powerful ocean she was trying to tame, a task as impossible as it might be in the real world. Most of the time she just tried to ride the surging tidal force, hoping not to be thrown clear back to the real world before she could finish her task.

Something nudged her, distracting her briefly before she saw what had drawn her attention and pulled her focus to a screen to her right. She immediately glanced at it and was surprised to see a tall, handsome human there on the screen. This one wasn’t beaten. He didn’t cower as the demons moved around him, but he didn’t seem to be popular with them either. She wondered if he was a collaborator, like that man, but there was no sense of that in his eyes as he looked in her general direction without any idea he was being watched.

Tall and muscled, with burned-red hair and a thick beard to match, the man almost had a swagger as he walked in the open. He carried a hammer, a short but heavy-looking thing. Elan had little experience with such things, though she had used and seen one used at her childhood home. Her parents’ hammer had been smaller and lighter and looked to be a frail thing compared to what this man carried.

With a snap, Elan pushed back to consciousness and rose to her feet in a smooth motion as she turned to focus on the image of the man in question.

“You,” she said to no one, cocking her head to one side. “You’re different. Why are you not like the others?”

She looked for a while longer, then turned on her heel and stalked out of the command and control room.

*****

Merlin examined the work as it progressed, watching the demons and human slaves as they quite literally bled and died to do the work they had apparently been ordered to accomplish.

He was most interested in the actions of one of the leaders of the group, however, or perhaps it might be more accurate to call it a specialist.

Merlin recognized the shriveled little demon from combat records and knew just how dangerous it was, despite appearances. Entire units of specialized combat groups had died screaming after being sent against just one of those things.

Tentatively code-named “shaman” by the military authority, back when such a thing existed, the shaman-type demon was a specialist in engraving runic words of power. They had never been able to capture one to properly decode the system in its entirety, but the code had been broken in part at least.

Runes, as they were known to humans—Merlin had no real idea what the demons called them—were symbols that were linked to the quantum state of the universe. Properly etched, a rune would link directly to the foundation of everything and cause it to change in specific ways.

During the end days of the war, one of the last great research projects was to create a human runic language. It was a task that was never to be completed, but it provided him with a base to decode the work he was observing.

I’m almost certain that sequence is to open a portal, but why would they go to this trouble for that? Merlin was honestly puzzled. The demons controlled the world and had no issues bringing more of their kind across whatever dimensional borders they’d previously crossed, so why go to this effort here and now?

None of it made any sense to the elemental intelligence, but that didn’t stop him from observing and trying to make what sense he could of the situation.

Intuition was a human trait, but it didn’t take any leaps of logic to infer that something important was happening here.

Chapter 8

Ser’Goth leaned over the rail, looking down on the city that lay sprawled out far below her. She had loved this view since the first time she’d stepped into the final city to fall. Lemuria had been one of three great capitals of the local population. The first two collapsed very early in the war, but the last—the city of Lemuria—had held out for far longer.

Buildings of towering, angled spires, able to reach the skies and seemingly beyond, grew up from below her, but her own position was without question the tallest and most imposing. She remembered the original blue-steel colors of the buildings, but now most of them were a dull gray and red from the coating of dust that clung to them, even high up in the air.

The fall of the city had signified the end of human resistance in a real way, the war going from one of field combat to interminable guerilla war. Lemuria was a symbol of demonic victory over the humans, just as it had been a symbol of human defiance of the inevitable.

It was rather nicer back then, even I’ll admit that.

Demons weren’t much for maintenance, sadly, and they were rather hard on humans who might have been. Over the years, decades and more, the number of people who could repair—hells, even the number of people who were capable of cleaning—the city properly had dwindled to near nothing.

She’d never realized just how complicated cleaning a city like Lemuria was until she had tried to solve that problem. The tall spires of the ocean-bound city were rather difficult to clean for humans, and the demons who could manage it without machinery were not inclined to the task. The shorebirds that were an interminable pestilence, no matter how many of them she had killed, befouled it almost as badly as the Ninth Circle demons did.

She sighed as she leaned back from the rail and turned around to walk back into her suite.

Someday the building in which she now resided would fall into the ocean and be swallowed by time. Demons didn’t build things; they didn’t create.

They only destroyed.

I think I will put in for another frontier assignment once the elder are through, Ser’Goth decided. Let someone else watch this world fall apart over the next ten thousand years.

“Call the generals,” she told her aide as she walked into the central suite. “I will hear their reports.”

“Yes, m’lady.”

She ignored the obsequious gestures and fawning, walking past the Seventh Circle demon with only mild disgust at the deformities it showed. Unlike Eighth and Ninth, at least body parts were mostly staying where they were supposed to on this one.

Unfortunately, the more . . . impressive of demons were also too powerful to be properly tractable for playing games with. It was one of the many reasons—other than the obvious—she rather enjoyed her time toying with humans.

Humans were such an odd contradiction to her.

Cast in the form of the first, they were comely and alluring to one such as her, but they were so frail and weak. The first had been masterpiece, power incarnate the likes of which the universe had never seen before . . . and likely never would again. Humans were practically sacrilege, their very existence mocking the true form, existing in countless dimensions like a plague.

Demons were little better, of course, at least until they reached the lowest circles, where true power lay waiting. But it wasn’t power that a demon lacked; it was the purity of the original form.

She glanced at herself in the full-length mirror that made up the wall across from her.

Ser’Goth found her own form a comfort. She was tall, muscled, with the right curves to meet the desires of the original form . . .but the signs of the demonic infection were there as well. The slightly curved horns protruding from her skull marked her even more so than the azure tint of her skin or the reddish glow that filtered out through her every orifice. Even her prized wings were more a mockery than a tribute to her strength, showing that she had not yet full restored her form to what it should be.

She had time left to climb, to purify her form and power. Two more circles, and she would be of the First Circle, if not of the origin. She flexed her left hand, clawed nails biting into her palm as she clenched the hand into a fist to watch the muscles of her arm bulge in chorded unison.

Almost to the top . . . or, I suppose, the bottom. She chuckled softly to herself at that thought, casually wrapping a robe around herself as she left the suite and headed for the council chambers.

*****

“What’s going on?” Jol asked as he leaned against the filthy wall, sheltering in the shadow of the building as he watched the mass of demons drive slaves through the streets. “That’s a big workforce, isn’t it?”

“Geomancy takes muscle, Jol,” Sindri said simply as he too looked on from where the three of them were watching, unseen.

“Geomancy?”

Brokkr shrugged. “Stone magic, boy. Powerful but slow. See the scrawny forner there being carried in the palanquin?”

Jol had no clue what in the hells a palanquin was, but since he could see only one “scrawny forner” being carried in anything, he assumed that Brokkr was referring to a covered carriage of sorts being carried by six Eighth or Ninth Circle demons. The brothers’ favorite obscenity aside, Jol could certainly see why the other little man referred to the demon as scrawny. He looked positively ancient, such that Jol was surprised that a stiff wind hadn’t blown the demon right out of the carriage.

“I see him,” Jol nodded. “Looks like a crippled Ninth could kill him by breathing on the poor bastard.”

“Looks can be deceiving,” Sindri snorted. “That would be a rune-master. He’s sacrificed his physical power for mastery of the language of the universe itself. Give him time, and he’ll bring down armies all by himself. He’s here to help complete the gates that will bring the elder through.”

Jol looked on with a little more interest, hefting his hammer casually as he considered the distance between him and the frail-looking demon.

“Don’t bother.” Brokkr laughed, reading him easily. “He’ll be protected. That’s what the palanquin is for.”

“Runes engraved in the frame, you think?” Sindri asked idly.

“At least. Probably in the bones of the poor bastards carrying him too,” Brokkr answered.

Jol looked between them, confused. “I don’t understand.”

“Runes are what the demons call the first language,” Brokkr answered, “the language that was used to write the universe into existence. Runes describe everything you see around you and everything you don’t. A master of the runic language can rewrite the laws of the universe in localized fashion to do things like create a shield of pure force around the frame of the palanquin, for example, or perhaps convert the poor forners carrying it to directional explosives designed to blow up in the face of an attacker.”

“Or maybe this one has an imagination,” Sindri cut in. “There’s little enough limit to it if you’re truly competent with the runic language.”

“Do you know it?” Jol asked, wondering if he could learn. Such a thing sounded worth more than all the hammers in the city combined.

“A few words, half a handful of phrases.” Sindri shrugged. “The language of creation is not to be trifled with. A rune-master pays for his power with consequences few would truly be willing to endure. We learned some that was useful to our purposes and left well enough alone.”

“I see,” Jol said, disappointed.

The slaves and demons continued down the thoroughfare, eventually turning a corner and vanishing from sight as the trio watched.

“Should we follow?” Jol asked, uncertain.

The twins looked at one another and shrugged in unison.

“Why not?” Brokkr said for them. “Might be something worth seeing. Not often you get to see a stone circle being constructed.”

“Be amusing to see how many of them die in the attempt,” Sindri said with a nasty chuckle. “The planet, she isn’t bound to be liking this act.”

“True enough.”

*****

Elan stepped over the lip of the security door as it rolled open and into the city of Lemuria, the city of demons.

The ground was filthy. She grimaced as she picked her way forward, thankful for her sealed armor. She could almost smell it anyway through the armor, feel it through her boots. The demonic filth permeated the air, sat inches thick on every surface. It went against everything she knew about living and everything she’d been taught.

How can any thinking beings live like this?

She did her best to ignore it as she stayed close to the shadowed side of the buildings, working her way upward from the depths of the city to the open air. Things were moving around her. The armor was tracking motion from all quarters, but she ignored it for the most part. Unless something got close to her, she wasn’t interested. There were more important things to do than kill minor demons, if that was what they were.

She curled the cloak she had taken from the village around her, the ratty cloth hiding her armor and weapon as she stepped out of the shadows and into the light of the sun, shivering as she felt the evil it exposed. Demons moved everywhere she looked. Her hand itched to draw her weapon, but she resisted the urge. None of them bothered to look at her as she moved, not more than in passing at least, so she in turn ignored them, despite the hatred she felt to her core.

Someday they would get what was coming to them.

Someday.

Not today.

Taking a deep breath, Elan centered herself and used the display on her armor to locate herself within the city and find a path to where she wanted to be.

He’s moving inward, to the center. Demon concentration is highest there. Why would he be going that way?

Something was going on; she could tell that from the security systems. They were counting demons. They’d started automatically when activated, but she didn’t know how or why. Something built into the system? Whatever it was, it was useful, which was more than she could say for much of what she’d found in the city’s systems.

Everyone she passed was intent on keeping their heads down, clearly trying not to attract any attention. She didn’t have to think too hard on why that was. She’d seen the acts of violence and cruelty on the security displays. Attention here was rarely, if ever, a good thing, and anyone who felt no fear in standing out was either insane or powerful enough to survive the response that might be incurred.

She trudged deeper into the city, eyes taking in everything she could.

It had been a beautiful city once. An amazing city, if she were one to judge. She probably wasn’t, though, having been brought up in what she now was too aware was a simple stone hut. The human city had seemed splendid, but compared to even the rotting bones of Lemuria, it too had been little more than hovels.

Our people built this.

She felt awe at that.

Humans had built the wonders she saw, however much those wonders had been tarnished since that time.

Humans had been great once.

That greatness had been destroyed by the demons, and somehow that struck at her heart deeper than she’d imagined anything could since the night she’d lost everything while cowering on a boulder in the middle of the badlands.

*****

“Ouch.” Sindri winced comically. “That had to hurt.”

Jol looked away from the carnage where one of the giant stones had toppled, killing humans and demons alike as it crushed everything in its path to the ground. He’d seen a lot of violence in his life, had even caused a fair amount of it, but there was something wrong about watching any living being pulped under that much weight.

“Oh yeah, she’s pissed.” Brokkr chuckled, shaking his head in clear amusement.

Jol covered his mouth, refusing to look back at the mess until his stomach settled a little. “How can you find that funny?”

“After a while you get used to it, boy,” Brokkr said, his tone dripping with amusement. “Besides, if you knew what they were trying to do with those stones, you’d likely be singing a new tune yourself.”

“Some of them are being forced,” Jol said sourly, still avoiding looking at the carnage.

Sindri shrugged. “That’s true enough, but it won’t affect the outcome one whit. When they finish, it’s the end for this world and every human on it. You too, boy, and them as well. Is it worse, somehow, that they die now?”

Jol spat a foul taste from his mouth, spittle spattering across the side of the building he’d aimed at.

“Still no cause for laughing at them,” he grumbled petulantly, hating himself for the childish petulance he couldn’t keep out of his tone even as he said it.

Sindri gestured idly. “There’s truth in that, but we’re damned souls anyway. We’ll take our amusements where we can and thank you to save your moralizing for someone who can be saved.”

“Look.” Brokkr interrupted him. “The little forner is trying to do something to help things along.”

Jol looked up, grimacing at the mix of blood and flesh that had squeezed out from under the toppled stone but looking past it to where the wizened demon was now casually walking through the carnage while . . . drawing on the stonework?

“Is he . . . painting?” Jol asked, confused.

“In blood.” Sindri nodded, now with a look of distaste. “Ugly way of things.”

Jol didn’t have a clue what he meant by that, but even as far back as they were, he could see wisps of smoke rising from the lettering the demon had put into the stone. “I . . . I don’t understand.”

“He’s using the blood of the fallen to bind the Earth Mother,” Brokkr said darkly. “It’ll poison the land here for ages to come. It’s time to be moving on, brother.”

“Agreed.” Sindri shook his head. “That’s one sick forner. Stupid one too. I think we were wrong about him. Doubt he’s a master after all.”

“Hopped-up apprentice, likely,” Brokkr nodded, “given just enough instruction to be dangerous . . . to himself and everyone around him.”

“Someone wanted this job done, no matter the consequences. You think she knows?” Sindri asked almost idly.

Jol looked up sharply, knowing they were speaking of Ser’Goth. They always were when they used that tone.

“Not likely.” Brokkr shook his head. “She’s a piece of work, but she likes this city. She’d not allow that, not unless she were ready to abandon it, and we know she isn’t yet.”

“Perhaps we could let her know then?” Jol offered hesitantly.

The two brothers exchanged long glances, considering.

“Tricky,” Sindri said finally. “You’d have to let it slip without appearing to know too much. Not sure you can pull it off.”

“Doesn’t matter anyway,” Brokkr sighed. “If they’re doing this here, then they’re doing it elsewhere . . . and that means someone else has given them their orders. Ser’Goth isn’t the final word, not even here. The orders would have come from one of the originals.”

“You really think they’re involved here? This dimension is the ass end of the universe,” Sindri objected. “Seems likely that someone is just being an upstart.”

“Does it matter?” Jol asked. “Either way, if she gets involved, it might slow things up a little.”

The brothers shook their heads.

“Sadly, no, it won’t,” Sindri said. “This is the endgame. She won’t like it, having to abandon her city and her throne, but that day is coming anyway. I expect she’s already making plans to move on.”

“As should we,” Brokkr said with a heavy voice. “Nothing here for us any longer.”

The two looked at one another for a long time, then spared a sorrowful look to the third member of their little group. Jol felt a chill but said nothing.

What was there to say?

*****

Ser’Goth looked over the reports her generals had brought before her, ignoring the occasional twinge of nerves that could be felt from one or another of them.

These were more in line with what she had expected to see, honest reports of progress complete with the expected setbacks. None that were too out of line, thankfully, but enough that she could tell that she wasn’t being brushed aside with what her underlings believed she wanted to hear.

“Better,” she said, looking up at them. “Now, how do you plan to address the setbacks?”

The group of powerful demonic generals shifted nervously under her glare, quailing a moment before regaining their steel. One might have been forgiven for assuming them to be cowards, but Ser’Goth knew better than that. Facing death was something each of them had done a thousand times over before they even approached their current level.

It wasn’t death she would hand them if they failed her, and they all knew it.

The first squared himself off and nodded once to her, curtly but with respect. The demonic general was taller than Ser’Goth, at just over eight feet, and almost as broad across the shoulders. He was a Fifth Circle demon, but bordering on advancing into the Fourth if he survived for much longer. His black carapace skin glistened in the torchlight that provided them with illumination in the council chambers, the angular features of his face almost attractive, though Ser’Goth knew that he was intelligent enough to avoid getting caught in her . . . charms.

He’d have to be to have reached his current position.

“I have already dispatched additional slaves, as well as another rune-master, to my sector,” he told her. “There have been no reports of any local resistance. Few humans are still in my sector, and none of them are organized. The setbacks appear to be simple construction . . . incidents.”

She scoffed lightly at that appellation.

She was no fool and knew too well that what they were doing went against the laws of nature and the Creator himself. The incidents, as he described them, were the world and the universe acting in a last-ditch defense of their own sanctity.

A futile defense, but one that would be pitched anyway. It was a feral, instinctive thing. If the universe and world had wanted to stop them, they would have stepped in to support the humans when they had a chance of victory. That wasn’t how the universal laws were written, however, and now that the world recognized the danger, it was far too late.

“Very well,” she said, looking over the others. “May I assume everyone else has done at least this much?”

A couple of them looked guilty before hurriedly nodding in affirmation, which she let pass while noting their identities carefully.

When next they made a mistake, as everyone would eventually, she would ensure she got some fun out of them. For now, she would let them issue those orders—however belatedly—and allow them to believe that they had put one over on her.

Punishing them at the moment would be fun but not productive.

“Very well. Does anyone have more to add?” she asked calmly, waiting.

When there was no further response, she nodded firmly.

“Then go; make certain nothing more slows the execution of your orders. The elder come through on schedule.”

*****

Elan paused at the edge of a building, hugging against the filth-encrusted stone as the tall redheaded man and two short men who looked very much alike walked past her.

The security systems had guided her right to him, but now that she had found him, Elan found she had no idea what to do next.

Wordlessly, she watched them move on past her some distance before she pushed off the building and set out to follow. The streets were oddly empty, given that security had registered the area as being one of the most demonically dense parts of the city. She didn’t know what to make of that but figured she could worry about it later.

For the moment, she was more intent on following the trio and trying to figure out what it was about the redhead that had called her attention.

He didn’t seem all that out of the ordinary.

He registered as human in her displays and to her eyes. Neither was exactly foolproof, not unless she could get a lot closer for a much better look at him. She knew that her armor could detect demonic influence, but it took Merlin’s skill to ferret out those details, and he wasn’t talking to her for whatever reason.

Still, the redhead looked human enough.

Really human, actually.

Elan shook her head sharply, wondering where that thought and the flash of heat that accompanied it had come from.

It didn’t matter. She just had to do what she set out to do . . . once she figured out exactly what that was. So she followed them through the streets, hanging back and using the security systems of the old city to keep track of them as the population in the streets thickened.

She was rather proud of herself, following them so easily without being noticed, right up until they entered a spot with no cameras and she lost track of the trio. Elan rushed forward to catch up, hoping to get a glimpse of them again, only to skid to a halt as she came around a corner and ran right into the faces of the three, who were waiting for her with stony expressions.

“Now who do you suppose this is, brother?” one of the short ones asked the other. “Looks kinda small for anyone she would send after us.”

The other short one shrugged. “Does it matter? Probably a snatch thief, thinking they found easy marks. Jol?”

The big redhead nodded, hefting the hammer from where it had hung on his belt.

“Whatever you say, Brokkr.” He stepped forward, muscles bulging as he brought the hammer up. “I’ll take care of it.”

Chapter 9

The flash of light left Simone blinking as she stalked out of the transport center without missing a beat, heading deeper into the facility as she glared at the very air itself in front of her.

“Merlin!”

Her voice echoed off the corridors, reverberating back and forth until it came back to her, unanswered. She didn’t let that slow her at all, fully intent on finding the blasted apparition that was so full of himself. She was surprised he hadn’t popped up already.

“I know you heard me, you old fool! Where are you?” she snarled again, pausing at a crossway to look down both directions, uncertain which to pick.

The lights went out, both the way she’d come and in all but one of the other options. Simone raised an eyebrow but nodded determinedly.

“Alright, I’ll bite,” she said as she walked.

She followed the lit corridors for several minutes, getting well and truly lost as she started to forget about her ire and started to worry about whether she could find her way out. It was about that point when the last corridor opened up to a large space . . . larger than any she could remember seeing inside in her life. She stared around herself, stunned for a few seconds before her eyes alighted on the image of Merlin in the middle of the space, and she abruptly remembered why she had come in the first place.

“You!” she snapped, stalking forward, ignoring the fact that the floor dropped away on either side of her in the massive area, so focused was she on the image of the old man before her. “What did you do to Elan?”

Merlin didn’t bother to turn around—he too was intent on his task—but his annoyed sigh could be clearly heard all the same.

“Why you people have such a low impression of that girl completely befuddles me,” the intelligence said with a hint of exasperation in his tone. “As stubborn as that child is, there’s little I could hope to do to convince her of anything she wasn’t already intent on.”

“Don’t you give me that nonsense,” Simone snapped. “Stubbornness can be turned on someone easy enough, and I have little doubt you’re skilled in it. Even if you’re innocent of that sort of manipulation, you could have held her here, and you know it!”

“I do?” he said, again not bothering to look at her. “Perhaps you’re right. By what right would I have, however?”

“Right? She’s a child!”

“She’s old enough to have killed in your defense.” Merlin finally looked up, his tone growing cold. “Old enough to be one of the few out of your entire group of survivors to truly lift a weapon in the cause of the group’s survival. If she is old enough to serve as your protector, then she is old enough to make decisions for herself.”

Simone drew back, both the tone and the words causing her to pause and consider her position briefly.

Finally she rallied. “I fought, and so did many others. Don’t give me that.”

“Then should you, or any of the others, wish to travel somewhere, I will take pleasure in offering you my aid,” Merlin told her simply. “However, I will not enforce your opinion on someone else merely because you think you should have that authority. You have none over me, and you would do well to remember it.”

Simone balled up her fists. “Where did you send her?”

“Only where she wanted to go,” Merlin said. “However, right now, I believe we have a problem closer to home.”

“Don’t try to distract . . .” Simone paused, looking past Merlin to the images he was focused on. “What is that?”

“Activity near Atlantis,” he said darkly. “Initially I believed it to be of little import, as it seemed unlikely that they would approach the community . . .”

“Those demons are coming to Atlantis?” Simone paled, looking at the numbers of the monstrosities on the screens.

“No. However, that may not save any of us,” Merlin replied darkly. “They’re doing something else. Something worse, I believe.”

“Worse? Believe?” Simone grimaced. “What do you mean?”

“I’ve only been able to translate parts of their runic engravings, but what I can read are bad portents for the future,” Merlin answered. “And they might explain an anomaly that Elanthielle exposed to me earlier.”

Indeed, he was terrified that they did explain the mist all too well. For a brief time, Merlin wasn’t ashamed to admit that he had begun to hope once more. However, now his hopes seemed to be dashed.

He knew well that only an outside power could have so clouded the future. Within an enclosed system, such as an isolated universe, it was possible to predict all things so long as one could maintain all the possible variables. In fact, it was even possible to let the universe itself handle most of the work, which was how Merlin could look into the future as well as the past.

An external influence, however, could destroy that clarity in an instant.

So when he saw the mist, he’d hoped—prayed was perhaps the word—that an outside force had intervened against the demonic forces. Unfortunately, if his fears were correct, then he was looking at that very outside influence in the making . . . and it would not be on the side of the humans.

“They’re opening a portal to bring . . . something through,” he said.

“More demons?” Simone asked, looking sick to her stomach.

“We are not so lucky, I believe.”

She twisted away from the images, looking at the grave expression on the image of the old man’s face.

“What do you mean?” she asked, dreading the answer.

Merlin gestured, and one of the screens changed. It showed a close image of stone with inscribed symbols that he circled with red as she looked.

“This symbol is one that your ancestors knew of, but only because even the demons who were masters of this art seemed to fear its use,” he said tensely. “It is the runic word for elder.”

Simone shook her head. “I’m missing something?”

“Likely more than one thing,” Merlin said with a dry tone. “However, that is for another time. Elder is a term with very specific meaning to the demons. It’s their equivalent of . . . well, demons. Beings of power, legend . . . and horror.”

“That should be good, though?” she asked. “If the demons are afraid, wouldn’t that be good?”

“Simone, think,” Merlin chided her. “If it were good, why would they be building a stone summoning circle to draw them here?”

“Oh.”

That was a point she couldn’t deny, as much as she might have wanted to. Certainly Merlin was right on that point, if nothing else at all. The demons wouldn’t call something to the earth that would not benefit them in some way, and anything that benefited them would be bad for the inhabitants of Atlantis and every other human on the entire world.

“What can we do?” she asked softly, eyes now glued to the displays.

“I am honestly uncertain if there is anything that we can do,” Merlin admitted. “Avalon does not have the weapons to combat even that demonic group, to say nothing of a new interdimensional incursion. Atlantis doesn’t have the forces to do the fighting, even if Avalon could equip them.”

Simone slumped, closing her eyes.

“I get so tired,” she said as she rested her hands on the rail in front of her, head bowed. “I get so tired of losing. We lost everything we had, over and over again . . . and now, as we claw some tiny fraction of it back, we’re going to lose it all over again . . . aren’t we?”

Merlin sighed. “Life is loss, Simone. One does not live without losing.”

“There are limits to the loss a person, or a people, can endure.”

Silence reigned between them for a moment before Merlin responded.

“Indeed there are. You cannot lose more than you have,” he said. “And some things cannot be taken by force but must be surrendered freely. Perhaps it is time we ceased surrendering.”

Simone glared at the displays, where the monsters were constructing whatever it was that they were constructing, and nodded slowly as her lips curled into a silent snarl.

“In that, you old fool,” she said with a dark laugh, “we’re in agreement. If they want what we have, they’ll have to take it . . . and if we die, we die on our feet, not on our knees.” She paused, then shot another glare at Merlin. “But don’t you think this gets you off the hook for letting Elan go running about some demon-infested hellhole! If she doesn’t come back, I will find a way to make you hurt.”

“If she doesn’t come back,” Merlin said somberly, “you won’t need to.”

*****

Elan stepped into the blow that was coming, surprising the big man when she caught his arm on the downward swing and stopped it cold. His muscles bulged, first as he tried to force the hammer through anyway and then again as he tried to pull away, neither motion gaining him anything. She just held him until his free hand went to his belt and she caught a glimpse of reflected light as he drew a small blade.

Elan stepped back and twisted, pulling him along with her, and casually tossed him end over end down the alley as she tried to figure out how to get herself out of the mess she’d just bumbled into. She could just run, of course, but she needed information, and these three seemed as likely a source as she might find.

Unfortunately, now that she was in close, there was a clear demon taint to the air around them, though she couldn’t tell if it was one or all of them at the source.

While Elan was thinking about that, the others had gone on with their own observations and decisions apace.

“Interesting,” one of the short men said, sounding genuinely amused. “More than it appears, this one. Maybe she did send it?”

“Maybe. Either way,” the other said, “best to deal with it.”

“Agreed.”

The two stopped talking as they advanced on Elan with more speed than she’d expected from either of them. The first came in from her left side, hard and fast, an axe appearing in his hands from nowhere, which Elan would have boggled at if she’d had the time.

As it was, she was barely able to bring up her arm in a block, wincing as she felt the strength of the blow translate right through her armor. She kicked out, catching him low in the hip, and earned a grunt of surprise from her target but managed very little else otherwise.

A flash of motion in her periphery caused her to duck and twist, another axe blade flashing over her head as she put her torso behind a solid punch that dug deep into the second little man’s belly with depressingly little result aside from another grunt of surprise and maybe a bit of a lift and stumble back. Elan scrambled out of the way of a third blow, from the left side again, and backpedaled to disengage from the immediate fight.

She didn’t have time for this, and Elan found herself looking for ways to withdraw from the fight. A motion in the direction of one such way was instantly blocked by one of the little men, who grinned widely at her as he ran his thumb over the chipped blade of his axe.

“Going somewhere?”

“I don’t want to fight,” she said finally, looking around.

“A little late for that now, isn’t it?”

Elan took another step away from the two, clearing a little room as she swept her cloak off her shoulder and went for the sidearm perched on her hip.

The two men’s eyes widened, and they rushed her as one as the sidearm cleared her harness and started to come up. Before she could draw a target on either, the closest was inside her guard and had thrown the haft of his axe into her wrist. The shock of the blow broke her grip, and his follow-up blow sent the sidearm flying into the air.

Elan was stunned by the speed, but she’d been training most of her life to fight dirty. Her father hadn’t been a big believer in propriety, something that both Kaern and Simone had enforced. So she reacted on instinct and delivered a knee to the man’s crotch, though it wound up being more of her shin that connected actually, as he was so much shorter than she was used to.

A keening sound tore itself from the little man’s throat as his cheeks puffed out and eyes bulged in response to the blow. Elan didn’t take time to find any satisfaction in it, instead following up the success with a low underhand blow that hammered his sternum and then an overhand cross that rang every bell between the man’s ears as it sent him to the ground in a slump.

She felt more than saw the motion of the other rushing in on her and reacted, again on instinct, as she looked around to find the sidearm that was still in flight. She leapt from her position, planting a foot on the closest building and using that to redirect herself into a dive aimed right at the sidearm spinning through the air.

It was there, right in front of her, the world slowing to a crawl as she reached out to grasp at it, to pluck it from space and put it back in her hand where it belonged.

A spinning axe from below collided with the sidearm, sending both spinning away from her grasp, and then the world sped right back up again.

She twisted in midair, hitting another building with her back and slapping her arms out to absorb the impact before sliding down to the ground, where she landed in a crouch with eyes fixed on the remaining little man, who was laughing uproariously as he stood over his comrade.

“What the circles are you laughing at, brother?” the one on the ground groaned as he rolled over and tried to get back to his feet.

“What do you think? She nailed you right good in the jollies,” the laughing one answered.

“She?” the first groaned, looking around with water-filled eyes.

“Aye. ’Less that’s a twelve-year-old boy with some development issues, I’d say you got caught good and solid by a teenage girl.”

“Mother forner,” the first spat, both word and spit seeming to splatter on the filth-encrusted ground.

Elan tensed as she heard motion from the side and saw the big redhead picking her sidearm up from the ground. The slight glow of the weapon went dead instantly as he did, causing him to look at it in confusion as she lunged.

“Jol! No! Toss it away!” one of the men yelled.

The redhead looked confused but made to throw the weapon over to the pair.

“Not at us!” The other frantically waved his hands. “Away! Away! Anywhere but—”

The two grimaced in unison as Elan plowed into the redhead, shoulder first, and folded him damn near in half as the air rushed from the big man’s lungs.

“Ouch. That had ta hurt.”

“Worry about the boy later,” the second snapped as he broke into a flat-out sprint just as her hand plucked the sidearm from the limp hand of the redhead, causing it to hum and faintly glow again as it activated. “Move!”

Both were charging as Elan wrapped an arm around the throat of the redheaded man and pulled him upright to use as additional shelter. The two retrieved their axes, barely even affecting their charge, and part of her was impressed by the smooth economy of motion. It was the sort of motion she aspired to, what she saw hints of in Simone and that Kaern had wielded with casual ease.

She leveled her weapon on the closest but was a heartbeat late as a crossing blow deflected her hand up and away just as the weapon discharged.

The antihydrogen pellet cracked through the air and slammed into a building across the way from them, breaking the magnetic seal as it did. The instant conversion of antihydrogen and a commensurate section of the building directly to energy unleashed a thunderclap that reverberated across all of them and out through the city. Elan, having been prepared this time, managed to avoid losing her weapon but found herself on the defense as she tried to keep them from hitting her with their axes by alternately blocking with her sidearm or simply interposing the redhead between her and her attackers.

I need to get out of here!

Desperate to break free of the situation, she flicked her wrist, mentally nudging her sidearm, and felt it reassemble itself in an instant until she held a dull gray sword in its place.

Now with more reach, she held them off a little bit farther from her and her . . . hostage? Captive? Elan really had no idea what to consider the groggy, barely conscious redhead in her grasp.

She pushed that thought aside, focusing on fighting her way around to a position she could use to break free and escape from . . . though she was rather angry about the whole situation. First, getting caught flat-footed like she had was just stupid, pure and simple . . . but now just three of them had managed to hold her off while she was in armor and carrying a sidearm?

Disgraceful.

She was simply disgusted with her showing.

Elan blocked another axe blow with the edge of her blade, surprised that the axe had survived it as well as it had. She’d seen the blade of the sidearm cut through steel with ease in the past, but there was no time to really think about it as the two little men pushed the attack suddenly hard and fast.

They came in together, a whirling pattern of steel and flashes of light that pushed her to her limit . . . her limit and the limit of her armor and sidearm, as she desperately threw everything she had left into her defense. Elan wasn’t even thinking by that point as a crackling energy began to build between them, her actions purely driven by instinct and desperation.

Even so, she didn’t even see it coming when one of the little men hooked his axe in around her blade and twisted with enough force to yank it from her hand and send it clattering to the wall and ground.

Elan was snapped out of the battle fugue in that moment, staring at the crackling blue lightning that was dancing along the blade of the axes the two men carried.

“You’re like Kaern!” she blurted out, stunned.

The two exchanged a long glance and shifted marginally apart, making her twist to try to keep both in view and to keep her only remaining defense, aside from her armor, interposed between them as best as possible.

“And what would ye know of the wanderer, girl?” the one she’d nailed between the legs demanded, still walking with just a hint of a limp.

Elan, rather angry with herself for her shock and loss of control, angrily shut her mouth with a click of her teeth. She kept moving, keeping the redhead between her and the other two, her eyes dancing back and forth between them.

“Well now,” the other man said as he stepped over and knelt down by her fallen sidearm. He picked it up, and again the dim glow that signified the weapon being active died down. The edge of her blade was now less than iron. It was too light even to make a decent club. “I haven’t seen one of these in a long time.”

“Standard issue, brother?”

“Not a peck,” the man with the blade in hand said firmly. “This is special service issue.”

He looked over his shoulder to the smoking hole in the building Elan had accidentally shot.

“One of the late-war models, no less,” he said with a laughing shake of his head. “After they stopped giving a damn about collateral damage.”

The other looked over at her severely. “Now where did a slip of a girl pick up something like this?”

“I’m more interested in how she knows that old bastard Kaern,” the other said, still laughing.

Elan looked between them, trying to determine if she had any chance of getting her weapon back. She did not want to go back to Merlin and admit that she’d lost another sword.

“Put him down, lass,” the laughing one said, a little more seriously. “The boy’s a bit dense, but we rather like him. Don’t make us angry.”

“Angrier,” the one with a limp growled.

That set the other off laughing again, gales of it just exploding from his mouth as he held his stomach against the cramping pain.

“Oh shut up, brother.”

The redhead in her arms groaned, trying to shift away, but Elan tightened up her grip, and he moaned in pain as the armor-enhanced arm wrapped around his neck cut off his air.

The limping man sighed, waddling slightly as he went over to his brother and grabbed the sidearm out of the laughing fool’s hand. With a casual flick, he set it flipping in Elan’s direction. She reacted on instinct, grabbing it out of the air. The glow returned to the edge of the blade almost instantly, and she looked between it and the two for a long moment before she relaxed her grip and pushed the redhead away.

The big, muscled man slipped from her grasp and sprawled to the ground and filth that covered it with a splatting sound that made her wince slightly under her armor.

“If you can work one of those, I expect you’re here about the elder,” the limping man said, scowling. “We’re not enemies, lass . . . doubt we’re allies, before you go thinking that, but my brother and I have no reason to be fighting you.”

Elan cocked her head, looking at him from under her armor.

“Elder?” she asked, confused.

*****

Simone stood in front of the people of Atlantis, in the center of the small town’s square, and looked over the faces of those who were at least fit enough to consider fighting.

The world was a cruel place, she reflected as she considered what she was about to say . . . about to ask. A kind world would let people rest after losing all they had. A kind world would not have let them lose so much in the first place.

That wasn’t the world they were living in.

“Merlin,” she said, making her voice carry with a practiced effort, “has informed me of a demon incursion in this very island chain.”

A low murmur of fear instantly went up, and she had little choice but to let it go for a moment. Any attempt to silence them would fail if she didn’t give them some chance to express their fears. She was well aware of how people thought. After a moment, she raised her arms for silence and received it.

“There is little concern for the moment that they will find their way to Atlantis,” she reassured them. “They appear intent on another island some distance farther down the chain from here. However, what they’re doing may be of concern. We have to make a decision, one that may have no good options, I am very much afraid.”

“Just tell us, Simone.” Caleb spoke up with a bit of a grin. “No sense playing games.”

“Shut it, boy.” Another man, considerably older, laughed at him. “Some of us would rather play games a while.”

Simone rolled her eyes but again waved down the rising wave of nervous laughter and chatter.

“We could ignore them. Odds are they’ll not come here,” she said. “There’s no sign that they will for the moment. However, what they’re working on has us concerned.”

She looked over the sea of faces, satisfied that she had their attention.

“Merlin,” she said, invoking a near-magical name. He was the one who had sent the wave, who controlled the magical transports and other things that had saved them in the past. Besides Elan, who had more of a familiar and visual presence, Merlin was an oft-whispered savior for the people of Atlantis. “Merlin believes that they are constructing a portal to bring through something worse than demons. If that happens, especially this close to us, I don’t believe it takes much imagination to predict the outcome.”

The sickly look among those watching and listening was enough to tell her that she had gotten the message through.

“So we have a choice,” she said. “We can hide here . . . we could try to run. Merlin is willing to transport us elsewhere.”

“Demons are everywhere, Simone,” Caleb said loudly, clearly. “If they’re going to bring more of their kind, or worse, then running would be a short escape, and you know it.”

She nodded somberly. “I know . . . but we’ve lost so much already.”

“If we run now, we lose the last things we have,” Caleb told her. “We lose what little respect we have and our right to call ourselves freemen . . . and when it’s all said and done, they’ll still catch us and kill us.”

Simone could almost have hugged the boy. Though he was arguing with her in some ways, he was also playing directly into her intent. The crowd was following him, and Simone could feel that the young man had them on his side of the argument. It wasn’t how she planned it, but she’d take advantage of it.

“Then we have our third option,” she said. “Merlin cannot provide us much, but he has said he will give us what he can if we want to make a stand. This isn’t a decision for me to make . . .”

“I’ll make the decision,” Caleb interrupted her, “for myself and no one else. If I have to go alone, I will. This is my home now. I’m not running again.”

Several others called out their agreement, such that Simone could see the shift from fear in the crowd. She immediately moved to capitalize on it with her own statement, taking advantage of the opportunity Caleb had just presented her.

“You’ll not stand alone, Caleb,” she said with as serious and confident a tone as she could, masking both fear for, and pride of, the young man she had raised when her two best friends left him behind, one more orphan to demonic evils. “Atlantis is my home now as well.”

That was enough to turn the tide.

The fear remained, but it was drowned by the surge of anger and enthusiasm that followed.

Simone looked over the assembly with satisfaction and trepidation.

The fledgling city of Atlantis was about to go to war.

Chapter 10

Jol looked between the brothers and the girl who’d bounced him around the alley like he was some Ninth Circle filth choking on his own rotting flesh, uncertain quite what he should be thinking. The fact that she was human both assuaged and stoked his injured pride in confusing ways.

Once they’d stopped fighting, the brothers had decided it would be wiser to get the hells out of the open in order to talk. He understood once he saw the damage the fight had caused to the nearby building. It would be a miracle if the structure wasn’t eventually brought down by that smoking hole, though it might be years before that happened. There was unlikely to be anyone who would be able to fix it correctly. Similar things had happened before, so he was well aware of that little truth of living in the demon city.

She will probably order the building destroyed to keep it from coming down in some unexpected way, he assumed.

In any case, that entire area would soon be swarming with midlevel demons from the Fourth and Fifth Circles, perhaps even a low-ranking Third or so, all looking for the cause of that damage. Ser’Goth was the hells, no pun intended, on those who used excessive powers within the city . . . and blowing a massive gaping maw in the side of a building in the most packed sector of the city certainly would count as excessive. The only reason it wasn’t already filled with demons was due to the sheer incompetence and disorganized nature of the Circles.

They were hell on armies and the very devils in a fight, but neither of the brothers had ever met a demon less than fifth circle that showed more than a modicum of discipline, and for that that did… well, corralling cats would be child’s play compared to doing more than merely pointing demons in a general direction and hoping they didn’t get too lost.

“We’re safe for now,” Brokkr said, shifting painfully as he sat down in the apartment the brothers had chosen to use for the time being. “Why don’t you tell us how you know Kaern? Last I heard, the Wanderer had bowed out of human affairs a long time past.”

The girl—Elan she had called herself—looked away before she answered, eyes growing unfocused as she remembered something that mattered to her.

“He saved my life,” she said finally. “I called for help in the dreaming, and he came.”

Sindri, still altogether too amused by the whole situation, made an impressed sound.

“You’re a dreamer? Not too many of you humans ever bothered to learn that,” he said. “Too impressed with your own technical wizardry to master the arcane. One of the things that lost you the war, albeit one of the smaller factors. So how is Kaern, then?”

“Dead.”

The answer was delivered in a monotone, with only undercurrents to hint that the question meant more than expected from the girl. Jol looked at her more intently and saw the flash of pain in eyes that tried to mount a stony appearance.

“That old bastard? Doesn’t seem likely,” Sindri said with a skeptical chuckle. “How’d he go out?”

“The wave got him when he held off the demons chasing us,” she said quietly, catching Jol’s attention.

“The wave?” he asked sharply. “The one that wiped out the lord’s forces?”

“I suppose.” She shrugged. “There were a lot of demons chasing us, but I never stopped to ask their names.”

That once again cracked Sindri up, leaving him roaring while Brokkr and Jol glared at him.

“The report said that wave was a monster, hundreds of feet high,” Brokkr said, shrugging. “If anything could take out the Wanderer, I suppose that might do it. Still . . . that bastard has been kicking around longer than you could imagine, girl. He’s had more names than I can remember and escaped certain doom enough times that when death finally does come for him, you can bet the dark specter will be bringing reinforcements.”

“There’s truth in that,” Sindri agreed, “but I’m more interested in how you escaped something that could take out that old forner. I thought the report said there were no survivors for hundreds of miles. If you were close enough to see Kaern die, no way a human could have outrun something like that. I know; I’ve seen them try.”

Elan hesitated, eyes darting between them as she wondered how to answer that.

“Let me save you some trouble, girl,” Brokkr told her. “That armor and, most especially, that weapon of yours . . . those are not things you just happened to find. Someone had to gift them to you, someone with security clearance to the highest levels of the Republic’s military services. The armor alone wouldn’t have saved you from a wave like that, however, so I’ll assume there was a transport station nearby?”

The flash in her eyes was obvious enough that even Jol was able to read it, which meant that the other two had no problem at all.

“Told you those old tech wizards built to last,” Sindri said, grinning wide as he had been all along. “Since she’s here, I’m sure you can follow that trail to the logical conclusion, brother.”

Brokkr nodded. “The command center below Lemuria is still active. I assumed it was destroyed, figured that the commander likely ordered it scuttled. Must have just shut it down and hoped it was overlooked. Bloody disgusting that a plan that stupid worked, it is.”

“The demons in charge here never cared, brother—you know that. As long as the humans weren’t using it to run resistance missions any longer, most demons couldn’t be bothered to even think about it.” Sindri shrugged. “The few that might had other concerns at the time.”

“True enough.” Brokkr sighed. “Still hurts my sense of professionalism.”

“What professionalism?” Sindri elbowed his brother, laughing. “Of course, that still leaves one more question.”

“I’m not answering any more questions,” Elan grumbled, more than a little petulantly, though Jol didn’t blame her.

He knew too well how perceptive the brothers could be and how frustrating it was trying to keep anything from them. They could read a face and body like an educated man might read a book.

“Not too many it could have been,” Brokkr said thoughtfully. “All the humans with that clearance would be long dead, even with their medicine and enhanced life serum. Only leaves the intelligences. Those elementals are the very devil itself to kill, as you well know.”

“Aye, there’s truth in that,” Sindri agreed. “So which do you suppose? One of the lesser ones? Enlil, perhaps, might have been able to scrounge what we’re seeing.”

“More likely Ninu,” Brokkr said. “At least he might have a weapons cache.”

“No, Ninu was eliminated, remember? Took himself out, along with three whole demon legions, plus their lords. It was one of the last orbital strikes of the war,” Sindri said with a shake of his head. “All the combat elementals went down hard, but they went down.”

“Ah, right. That was a lovely explosion,” Brokkr said, reminiscing.

Sindri looked the nervous girl over, eyes lingering on her armor and weapon.

“The number of elementals that could have coded her for that armor alone are remarkably low,” Sindri mused.

“It’s my grandmother’s,” Elan blurted, eyes a little wide.

“Is it now?” Sindri asked, looking her over. “Yes, it is. Interesting. Well, that would sidestep the coding problem . . . but you wouldn’t have jumped to offer that information if we weren’t getting close, now would you?”

“What was the command intelligence here?” Brokkr asked, frowning. “I can’t recall. Was it an elemental?”

“Doesn’t matter. Either moved on or was wiped when the systems were shut down,” Sindri said. “Would have been found long ago if it were active.”

“True enough.”

Elan had apparently had enough, Jol noted as he watched her speak up and try to redirect the conversation.

“You said something about the elder,” she said forcefully. “What are the elder?”

The two brothers looked at one another, smiling in amusement.

“Blunt girl, there’s not a lot of subtlety in you, that’s for sure,” Brokkr told her.

Sindri decided to take pity on her, though for how long that would last, Jol wouldn’t take bets on.

“The elder are bad news—worse than demons in their own way,” he said. “Just looking on them in some cases is enough to break the minds of mortals like yourself. I expected you arriving here had something to do with them, given the actions of Her Ladyship. It’s a hell of a coincidence, you being here and not even knowing about them.”

“Maybe not,” Elan said grimly. “I was in the dreaming when I was approached by . . . something . . .”

Brokkr sat up straight, eyes sharp as he focused more on her.

“You’re not playing in the overmind, are ye?” he demanded. “There are dangers there—”

“No.” She cut him off with a gesture. “Kaern taught me that much. No, this . . . whatever it was came to me in my dreaming.”

“Rare. Powerful and rare,” Brokkr said thoughtfully. “Demons that could do that would see you dead. What was it?”

“I don’t know. It didn’t look like any demon I’ve ever seen,” she admitted. “At first it . . . I don’t know, it took a human form after, but there was always something odd about it. Like I was seeing something that shouldn’t be there, unnatural.”

“That doesn’t narrow it down by a lot,” Sindri sighed. “You said ‘at first.’ What did it look like then?”

“Like . . .” She grimaced. “Circles within circles, and angles like . . .”

“Like things that can’t exist in nature?” Sindri finished. “One of the Nim came to you in a dream? Now, of all times?”

“The . . . Nim?” she asked, hesitant but her curiosity undeniable.

“Servants of . . .” Brokkr hesitated. “Call it . . . God. The Creator. The sworn enemy of the circles . . .”

“Don’t get any ideas, either of you,” Sindri snapped, noting both Elan and Jol sitting up a little straighter at that. “The enemy of your enemy is not always your ally. In many real ways, there’s little enough difference between the two sides. The Nim are cleaner but no less ruthless if you’re in their way. The Creator . . . withdrew a long time ago. Else this war would have been over before it started. Not even the elder and all the origins combined could have stood against his will.”

“More important,” Brokkr cut in, waving off that bit of ancient history with an almost tangible annoyance, “what did the Nim tell you?”

“That the future was uncertain,” she answered. “That it had been set for a long time . . . but something changed. Now no one seems able to see what is going to happen, not even . . .”

She shut her mouth with an audible click, something the two brothers noticed, of course.

“Not even . . .?” Sindri trailed off. “Someone you know looked?”

He froze, eyes darting over to Brokkr, who whistled in stunned shock.

“Well, that would explain the equipment, now, wouldn’t it?” Brokkr said, a deep appreciation in his tone. “You’ve been to Avalon.”

Sindri laughed sharply. “I had believed Avalon destroyed . . . but that would explain the wave too. Well now, that changes things, doesn’t it?”

“It does?” Jol asked, confused.

“If she’s been to Avalon, then her story checks out.” Sindri nodded. “He could have dropped a rock or blown up an island or something else easily enough to create that wave. So it wasn’t an accident . . . makes the story fit better.”

“Who?” Jol asked. “Who are you talking about?”

“Not here.” Sindri shook his head. “Some names shouldn’t even be whispered in this city, and his would top the list.”

Jol nodded, understanding.

It would be a bit much to say that someone was always listening in the city of Lemuria, but at the same time, he was well aware that there were words of power that would always attract notice.

Notice was invariably a bad thing in the demon city.

*****

Ser’Goth was not quite enraged, but she was well on the road to be.

“Which abysmally stupid fool,” she spat the words, “was responsible for this, now of all times?”

“We don’t know, my lady,” the chamberlain of the city said, bowing as low as he possibly could in hopes of assuaging her ire.

She glowered at him for a moment before looking back at the smoking hole someone had blown clear through one side of a local building.

Normally she would be annoyed that someone was putting holes in her city. It was her city, after all, and anyone who felt like they had the right to be popping off damaging attacks was showing her disrespect. At the moment, however, in this time and this place, she was well past annoyance.

The incident had happened dangerously close to where the rune-master was working to create the elder summoning circle. So close, in fact, that the building could potentially damage that selfsame circle if it happened to topple in the wrong direction, unlikely though it might be. That someone had been this reckless was not mere disrespect; it was treason.

“Find them,” she growled. “Whoever did this will pray for execution. I will not have this happening so close to final victory.”

“I will put your very best trackers on it, my lady,” the chamberlain assured her.

“Do so,” she ordered, “and ensure that they know my will on this. I want the perpetrators alive, as an example to others.”

The chamberlain shuddered but nodded.

Her Lady’s punishments were among the reasons she had been granted her post. They were the stuff of horror and legend, and he almost pitied whoever was foolish enough to have drawn out her ire. She was bad enough to those she liked, delivering humiliation and torture simply as part of her nature. To those whom she had cause to dislike . . . well, that merely allowed her to get creative.

In the end, it was better that fate befall literally anyone other than the chamberlain, in his own opinion at least.

“I will see to it personally,” he promised. “I’ll bring reports as soon as we have any further information.”

Ser’Goth flicked her tongue in annoyance, the narrow appendage appearing from her mouth briefly before coiling back up and disappearing. With a last look cast at the destruction, she turned on her heel and stalked away angrily.

The chamberlain watched her go and was glad that he had reason not to be within the central tower for some time. He turned to the attendants that were cowering behind him still, annoyed at them entirely because he rather wished that he had someone to hide behind himself at such times.

“Go, find Gose and the Wolf,” he ordered. “Tell them I will see them here within the hour, or they will not enjoy the consequences when I locate them.”

The attendants nodded and ran off, clearly grateful to be gone.

The chamberlain looked up at the still-smoking hole and briefly wondered what sort of spell had done the damage. He knew of none that could have managed this . . . but then, fighting was never his speciality.

Still, curiosity was a terrible thing to leave unserved.

“And tell . . .” He considered, briefly thinking about who to call. “Tell Krovak to come as well. I’ll see him personally when he arrives.”

Wide eyes greeted that, but he ignored them pointedly until they too ran off.

The old arms master would know what had done that damage if anyone did. He’d seen more fighting than any ten demons . . . and that might be doing the old demon a disservice in these days. Real fighting was well in the past for most. Now, so many seemed to spend their time tearing one another apart rather than doing their proper duties.

The change was a hazard when there was no enemy to point the changed at.

*****

“You came a long way to a dangerous place, given how little you have and how unprepared you are,” Sindri scoffed as Elan finished explaining why she’d come to Lemuria.

“I had to come,” she defended herself, a hint of fire flickering in her eyes. “I couldn’t ignore it.”

“No, I suppose you couldn’t,” Sindri agreed tiredly. “The hells of it, pardon the pun, is that I even see the inevitability of your decision. If I didn’t know the Creator gave humans free will, I would wonder if you weren’t being puppeted about by one of the Nim, playing you for their own purpose.”

“Isn’t that something those arrogant forners would do?” Brokkr asked, amused. “Still, my brother has a point. You may be here by your own decision, but something is pushing you around.”

Elan grimaced. “Kaern said I had the . . . stink of prophecy on me.”

Brokkr laughed for possibly the first time that afternoon, or the first time since he’d been kicked in the privates at least.

“That bastard always had a way with words,” he said. “Kaern was never the sort to truck with prophecy. Not after the first few times he got too close. So I’m surprised he hung around anywhere near you if he believed that. The old forner must have gone soft since the last time we saw him.”

“He taught me a lot in a short time,” Elan said, “and saved me more than once.”

“Aye,” Brokkr said soberly, “he always was a teacher, above all else. A more dangerous sort you’d be hard-pressed to find, but I think he never wanted anything more than some students to show how to take on the world. What was that saying he used to repeat, brother?”

Sindri thought a moment, then answered, “Anyone can kill; there’s no strength in death. Defending the weak is a temporary measure, not an act of strength. If you want to show true strength, don’t protect the weak . . . instead, take the weak and make them strong.”

“Aye, that’s it,” Brokkr said, looking Elan over. “So . . . tell me, girl. Did he make you strong?”

Elan shifted nervously. “I . . . I don’t know. He tried, I think . . . but I wasn’t really ready to listen.”

“A common failing of youth,” Brokkr told her, “but a better answer than I expected. You don’t consider yourself strong? You held us off and flattened dear Jol over there twice.”

Jol flushed, a really bad color for someone of his complexion, but didn’t rise to what he recognized as bait being put out by Brokkr.

Elan, surprisingly, didn’t get either defensive or smug about it either.

“I’m skilled,” she said, “compared to others, but my strength isn’t my own.”

Brokkr nodded slowly. “Very good answer. Most people would claim the strength of their tools as their own, humans especially. It was, perhaps, their single key failing during the war.”

“Kaern told me that.” She nodded. “He said that I shouldn’t rely entirely on tools.”

“Sounds like him, though I never entirely agreed personally,” Brokkr confirmed, eying her for a moment. “I can see why he took time with you. There’s potential there. Greatness could be yours if you live long enough to claim it.”

“I don’t care about greatness,” she said with an intensity that burned deep in her. “I just want to kill the demons.”

Silence followed that proclamation, right up until Sindri burst out laughing.

“I can imagine how well that went over with Kaern,” he said when he got control of his amusement. “That sort of hate will lead you to a bad end, girl.”

“I don’t care. They took everything from me,” Elan said heatedly. “I’ll see it all torn from them in turn.”

“You can’t take anything from most demons that others of their kind haven’t already stolen,” Brokkr said softly. “Even those who believe themselves to be powerful have been humbled and beggared beyond belief by the change.”

Elan just folded her arms up, looking every bit the petulant teenager that the two brothers now recognized her to be. They’d seen the same thing hundreds of times over the years. Jol had used that same look on them more than a few times until they’d beaten it out of him. Whether they’d bother with her was yet to be seen, but the two didn’t have to speak to know that they were each considering it.

Like Kaern must have, they could see the potential.

Potential they had seen in Jolinr when he was younger. That fiery pride and determination that refused to be cowed, even when faced with obvious and overwhelming odds. It was a human affectation, rooted in the complete ignorance of just how stacked those odds usually were.

For those like the brothers, who were of the longer-lived variety, it was . . . cute. Adorable even.

Sometimes it was impossible to resist having that sort of lovable innocence around, no matter how many times they befouled the proverbial carpet.

Sindri made the decision, looking the girl over one last time.

“Show us what you’ve learned.”

Elan started, looking at him in confusion.

“What? Why?”

“So we know what you need to learn, of course,” he said with flat amusement, which only grew as Elan’s eyes widened and she looked at him with distrust but also a gleam he recognized.

Desire, curiosity . . . ambition.

*****

The chamberlain wasn’t surprised when Krovak was the first to arrive.

The grizzled old warrior had served at Her Ladyship’s pleasure for a long time, and he was an advanced enough Seventh Circle demon to be both moderately powerful and experienced enough to take his position seriously. He was a tall, broadly built sort, with rough armored skin that was variegated patches of brown and black. Bloodred eyes were the only real sign left of the change in him.

“Why did you summon me?” Krovak grumbled, eyeing the damage with a steady eye.

“I’m sure you can guess,” the chamberlain said dryly, casting a gesture about them. “I do not recognize the spell that caused this. Her Lady would like the perpetrator hunted down and brought to her . . . intact.”

“Wasn’t a spell,” Krovak grunted, “so I suppose I can’t blame you for not recognizing it. You wouldn’t, not unless you’d been in the field during the last years of the war.”

“The war?” the chamberlain repeated, surprised as he twisted to look around himself. “Surely not. You think a human did this?”

“One of their weapons, at least,” the grizzled armsman grunted as he stepped to the edge of the damage and knelt down. “The real weapons they used, not the toys they were carrying when the war first began in earnest. This was done by what they used when they stopped playing games and started killing us in droves.”

The chamberlain hesitated, unwilling at first to believe the pronouncement. It seemed ridiculous on the surface of it. There hadn’t been any real human resistance in the city for longer than he could remember. Certainly none with the war weapons of the human armies.

By the circles, there haven’t been any of those anywhere for as far back as I can remember.

“You must be mistaken,” he said finally. “Surely there are spells that can mirror the effects?”

“Of course,” Krovak said, climbing to his feet. “I can think of half a dozen easily. None of which are in use by any of our forces, and believe me, we would be aware if those who did use them were within the city . . . or on this planet. More importantly, however, is the directional impact of the blast.”

He nodded, pointing to how the debris and circular blast radius of the damage were slightly elongated.

“See this? How the blast trail stretches here?”

“Yes . . . so?”

“So magic doesn’t do that,” Krovak said simply. “Combat magic would have materialized the impact here, and the destruction would be perfectly spherical. No, this was done by a human pellet caster.”

“Pellet caster?” the chamberlain repeated, his lips curling up slightly at the undignified name.

“That’s what we called them,” Krovak shrugged, “or just casters for short. Humans had a whole long name for them and a short nickname of their own, I guess. Nasty little pieces of work; take my word for it. One of the few hand weapons humans had that could kill pretty much any of us without issue. Forget iron or silver, these would tear anything they hit apart. Healing from a hit was pretty much impossible, except maybe some of the upper knobs, I would suppose.”

“So someone has happened on human weapons, then,” the chamberlain sighed.

Krovak laughed, a sound that left a sinking sensation in the chamberlain’s guts. He just knew that laugh boded him no good.

“Not likely,” the old warrior said with a shake. “Humans locked those weapons. Even other humans couldn’t use them, not unless permission was granted. You have a human warrior running around the city, Chamberlain. An authorized human warrior, which is something I haven’t seen in over a century.”

“That’s not possible. Where would one even come from, to say nothing of where they would acquire weapons and authorization in this day?” the chamberlain protested.

“That I do not know,” Krovak smiled nastily, “but it should be amusing to . . . find out. You have trackers coming?”

The chamberlain nodded, a sour look on his face. “They should have arrived before you.”

The old warrior smirked. “I’ll get them. Leave this to me. You can tell Her Lady that I’ll find this person and either deal with them or, if I can’t, call for more forces. It should be fun.”

The chamberlain had a bad feeling that the definition of fun would become something he deeply regretted finding out in the very near future.

Chapter 11

The discharge of the sidearm startled Merlin as the warning came over his system. He immediately shifted focus to see what had precipitated the firing of the weapon and was very concerned by what he saw.

That girl is utterly incapable of not getting herself into trouble, he groused to himself as he watched the situation play out, electing to avoid distracting her from the fight, as there was nothing much he could add to it.

The outcome had surprised him, but a quick brief of her actions before explained a fair bit of it. Somehow the girl had located an unchanged human she wanted more information about. A glance at the nicely formed male specimen left him with little doubt as to at least part of her reasoning there.

Caleb may have some competition, he thought, amused.

Since the human and his two less-than-human allies appeared nonhostile, Merlin returned his focus to closer things while keeping only basic alerts active on Elan’s armor and kit.

The developments closer to Atlantis were more urgent than whatever Elan was up to at the moment, though he would make a point of monitoring to see what of use, if anything, she learned about the elder.

That name alone does not bode well for our future here, Merlin thought grimly.

Not that anything that had transpired in the past few centuries had boded well for the future, so perhaps the elder were simply more of the same. Something told him that was wishful thinking, so he would treat the situation as critical until he learned otherwise.

Simone and, perhaps surprisingly, Caleb had rallied the inhabitants of Atlantis to the cause. It was probably easier than it would be for most; those two carried a lot of weight with the survivors of their former city, and those who had survived where others fell were like as not to be made of sterner stuff. Still, it left him with a problem of logistics to solve.

Avalon had no military, or even civilian, transport beyond the point-to-point teleportation centers. Those would not be of much use in this case, since the closest to the demons actually was the Atlantis depot. That meant that they would need to construct boats to traverse the small sea distances between the islands in the chain.

Merlin didn’t suppose anything much could go wrong with that idea . . .

As if I’d be so foolish, he thought, darkly amused by the notion.

Still, he had files on some basic construction that the locals should be able to manage. They had been a seaside community, so some of them must have appropriate skills for the task at hand.

Famous last thoughts, though I hope otherwise.

*****

Building boats was not such a hard task, but it was one that required intensive labor all the same.

Simone was grateful for the help of Merlin’s little machines, the slightly creepy nature of the mobile tools aside. They had sped up the process considerably, gathering materials and doing much of the preparation for the few people they had with fishing and boat construction skills.

Wood was plentiful around Atlantis, which made things vastly simpler compared to the old city. For a long time they had been reliant on whatever the sea would wash up. The only growth within range of the city then had been scrub and not worth the effort to gather it . . . barely even if you only needed material for a fire.

With the support of Merlin, they had some of the finest planks to work with Simone or any of them had ever seen. That made assembling a few small boats a relatively simple matter, sealing them with waxy sap gathered from another type of tree after they’d been carefully joined.

It would be a day or two, even with Merlin’s support, before they could set out . . . but that was good time, and Simone hoped, it might even be on time. If not . . . well, then they would roll with what happened as best they could. For now, Simone was forced to content herself by watching Caleb as the boy—no, the young man—continued to grow into his own.

After the fight to escape the demons, those who survived had looked on Elan with awe . . . awe that Simone could understand. The tools Merlin had provided the child were nothing short of magic to her eyes, and Elan had wielded them well.

Caleb, however, had the respect of the survivors in a way that was so very different from, yet oddly equal to, the awe the girl was awarded.

She couldn’t have been prouder of the boy if he’d been her blood from birth.

Now that he was stepping into authority, she willingly and cheerfully stepped back enough to give him room to grow.

So far, he was growing straight and true.

So while she watched from a distance, Simone focused instead on the information and tools that Merlin had sent along to help her with the coming fight.

Unfortunately, he couldn’t provide them with an entire army’s worth of the tools he had gifted to Elan. She didn’t understand the reasoning. When he tried to explain it, Simone found that the words just left her whirling and completely dumbfounded. It was not a feeling she enjoyed experiencing, but it was one that she was becoming more and more familiar with since she had been introduced to the existence of Avalon and the pest known as Merlin.

And pest the being was. Simone was positively certain that he took a sadistic satisfaction in confusing her. She’d seen that gleam in the eyes of too many in the past. If she were honest, it was a gleam that had quite often beamed from her own eyes while training Caleb.

It was not enjoyable being on the receiving end.

*****

Caleb wiped sweat from his brow as he finished hammering the flexed plank into place, fitting the notches in the wood into one another and delivering a swift smack with a wooden mallet. Two others held the wood in place, while a third hurriedly ran along the fittings to make sure they were all properly sealed, with no cracks too deep to fill.

Once that was done, it was onto the next, and then the next after that. It was trudging, dirty, wearying work, but he marveled at the results as they put the final lynchpin into place and the form was laid out, apparent to any who looked.

It was a fine boat compared to those he’d seen before. Smooth and long, with a deep V-shape. He was told they would make another to attach to it, to make the whole thing more stable in the waves. He was looking forward to experiencing the water, as it was something that he had never had a chance to before.

“Caleb!”

He started, looking up as he continued to hold the wood in place.

It was one of the younger girls who had volunteered to be a runner for messages, and she was waving to him with excitement.

“What is it, Val?” he asked without moving.

“Simone sent me to get you, said something is here from . . .” Her eyes were wide as she looked around, almost whispering her next words. “You know, him!”

“Go on, lad.” The man in charge nodded, stepping into his place. “We have it from here. You’ve more important things to do.”

Caleb reluctantly let go but nodded in agreement. “Okay, thanks.”

“You did well here.” The man smiled crookedly at him. “If you have time, come on back. Can always use a good hand.”

“I will, thank you.”

He clapped his hands clear of dirt, wincing as he irritated a small blister, but ignored the pain as he stepped up off the beach.

“Okay,” he told the girl, “you run on ahead and let Simone know I’m coming.”

“Okay!” she said brightly, running off in the direction she’d come from.

He followed at a slower pace, thinking that it hadn’t been so long ago that he would have run just as quickly. Now, however, he felt like he’d been on the run for days. His body ached in places he didn’t know he had, and all he could think was how nice it was to walk and enjoy the relaxing motion.

Simone was waiting for him when he arrived just a few minutes later, watching him expectantly with an expression that would have had him hopping to and hurrying to get to her in the past . . . but now, he just waved a greeting and continued to walk at a relaxed pace until he got to her.

“You called?” he asked as he arrived.

“I did,” she said dryly, but made no mention of his pace. “Merlin sent some gear that you might find useful.”

Caleb looked over the pile she had gestured to, his eyes widening as he recognized the suit resting there. It was clearly the same as Elan had been wearing since that day they’d met the old coot, which was really the only word for him that fit Caleb’s opinion of the intelligence.

“I didn’t think I could wear one,” he admitted, quietly surprised.

“Merlin said that Elan ordered him to prepare this suit for you,” Simone said softly. “Apparently it’s not easy to do, and he doesn’t have many to begin with . . . but I can’t think of anyone who deserves it more.”

“You should have one,” Caleb countered. “You’re one of the most skilled fighters we have . . .”

“I’m more experienced,” she nodded, “but your skill is close to mine. There’s little more I could teach you, Caleb. What you’re missing now is just the experience to know when, and how, to properly use the tools I’ve gifted you.”

Caleb let out a long breath, running his hand over the slick, patterned surface of the armor.

“We’ll need this,” he said, “won’t we?”

“This and more.” Simone nodded. “So go put it on, get used to it. Try not to kill yourself or, you know, anyone else in the process.”

He glared at her, but the grin on her face took any sting out of her words. Finally, Caleb rolled his eyes and grabbed up the armor.

“Okay, I’ll be back in a bit.”

“Look forward to it.” She winked. “I’m sure you’ll look handsome in it.”

Flushing hotly, Caleb retreated to the laughter that pealed from Simone’s throat, running for cover in a way that no demon had ever forced him to.

*****

Merlin diverted his attention slightly when the second suit of armor activated, linking into his network. He looked out through the feed for a few splits of a second, waiting for the boy to finish sealing everything up before he spoke.

“Boy.”

“Merlin?” Caleb blurted. “Is that you?”

“And pray tell, who else would it be?” Merlin asked with the mental equivalent of rolling his eyes. “I see you’ve fitted the armor . . . adequately, if not proficiently. I presume you will be training, at least to some degree, before attempting to use it in battle?”

“Yeah, yeah,” Caleb said. “I remember Elan. I’m not going to try swinging a blade around anyone I don’t want dead while I’m wearing this . . . not yet anyway.”

“A surprisingly astute evaluation of your skills,” Merlin told him dryly. “I will lower the effective response, speed, and strength of the armor until you begin to get used to it.”

“You can do that?” Caleb asked him, surprised. “Why didn’t you for Elan?”

“Because she learned to use hers in mortal combat against a demonic invasion force that outnumbered her and you by several hundred to one,” Merlin answered dryly. “Handicapping her seemed . . . counterproductive.”

“Ah, right,” Caleb answered, embarrassed over missing the obvious.

“Take your time and try not to injure yourself or anyone else,” Merlin advised the boy, pausing for a moment before continuing. “Good luck.”

“Thanks,” Caleb said, surprised. “I . . . I will. Um, Merlin?”

“What is it?”

“What about . . . well, a sword like Elan’s?”

Merlin snorted. “I think not. It’s quite bad enough that I’ve passed two of those on to her. I assure you, I would not have, had the situation not been so dire at the time. Late-issue sidearms are not toys, nor even tactical weapons in the strictest sense. I am aware that you have no comprehension of this, but those are what would better be classified as strategic weapons, and even during the height of the human Republic, they were not issued to even the best trained of soldiers. I will find what tactical weapons I can, but use your own blade to start. It will be better not to add more new and confusing items to your training than we must.”

“Okay,” Caleb said, understanding maybe half of what Merlin had said but getting the important part.

He flexed his arm, surprised by how the suit seemed to move him rather than him being pulled along by his flesh and bone. It was an odd sensation, one he wasn’t sure he would be getting used to very easily, but Caleb was determined to try.

*****

The overseer, Telkrak, was a Fifth Circle demon, his current assignment being his reward for sins past.

Ostensibly it was a promotion, but for him . . . he knew better.

Since they had arrived on this circles-damned pit of an island, nothing had gone right. They’d lost a third of their slaves since making landfall and even more of their demonic fodder. He was half-certain at this point that the detestably green place was cursed.

The snakes, insects, even the animals in the sea seemed to have a taste for his crews.

Tel hadn’t even been aware that there were snakes on this world that had venom that could kill a demon.

He shuddered. That wasn’t an image he would be able to lose from his mind anytime in the near future. Necrotizing toxins were normally ineffectual on the already necrotized flesh of a demon, even less so against the sturdier sort that survived to the lower circles. To see some of his crew screaming in horror and pain as their flesh boiled away in some be-damned chemical reaction from the pits themselves was the worst thing he’d ever seen . . . and he had seen a lot.

For all that, he was proud to see that they were on schedule, as had been set out by his lord.

To complete the job would take many more lives, of that there was no doubt, but he would see it done.

The standing stones the job was built around were massive megaliths.

They’d been carved by hand, hundreds of miles from where they now sat, and transported at great pains to get them to this forsaken island. The green around him still made him physically ill, but there was a lot less of it than when they’d arrived, and before he finished his assignment here, he would ensure that there was less again.

The last of the great stones had just been set into place, and everyone quietly ignored the red and black stains that coated one side of it where it had toppled previously. It was a major moment, though only halfway through the real job.

He shivered as the rune-master was carried in to finish the work already begun.

Initial carving had been done as the stones were cut from the earth they had come from, but the final work had to be done here in place.

The scrawny demon stepped down from the covered carriage, the grass underfoot turning from green to brown and then black, crackling as it crunched to dust with each step of the unnatural passing.

Tel refused to do more than shiver and held his position as the rune-master approached and came to a stop by his side.

Silence reigned for a long, drawn-out moment, and then the rune-master spoke in his dry, rasping voice.

“You have done well,” he said. “The stones are in place as needed . . . and I see they’ve been baptized in blood and ichor. You are to be congratulated.”

Tel shuddered but inclined his head. “Thank you, Master of Runes,” he said. “I hope all is to your needs.”

“If it is not, I will inform you. For now,” the rasping voice went on, “this task falls to me.”

The frail-looking demon walked away from him, and Tel stonily watched him go as the feeling of an unnatural cold, even for demons, went with him.

*****

Merlin glowered darkly at the imagery from the probes.

He wished, not for the first time, that his information on the so-called runic masters was more than merely circumstantial in nature. Direct contact with that particular group of the invaders had been rare and generally went very badly for the human side of things. The only thing he knew for certain was that leaving them any time to prepare was suicidal if they had the slightest thought of an attack being launched.

With that in mind, Merlin carefully drew back the closest probes, keeping them as far away from detection as possible.

There was no way the locals would be able to face a prepared demonic force coupled with a runic engraver providing support, not if the engraver had any warning at all. He would not send the only humans he now had contact with to their deaths for no reason, nor would he permit himself to be responsible for those deaths through sheer foolishness.

Once the withdrawal was complete, Merlin shifted focus back to Lemuria.

Elan’s presence in the city, and her reactivating the old security systems within the command and control bunker buried deeply beneath it, had provided him with a flood of data on the demons that he’d not had access to previously, and he was learning quite a bit from just that.

Culturally the demons were incredibly ignorant.

It was like watching barbarians of the lowest order trample some of the highest art and architecture in history. No, it wasn’t like that at all . . . it was that. Watching it happen was absolutely infuriating.

That alone made him seriously consider calling Elan back to the bunker and showing her how to set the primary reactor to a nice overload status. Only the fact that it would do no good held him back from that course. There were too many demons in too many places for even the loss of such a population as now existed on Lemuria to have much effect.

Better to continue gathering information.

Idly almost, Merlin used the suit’s scanners to closely observe the two short men who were conversing with Elan.

Unlike the taller redheaded man, they were clearly not human. Their scans, in fact, confirmed Elan’s earlier intuition, matching the scans he had of the one called Kaern almost perfectly. The only differences appeared to be the normal variance one might find from individual to individual, including differences in height. He made a note to acquire blood or tissue samples if the opportunity came up, as it would be fascinating to run a comparison of their genetic structure with that of a normal human.

Merlin wondered if the markers for height, as an example, would be located in the same places.

Ah, for the day when intellectual curiosity was the driving force of my days.

Another bit of data slipped through to his attention, and Merlin shifted focus to what might provide some amusement for a short period.

Can’t be worried about the end of the world all the time, I suppose.

*****

Caleb slammed into the stone wall as he misjudged a motion, grunting as dust from broken stone puffed out around him.

“Damn,” he groaned, moving extra slowly as he picked himself up. “How did Elan do this without killing everyone around her just by running into them?”

He doggedly stood back up, only hopping a little when he snapped his knees straight, landing hard and straight-legged. Pain lanced up through his knees in response, leaving him clenching his jaw.

“Right, right, bend the legs, got it . . . ow.”

He tried to rub his knees but found quickly that it didn’t do much good with the bulk of the force being blunted by the armor.

“Damn it,” he grumbled as he straightened up and started limping around to walk the pain off.

“You’re thinking too hard about it.” Merlin’s voice startled him, sending Caleb several feet into the air as his small jerk of motion translated into a jump of significant proportions that ended with him sprawled out on his back. An illusionary form of the old man leaned idly over him with an amused air about him.

“Not. Funny,” Caleb ground out from his back.

“I would agree to disagree,” Merlin said casually. “However, in deference to your posit, instead I will simply save a recording of this and present it to Elan and Simone and ask for their opinion on the matter.”

Caleb’s eyes went wide. “Wait, you can do that?”

“I’m Merlin. I can do many wondrous things.”

“Many annoying things too, apparently,” Caleb countered, then blinked at the form. “Wait . . . how are you here? I thought you couldn’t project—or whatever it is you do—if we weren’t in the temples?”

Merlin rolled his eyes. “They aren’t temples, for the hundredth time or more, but to answer your question . . . I’m not there. You’re seeing me through the armor. No one else can see me at the moment.”

“Okay . . .” Caleb said slowly as he climbed, carefully, to his feet. “Elan never mentioned you could do that.”

“I don’t know that I’ve ever shown her,” Merlin said musingly, as if trying to recall. “Generally I just spoke to her, as she was mostly in combat when wearing the armor and I wouldn’t have wanted to distract her so that she, for example, sliced you in half.”

“Right, thanks for that,” Caleb admitted. Distracting Elan at the time would have been a bad idea. “What did you mean, I was thinking too hard?”

“The armor responds not only to how you move but also to your intent,” Merlin stressed. “So focus on what you intend to accomplish rather than what you’re actually doing.”

Caleb stared for a moment, blank-faced. “What? How?”

Merlin shrugged. “I don’t know how you would do that beyond what I’ve already told you. I’ve never had to wear that suit. That’s what others have said.”

Caleb just groaned for what felt like the millionth time.

Chapter 12

Krovak tossed the two trackers to the ground in front of him, having found them slacking off and taking their time to answer the chamberlain’s call. He knew that many had a tendency to regard any orders that didn’t come directly from the lips of Her Ladyship to be of less than urgent priority unless the person giving those orders was capable of directly enforcing them. He didn’t have patience for that shit.

“See the hole up there?” He nodded above them to where the gaping maw of damage could hardly have been missed by the blind, let alone two of the top trackers available. “I had a look. It was caused by something launched from right here.”

He pointed to the isolated section of the alley, hidden from the main thoroughfare, which explained the lack of any apparent witnesses. Frankly, he doubted they would have found any of those even if the shot had come from the middle of a crowd, but that was another issue.

“Gose,” he growled to the shorter of the two Eighth Circle trackers, “look for human sign . . . and Wolf? What kind of scents can you find here?”

The two trackers growled at him. Both were deep in the change and irritable at the best of times. Being dragged through the city by the backs of their necks wasn’t exactly a sign of the best of times, but Krovak couldn’t care less. He could take them both at the same time ten falls out of ten, and they knew it.

So he watched as they got to work.

It didn’t take long for Gose to spot tracks that fit the bill. That was one advantage of all the muck in the streets.

“Four sets here, Arms Master,” the hunched-over demon grunted. “Three look normal; one is . . . odd.”

“Odd how?”

Gose knelt down, feeling out the depth of the track with two twisted fingers.

“Heavier than should be,” he said finally. “Wearing armor maybe. Strange—too light for iron or steel. Too heavy for clothes.”

“That makes sense,” Krovak said, glancing over to where Wolf was sniffing around. “You got anything?”

The demon, who was practically on all fours, snarled back at him. “You try sniffing out a trail in this city. Everything smells like shit.”

That would be the downside of all the muck, Krovak nodded tiredly, unfortunately not surprised at all.

“Save your excuses for someone who cares,” he snapped back. “And next time you growl at me, you better plan on backing it up with action, or I’ll put those rotting teeth of yours down your throat. You follow?”

The demon glared at him but declined to growl as he finally looked away.

“Odd smell,” he said finally. “Like . . . life with no life.”

“Life with no life? What the hells does that mean?” Krovak asked with consternation.

“Hard to describe. Not death, not life . . . but like life. Smell of lightning in the air too,” Wolf grumbled. “Never scented anything like it.”

The lightning in the air Krovak understood. It wasn’t lightning; it was the after-trail of it. Humans called it ozone.

“Follow that smell if you can,” he said.

Wolf moved around a bit and then shook his head. “No. It’s just here. Lightning smell is linked to the life with no life smell.”

“Well, follow that then,” Krovak insisted, gesturing to Gose. “And you, the strange trail.”

“Where they came from, or where they went?”

“Went, idiot!” Krovak snarled. “What do I care of where they came from? I want them, alive!”

The two trackers cowered back, then immediately set off in the same direction.

At least that is a good sign, he thought as he set out to follow.

*****

“You’re not human, the two of you,” Elan said softly as she focused on what the brothers had set for her and the redhead, Jol, to do.

She wasn’t sure why the pair seemed interested in teaching her, but Elan was willing to learn almost anything, so she had made the decision to at least listen to them. She was aware of how little she knew and desperately wanted to change that. Every time she was faced with her ignorance, it burned in her. Yet all the same, she couldn’t help but question her would-be instructors’ motives.

Kaern would be proud, she suspected. He had been a suspicious bastard sometimes.

Jol paused in what he was doing, looking up sharply as the brothers stopped and looked at her.

“Was that supposed to be a question?” Sindri asked, an amused look on his face.

“No.” She shook her head. “I can see that. What I can’t see is . . . why?”

“Why what?” Brokkr grunted out.

“Why him?” She gestured to Jol. “You obviously looked after him. Taught him. Right?”

The trio exchanged glances.

“We did,” Sindri confirmed. “As to why . . . why not?”

“Demons don’t help.”

“Is that so?” Sindri sounded quite amused. “How about Kaern?”

Elan scowled. “Never figured him out either.”

“Well, let’s just say that there are demons, and then there are demons, and leave it at that, shall we?” Sindri said, smirking at her.

Elan’s scowl deepened. “That makes no sense!”

“You’re going to give yourself the wrong kind of wrinkles with looks like that, girl,” Sindri chuckled. “In the end, it’s simple. We’re not human, yes. In fact, we’re demons even . . . but we never went through the change, and we do not answer to the circles.”

Elan shook her head. “I don’t get you, and I don’t understand how that’s even possible.”

“What you do not understand, girl”—Brokkr spoke up from across the room—“can literally fill all eternity, with very little space remaining.”

Elan shot him an annoyed glare, but he blithely ignored her as he walked up beside her and tapped the back of her arm.

“Your form is atrocious,” he grumbled. “Someone taught you an absolutely horrible style for your body type, and your recent attempts to correct it have been . . . less than auspicious.”

Elan turned on him, eyes flashing. “I learned to fight from my father.”

“A large man, I presume? Muscled and powerful”—Brokkr nodded toward the redhead—“like Jol over there?”

Elan slumped. “Yes. How does everyone know that from my fighting style?”

“Because no sane teacher who knew better would have taught you a power style,” Sindri offered up. “You have the wrong body for it . . . though as long as you’re wearing that armor, I’m sure you could get by.”

Her eyes lit up at the mention of that. She hadn’t considered that the armor would allow her to use her father’s style, after all.

“I said get by.” Sindri instantly stepped on that light, spotting it for what it was. “If you want to excel, even in the armor, you should work to your own strengths and learn to compensate for your own weaknesses. Besides, remember what I said: One of the biggest weaknesses of humans has always been your love of those fabulous toys you create so well. No matter how wonderful the toy, it will fail you just when you need it most.”

“Kaern said the same,” Elan answered with a hint of disbelief. “Hasn’t happened yet, and I’ve needed it a lot of times.”

“Girl, the moment the armor fails will, by definition, be when you need it most,” Brokkr rumbled in her direction. “And it will fail. Everything does, sooner or later. Tools are good; skills are better; both are best.”

Elan sighed, taking a few breaths to calm herself.

It wasn’t anything new to her, of course. Kaern had said as much, and even Merlin, who had a great deal of faith in what he called science and technology, admitted that it was important not to be helpless without said tools. Simone didn’t even understand what the question was. To her, the idea of relying on tools entirely was ludicrous.

“Fine,” she grumbled.

She slipped back into the new stance she had been teaching herself since finding Avalon. As much as she was loath to admit it, she knew that her father’s style wasn’t for her. She hated that fact and refused to entirely give up her father’s teaching, no matter how obvious it was. It would be like giving up the memories of her mother or all the skills she had learned from her.

It was not going to happen.

Still, she could feel the difference when she used a style that was more suited to her body.

The book had shown her one that she was trying to master, so she slipped into that form and began to move smoothly through the motions. Elan didn’t notice the two brothers stop and stare as she did, their eyes widening with undisguised shock. She was almost through the second set of forms before Brokkr managed to get out a question.

“Girl,” he croaked, “Kaern taught you that?”

Elan paused, looking at him in confusion. “Kaern? No.”

“You didn’t learn that from a human,” Sindri said. “Your form is atrocious, but that style is unmistakable.”

“It . . . it’s a demon style?” she asked, dropping her arms and feeling her skin crawl. Is the book demonic?

The two shook their heads in unison.

“Not of the circles, at least. It is older than the demons,” Sindri said. “Where did ye learn it, girl?”

She narrowed her eyes at the short man . . . demon, whatever.

“Why should I tell you?”

Sindri got angry, but now it was Brokkr’s turn to laugh openly and attract the ire of his brother.

“This is serious!” Sindri snapped.

“She’s got a point, brother.” Brokkr laughed, amused by his brother’s reaction. “Why should she tell us anything? We’re not enemies, but neither are we allies or friends at this point.” He settled his amusement, looking at Elan sternly. “However, it is curious that you know even the rudiments of that style. It’s suited to you, by the way. Perfectly so, in fact, which speaks of a teacher who knows his stuff. If not Kaern, then you’re holding back something from us. That’s good—you should be—but if you intend to do that, you need to remember not to show us things like this that let us know just how much you’re holding back.”

“I didn’t expect a fighting style to be such a big deal,” Elan admitted with a roll of her eyes.

“That style predates the circles, girl,” Sindri said curtly. “It’s older than demons, as you know them . . . and demons are older than this entire world. Hells, this universe is a babe in her mother’s arms by comparison.”

Brokkr snorted. “Babe tossed out a window by an unloving bitch of a mother is more accurate, I’d say, brother.”

Sindri shot a mild glare in his brother’s direction but didn’t contradict the statement.

“That entirely aside,” he said with a roll of his eyes, “there’s no human alive who knows that style . . . or there shouldn’t be. If Kaern didn’t show it to you . . .” He trailed off. “The Nim taught you?”

Her expression was enough for him to tell that wasn’t it, but Sindri had no idea where else she could have learned what she knew. It was rather strange, but given the rebellious expression on her face, he expected that itch would go unscratched for the moment.

“Well, whoever it was did you a favor,” he said finally. “It’s a good style for you. Do you know the mental forms as well?”

Elan hesitated but finally nodded slowly.

“Practice them. Perfect them.” Sindri made no doubt that he was issuing an order, despite knowing that she would obey or not as she chose. “You’ll never regret having this under your belt if you master it. If you don’t . . . well, you’ll likely kill yourself and have done with it.”

She stared back at him for a moment, no expression on her face, though he could see the judgment slowly forming in her eyes. Finally she nodded firmly, and he smiled.

“Good. Now back to it,” he went on. “You show promise, but you’re not good enough to be trying what you’re out here doing. Even the lower demons here would eventually take you down, armor and weapon or no. The upper ranks would eat your soul through that armor and puppet your body around for their amusement, girl . . . and I promise you, their amusement would be twisted and perverse indeed.”

Elan shuddered, looking away before she lifted her arms and slid back into the second form.

*****

Krovak stalked along behind the two trackers who were making their way through the streets of the demon city. They weren’t having the easiest time of things, that much was clear. The traffic ruined the tracks more often than not, leading them to be lost and have to circle looking for somewhere to pick them up again, and the press of demons and filth in the streets did much the same for the scent trail.

Between the pair, however, he was confident that they were making real progress.

The trail had led away from the center of the city, out to the old docks that were open to the ocean air and weather. It wasn’t a comfortable place for many demons and was more in keeping with the slave residences, though not all in the circles had issues with either salt or moving water. He and the trackers were among those who could operate well enough in the uncomfortable environment, but most simply preferred to stay within the sheltered walls of the former metropolis.

It made sense, really. If there were a place where a real human resistance was forming up within the demon city, it would be out on the docking spires that stretched out into the waves. On the plus side, for him and the trackers at least, that salt air cleaned away many of the residual scents that were fouling the trail and made the losses less frequent as they moved farther out to the edges of the city.

Unfortunately, being open to the elements wiped away much of the crud and filth that they had been using to track, which had been more reliable up until that point. In many places now, the ground was down to bare metal and stone, leaving no trace of passage, whether one was human or demon. Gose was more often lost now than otherwise, following Wolf’s nose right alongside Krovak.

“This is slave territory,” Gose said. “Lower demons are known to . . . vanish here if they come without sufficient numbers.”

“I’m no Ninth Circle husk, rotting his flesh off and begging for death,” Krovak rumbled in response. “Nor are you.”

“I know that,” Gose said, then flicked his eyes over to the shadows, where forms could be seen looking on from hiding. “But do they?”

“They’ll learn if they don’t.”

Gose gave him an uncertain look but apparently decided that was enough and shut up about it. Krovak merely let his gaze sweep the shadows, and the forms vanished, scuttling off like the worthless vermin they were.

*****

Elan was working on the fourth form when a sound caused her to stop, and she looked over to see someone run in and whisper something to Brokkr and Jol, who were working on the other side of the room. The two immediately stopped what they were doing and started over.

“What is it?” Sindri asked, twisting in their direction, which surprised Elan, as she hadn’t thought he could see them in his previous position.

“Demons coming into this sector,” Jol said. “Three of them, moving a lot farther in than most are comfortable with.”

“Really? I suppose we should have a look then,” Sindri said.

Elan cocked her head to one side, calling up the city security feeds. It was simplicity itself to locate the feeds off her current position, and in short order she found the demons moving through the street.

“They’re coming this way,” she said, eyes unfocused. “Three of them, like you said. Two look . . . weak. The other does not.”

Sindri and Brokkr exchanged glances, but it was Sindri who spoke.

“The strong one, what does he look like?”

“Rough skin, like hide that’s been in the sun too long,” Elan answered. “Tall, strong. Broad across the shoulders, with spiked bones sticking from his shoulders, elbows, and other places.”

Brokkr frowned. “Seven feet tall, you think? Built like a beast, with a torn-up face to match?”

Elan looked at him oddly. “You just described most demons I’ve encountered, but yes to all three.”

“Probably Krovak,” Brokkr said, ignoring the rest of her statement. “He’s the sort that would get a dirty job for her.”

“Well, if it’s him, we have trouble,” Sindri said. “Only one reason he’d be out this far in the docks.”

The two looked over at Elan briefly.

“Me?”

“You blew a hole in a building, girl.” Sindri chuckled dryly. “That attracts attention.”

“Bad attention, if it’s Krovak,” Brokkr grumbled. “That old forner would recognize the signature of her weapon if anyone in this forsaken city would. He fought in the tail end of the war, when things got ugly. That’s one who enjoys killing humans in a way even most demons don’t. Not that he ever was a beauty, but that face of his is courtesy of a human with an iron knife. He made a mistake, underestimating that one. Far as I know, he never did again.”

“We’ll have to move her out of here,” Sindri said. “They’ll have to have called in trackers if they followed us back this far. Good ones too.”

“I’ll take care of them,” Jol said quietly from where he was standing.

“Don’t be foolish, boy,” Brokkr snapped. “Krovak would take you apart.”

Jol shot him an irritated look but kept his peace.

“I can get past them on my own,” Elan said, closing her armor entirely and picking up the tattered old cloak. “There are only three of them, and I can see everything they do. It will not be hard.”

Brokkr looked at her sourly, as though he wanted to object, but Sindri just sighed.

“She’s probably right. The girl is clearly plugged into the old security network,” he offered up.

“Sure, but how much of it is still intact?” Brokkr challenged. “There have to be dead zones.”

“There are,” Elan said. “Many of them. I will try to stay clear of them.”

“Still a problem,” Jol said, drawing their attention.

The three looked at him, confused.

“Well, boy?” Brokkr asked. “Other than the obvious ones, what do you see?”

“Trackers,” Jol said simply. “I don’t know why you didn’t ask her about it—maybe it’s too obvious for you—but there aren’t many ways into this city, and you both know it. No ways in or out for a human, in fact, unless you’re escorted by a lower-circle demon. She has a way. They’ll follow her to it and close it.”

The two brothers hissed softly, both looking a little chagrined at having missed that possibility.

“Boy has a point,” Brokkr said. “Could save a lot of lives.”

Sindri looked at Elan. “Maybe. Do we just kill the trackers? Or try to foul the trail?”

“Both,” Elan surprised them by answering. “First we kill them, all three, and then we foul the trail.”

Sindri grinned. “You think big, girl, I’ll give you that.”

She checked her sidearm, getting a cheerful green light that signaled its readiness to act, and slid it back into the holster on her hip before she looked up.

“I’m going to see every demon on this world dead,” Elan said with dull eyes as she looked back at them. “Moving them to the front of the list isn’t thinking big; it’s just shifting priorities.”

*****

The sky was a disgusting shade of blue, and the wind smelled of salt and something he couldn’t place. Whatever it was, Krovak didn’t much like it. Any of it, frankly. The sun burned even his flesh, though less than most demons, and the salt did much the same to his nose, mouth, and lungs.

There was a reason he’d avoided coming this far out of the city proper, a reason why most demons just avoided it entirely. It had become a haven for the human slaves that did most of the work in the demon city. He tolerated them, the way one might tolerate cattle, but being this close to so many left him seething inside.

Still, they weren’t his assignment, and the one thing he took more seriously than his hate was assignments from her. All the more if that assignment was to locate a real human warrior, rather than the pitiful livestock their descendants had allowed themselves to become.

The slaves had fled before them anyway, leaving the streets open, both clear and clean. It was an odd feeling to be wandering through streets so empty and without any trace of habitation. The wind whistled through the buildings. An occasional bit of clutter would blow along in front of them as they walked.

“Are you sure you still have the scent?” he demanded as Wolf paused to sniff at the air and look around briefly.

“Barely,” Wolf grunted. “The salt is ruining my nose. If we don’t find them soon, I’ll be of no use in this—or anything else—for at least a week.”

“Then find them, fast, and you’ll get your week on my authority,” Krovak snarled. “Lose them, though, and that week will be a horror you’ll not soon forget.”

Wolf hissed at him but twisted and sniffed again before responding, “That way.” The hirsute demon pointed.

Krovak looked and saw that it was a door that led inward.

“Finally,” he growled, “we can get out of this forsaken sun and salt air.”

The trio headed for the door and were almost there when Wolf stopped dead and caused the other two to haul up short as well to keep from running into the back of him.

“What is it?” Krovak snapped, irritated.

“We’re not alone,” the tracker hissed. “The scent just got a lot stronger, and it’s not coming from inside.”

He sniffed again at the air, then twisted around into the wind blowing from the city. Krovak and Gose turned as well, eyes widening as a single figure stood there in the center of the thoroughfare.

It was a human, Krovak recognized instantly, though a smaller one and a female, he thought. He recognized the armor instantly and the weapon on the human’s hip as the damned little beast stood there, clearly challenging them as the wind set her cloak billowing. The human’s hand dropped to the weapon, resting easily on the grip as her hair flowed in the wind.

Krovak spread his hands wide, roaring to the skies as the two trackers split away from him quickly. Gose went for his weapons, while Wolf howled like his namesake and dropped to all fours.

“Come on then,” the human called clearly. “I have something here for each of you.”

Chapter 13

Simone shook her head as she spread on the table the rough sketches of the plans provided for her by Merlin.

“We can’t move enough people,” she said tiredly, having spent hours trying over and over to find a way to make the plans work. “The boats we’ve made can move a few dozen, maximum. It’ll take multiple crossings and several days, even going all day and night, to move even the limited forces we have . . . and even with that, I have to agree with your assessment. It would not be enough.”

“I am aware,” Merlin responded, his own tone even and unchanged from normal despite a deep inner weariness that matched what he was seeing in the woman across from him. “Nothing I have calculated gives us much better than an even chance of disrupting their plans. Surviving afterward is far less than that.”

“Survival would be a nice bonus,” Simone said acerbically before sighing and straightening up from where she had been leaning over the plans. She pushed her hair out of her face. “What about Elan?”

“What about her?” Merlin countered.

“Is she alright?”

His attention flicked for a moment. “She’s fine at this point, though the foolish girl seems intent on challenging an entire city of demons on her own, so I am not certain how long that will last. She’s acquired . . . allies perhaps? Not enemies, at least.”

“She’s good at that.” Simone smiled.

“She’s better at acquiring enemies, it seems,” Merlin said with a hint of a frown. “She’s caused a minor stir among the residents of the city. They’re tracking her, I believe.”

“Can you warn her?”

“If I must,” Merlin answered. “However, I would prefer she learn as much as possible, so I will not intervene unless I consider her at significant risk without my help.”

“She’s in the middle of a demonic city. How significant do you need it to be?” Simone challenged him dryly.

“By her choice and against my advice,” he replied firmly. “So much of the risk is beyond my ability to mitigate. I will only intervene if I judge there to be something I can do that she needs doing, as opposed to merely making it easier on her. Hard lessons teach best.”

Simone grimaced, wanting to challenge him, but she knew it was true. She wasn’t certain that his definition of risk lined up at all with her own . . . but there was little she could do to really change the entity’s mind.

For the moment, that meant she was best served focusing on the task at hand.

“What are the demons doing now?” she asked. “Locally, I mean.”

Merlin shifted focus, glancing to one side as imagery appeared in midair for them to examine.

Simone stepped around the table to look closer, pointing to the small demon at the center of most of the images. “I’ve never seen a demon like that.”

“Count yourself lucky then,” Merlin responded. “Our best information places them as what we would call high-ranked specialists . . . by the standards of my time. ‘Rune practitioners’ is the best translation we ever got for their speciality and title. No human force that went after one of them without the advantage of surprise ever survived to return. They are known for being able to prepare a battlefield to their advantage given even the slightest of lead times.”

“They’re that powerful?” Simone was shocked. She’d seen what Elan could do with the weapons of Merlin’s time. The very idea that there were demons that dangerous to what she assumed had to be more effective warriors with the same weapons was . . . frightening.

“Not in the way you likely imagine,” Merlin said. “Physically, they’re frail. I suspect you could easily kill one if you got close enough. They have very little direct power. It is their mastery of the quantum language they call runes that makes them deadly.”

“A language?”

“Of the universe, one might say,” Merlin said. “Humans once believed that the language of the universe was mathematics . . . that everything could be quantified, analyzed, and explained with numbers alone. They were . . . almost right.”

He brought one of the screens in closer, showing the fine detail of the engraving the scrawny demon was painstakingly setting into the stone with tools and its bare hands. She watched, disturbed by the smoke rising from its fingers as it traced the lines it had just carved.

“Numbers may be used to explain the universe,” Merlin said. “However, the true language of the universe is below the quantum level. It exists on sizes and scales so tiny and large that you quite literally cannot possibly have any conception of them. It would take me at least a decade, more likely two, just to instruct you in enough knowledge for you to begin understanding the scales involved. For now, I will simply say that this particular language exists on a scale so small that the width of a single human is gargantuan by comparison.”

“If it’s so small, how is he writing it?” she asked, pointing to the engravings on the stone before them.

“He isn’t, not really,” Merlin hedged. “He is engraving a symbol that creates a sympathetic harmony with the concept he wishes to reference. It is a principle of what demons call magic and was defined by humans as the similarity principle. By linking two similar things, they can affect one another. Demons use this as a tool, a weapon, many things. Humans once referred to it as entwining, which is a better description, but never truly developed it as a practical tool.”

“What can it do?”

“The unimaginable,” Merlin answered grimly. “It can cause rock to decide that floating in midair would be a fine idea . . . blood to choose to boil, air to turn to liquid . . . or any number of other things. Give one of those time to prepare, and only those who wish to die should consider venturing an attack against them.”

“Can you tell what it will do here?” she asked then.

“Only in part,” Merlin said. “Certainly it will open a portal . . . a doorway to another dimension, where presumably it will summon these . . . elder. Beyond that, I am uncertain. Based on everything I have been able to gather, both from my own archives and from what Elan has been discovering, this would be a very bad thing indeed.”

“Then we must stop it.”

“Indeed. However, I do not see how we might.”

*****

Overseeing assignments from the circles was never what one might call a warm affair. Dealing with rune-masters, however, was a completely different level of the sort of unnatural twisting of the universe that had become largely accepted as normal by those such as Tel.

As the master worked, Tel could feel the nature of the area around them churning in protest.

A screaming from behind him caused Tel to spin, his four eyes wide as he saw a massive shark had burst from the surf and grabbed a demon foolish enough to be standing that close. The beast chomped twice, then regurgitated the demon back to the sand before flopping back into the water and vanishing into the surf from whence it came.

“Everyone be on guard!” he snarled. “No more foolish losses, damn it!”

That was an unlikely hope, but he had to issue the order anyway.

“Let the beasts eat their fill,” the rune-master rasped from where the small demon was curled up and working on the stone. “Shortly they will fall to the yoke as everything else will. Just keep them away from the standing stones while I work.”

Tel hesitated, but there was really nothing else he could do.

He nodded firmly. “Very well.” He stepped away, waving in his forces. “Guard the stones. Nothing passes.”

They moved quickly to follow orders; most of them had no choice. Ninth Circle demons had nothing that even resembled free will, as the change had totally broken their minds and nothing had yet managed to rebuild itself from that inevitable mess. Even many circles lower than the Ninth had little enough will of their own, except in extreme situations.

They were all blank slates, interchangeable and utterly expendable.

Aside from minor differences in appearances, a demon of the Ninth Circle was absolutely indistinguishable from any other of his fellows.

More screams sounded around them, and he spotted a swarm of those be-damned snakes slithering out of the jungle, with spiders and various other nasty pests joining them.

“Fires! Burn them out!” he ordered as more demons and human slaves fell to the blind attack.

Magical fires roared around them in response, lighting up the world and bringing searing heat washing over both sides as the fight was joined.

*****

“That,” Merlin said, surprised, “was unexpected.”

“I’ve never seen animals do anything like that,” Simone admitted, eyeing the imagery that Merlin was showing her. “I know that many don’t like demons, but that is . . .”

“Agreed,” Merlin said, puzzling over what his probes were recording.

It was true that animals generally did not like the presence of the demonic. It had been supposed that it had to do with the dimensional resonance being detectable to many species of animal that could tell that they were facing something that didn’t belong. Wolves, particularly dire wolves, had oft been allies of humans in the early days of the war. Unfortunately they had also been common targets of the demonic forces, and the last of the dire wolves had died a long time earlier.

To his knowledge, however, sharks were not among the species that were prone to attacking demons out of the blue . . . sea, as it were.

Of course, Merlin wasn’t aware of many times when demons had opted for combat of any sort in, or even on, the open water, so perhaps it wasn’t that unexpected.

He and Simone watched as the sea and land practically roiled with a surge of animals, drawn to the area by some instinct to attack blindly at the demons and be attacked quickly in return.

“If only we could help,” Simone whispered. “It would take hours, though, to move even a few of our people there . . . and I would be afraid of being mistaken for a demon.”

“True,” Merlin said, considering as he shifted his focus slightly. “However, I may be able to do something.”

One of the images began to move, drawing Simone’s attention.

“What are you doing?”

“The probes I am using to monitor the area have the capability of acquiring . . . samples,” Merlin said. “They were designed for wildlife preservation efforts. While they’re distracted, I believe I can buy us some more time.”

Simone watched, wide-eyed, as one of the images moved unsteadily through the air toward the standing stones. The scene was confused enough on the other images, she found, trying to understand what was going on. Though the moving one was impossible, somehow Merlin got it into position among the stones and settled in without any of the demons apparently noticing.

“This will be . . . tricky,” he said with a hint of nerves in his voice that Simone had never heard from the entity before.

She looked over, concerned. “What are you talking about?”

“Disrupting a rune cluster can have rather . . . disturbing consequences,” Merlin replied. “And as close as that island is to Atlantis, I would rather avoid any of the more disastrous ones if at all possible.”

He spoke casually, but the majority of his intent was focused with laser precision on the task he had set himself. Given the risks of allowing the demons to complete the task, Merlin supposed that he might chance the destruction of Atlantis if needs be, but he would at least attempt to evacuate them first if it came to that. However, this time he did not believe that was necessary.

Merlin would avoid the activated runes and thus avoid any defenses the runic specialist might have emplaced that would likely befoul his entire attempt and reveal the presence of his probes. Until the runes were properly linked with the subquanta, they were merely pretty symbols carved into stone.

He might be extremely concerned about messing with activated runes, but pretty symbols had no such worries for him as he activated the probe’s sampling mechanism and laser cut away a small section of the rune before picking another random location and repeating himself.

“Hurry,” Simone urged him. “The animal attacks are falling off . . . the demons’ defense is working.”

“Unsurprising,” Merlin said. “Fire will deter most beasts . . . and men as well unless they’re properly prepared.”

Simone grimaced. “Speaking of which . . . we may need to make some preparation for dealing with fire; otherwise our own attack will be rather . . . short-lived.”

“Point,” Merlin conceded as he withdrew the probe to a safe distance, having accomplished his goal by using the sampler to sabotage key parts of the runes. “I have some equipment seconded to fire suppression units that might be of use. However, it will not protect against everything in the same manner as armor.”

“We’ll take what we can get.”

Merlin nodded. “I will have it brought from storage.”

Simone looked at the screens. “Do you think it was enough?”

“Time will tell.”

*****

Caleb grunted as he tossed a massive slab of wood to the beach, watching it bounce slightly as it thudded to the sand with enough force to startle everyone in the area.

He was getting better with the armor, and it amazed him just how intoxicating it was to have as much strength and power at his command as this seemingly simple piece of clothing offered. With the ability to lift so much, move so quickly, it was all he could do not to push harder and faster with every step as he sought to find where the limits lay.

It had taken very little time to get used to it, and he’d been slowly bringing up the power of the armor as he progressed from just relearning to walk to actively helping with preparations by lugging materials from the forest to the beach for others to turn into something of use.

He was barely able to contain his excitement for seeing just what it could do in a fight.

Caleb wanted to face off with demons, and he wanted to do it soon.

For now, though . . . Caleb thought with a grin as he pulled the axe off his belt and bounded back toward the forest, it’s time to do battle with some more trees.

*****

Tel gritted his teeth, ignoring the shards that broke loose as he spat them to the ground and took in account of the results of the “attack” his forces had just endured.

The animals had been killed or finally driven off by fire, but they’d done damage before that had happened.

He had lost scores of his warriors and more slaves than that. The Ninth Circle general worker drones had probably suffered most. They were of no particular value now that the stones were in place and the heaviest work was done, so he could manage very little concern over those losses.

Human slaves were more valuable by far than the dregs of the Ninth Circle. At least the humans could accomplish work that required attention to detail, assuming you could trust them not to sabotage your operation. Since these had all been slaves for many generations, sabotage didn’t even enter into the minds of most of them.

It was entirely possible that they would not do a job out of laziness or some similar motivation, but he doubted any of them had the mental fortitude left to actually contemplate any sort of active resistance against their betters by this point. That was how the authority of the lower circles wanted things to be, and that was how they had become.

Humans still had to be watched, of course. Unlike Ninth Circle dregs, they had free will, for all the good and ill that came with such an affliction. A good slave could spot problems and correct them before they became more than a small matter . . . but bad ones could be lazy and deliberately obtuse in ways the automaton nature of a Ninth Circle demon simply didn’t allow.

That made humans useful but dangerous.

It had taken centuries of annihilating any resistance, promoting comforts for those who behaved, but in the end the demons got what they needed from the humans.

Placid obedience.

They had learned a long time ago what happened to a human who stood against demons.

Chapter 14

The howl sent a chill down her spine as Elan watched the trio of demons break into a sprint directly at her. She felt that deep urge to run fill her but ignored it as she brought up her own rage and sent the momentary fear fleeing her body in response.

She had faced a legion; three would not stop her.

Her hand wrapped around the grip of her weapon as she plucked it from her belt, intent on the largest demon in the center as she brought the bore of the weapon up level with the ground.

Targeting information, most of which she had barely begun to understand, flowed across her eyes. Warnings of potential collateral damage screamed at her as she realized that there were people all around. Not demons—people.

I can’t kill all those people, she realized in a horror-struck moment.

The moment’s hesitation was almost her undoing.

Before she could work out how she was going to deal with the situation, the fastest of the trio was on top of her. He looked like a mangy beast, with patches of fur over leather flesh, more animal than man. He snarled and charged inside her defensive radius so quickly that only her reaction saved her from the dripping teeth as she swept her weapon up and instinctively sought out a blade to defend herself.

The sidearm shifted as the wolf leapt, catching the beast in the chest and impaling him a third of the way down the blade. Elan flinched away as he snarled and snapped at her, clawing at the blade to drag himself closer as his maw lunged and bit at the air just inches from her face.

A last pull on the blade brought the wolf close enough to snap his jaws down on her head, but Elan had recovered sufficiently by then to properly react. She roared as she lifted the blade up and away from her, pushing the beast away as well, then cocked back her other hand and hammered it into the beast’s head.

Once. Twice.

On the third time, something cracked, and the beast went into a frenzy. Elan grabbed him by the maw and forced the snarling teeth up and away with all the combined strength of her arm and armor in one, until another snap was heard and she wrenched the blade out and down.

Blood and organs spattered on the ground, and the body hit a moment later, Elan’s blade sweeping down and around as it cast an arc of blood and viscera about her feet in a gory circle of protection. She glanced to see the second coming fast and stepped into the fallen body so she could hook her foot into the corpse and kick it hard into the air.

The flying demonic corpse slammed into its former fellow, sending both sprawling as Elan twisted just in time to see the third—and largest—dropping through the air right onto her position.

She threw up her blade at the last second, catching the overhanded blow on the edge of her weapon as black sparks flew from the meeting of sword and demonic flesh, and she was ground down to one knee by the force. The demon roared down at her, ignoring the thin line of black ichor seeping from the thin cuts caused by her weapon. He withdrew, then hammered his fists down again and again against her sword. The force stressed Elan’s armor to the very limits as she barely kept her defense in place under the assault.

*****

Jolinr jerked in place, hammer held up in his grip as he started forward out of the building, but the hand of Brokkr pulled him roughly back.

“Not yet,” Brokkr hissed. “Let her handle this.”

“What?” Jol couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “Even I would be killed by him alone, Brokkr. She’s just . . .”

“Just what?” Brokkr asked, amused. “Female? A child? She flattened you earlier, Jol. She has the tools; she may have the skills. Let’s see what she does with them.”

Jol growled, but the hand on his shoulder was iron and refused to give even under his best pressure.

“We shouldn’t just watch,” he said, frustrated, casting his free arm around, his gesture taking in the cowering people around them who were just looking on. “That makes us no better than any of them!”

Brokkr just grinned nastily. “Why do you think I want to see how this plays out?”

Jol looked confused as the girl and the demon were locked in mortal combat just a few dozen meters away. “What?”

“If you go out there and win against Krovak, do you know what they’ll all say?” Brokkr asked.

Jol just looked confused.

“They’ll all say, ‘Oh, that Jolinr. He’s such a stupid fool; this is just like him,’” Brokkr told him. “They’re used to you being you. I want to see what they say when they see another human warrior stand up to the demons. So stand down, Jol, and let this play out.”

Jolinr hissed but then glanced around. “Wait . . . where’s Sindri?”

“I said we’d let it play out,” Brokkr grinned, looking past Jol. “I didn’t say we wouldn’t take out some insurance.”

Jolinr looked over in the direction Brokkr was looking, and his eyes widened in surprise.

*****

Gose was stunned by what happened to Wolf. The short and brutal encounter had gone in almost exactly the opposite way of what Gose had predicted when the other tracker reached the human first.

For the first few moments of the fight, he had been angry that Wolf was faster than him, and then the other tracker had almost been split in two, and suddenly he wasn’t so unhappy to be slower. The carcass of his oft competitor had caught Gose by surprise again, sending him to the ground and covering him in the viscera of the other demon. Gose kicked himself free and scrambled to his feet as Krovak engaged the human, hammering her into the ground, though she put up a surprising defense.

Gose gathered up his own weapon and elected to move around to get at her back to end the fight in a hurry.

Wolf had been a smug, insufferably and incredibly aggravating sort . . . but he was a demon, and that made him worth more than every human in existence.

No human gets a kill like that and has it go unanswered, Gose determined as he picked his way cautiously around while keeping an eye on the fight.

Krovak had the upper hand, but the human was still managing to keep the bigger demon at bay, which spoke volumes for how dangerous this one actually was. Gose steeled himself and prepared his weapon as he picked a point on the girl’s back as his target and prepared to charge.

Gose didn’t even feel the slide of the iron blade as it carved into his lower back, seeking out and finding vital organs as the iron ground out his internal magic and the necrotizing nature of the change began to slowly turn his body to decomposing sludge.

Gose gurgled as his legs buckled and he fell to both knees, a hand in his hair pulling the head back so his eyes remained on the fight.

“Watch,” a voice whispered in his ear. “What you’re seeing is the beginning of the end of a very long war. Be happy you’re here to see it . . . few get to witness history like this.”

Gose tried to speak, but his lungs didn’t seem to be working any longer and he couldn’t even turn to see who had him by the hair.

“Who wins in the end, I don’t know yet,” the voice admitted as Gose felt himself dying. “But it’s going to be a glorious final battle. I was worried, you know. After such potential, the humans seemed ready to go softly into oblivion . . .”

The world started to go dark, and Gose couldn’t see anything anymore, but he could hear the voice still chatting conversationally to him as he died.

“Let’s see if this can wake them up.”

*****

Elan screamed.

She was being hammered into the ground, barely holding the demon off, but she refused to let it end in so ignominious a fashion. She screamed as she forced herself up, a scream that turned into a roar as she slashed with her blade on the next strike and deflected the blow off to her left and into the ground beside her.

Surging up, she led with her right fist. Still clenching the hilt of her sword, Elan drove it in a straight powered jab that shattered the jagged, diseased teeth of the demon bent over her and sent it reeling back. With a little extra room, she crossed with her left to the demon’s extended jaw and heard a nasty-sounding crack.

Elan got to her feet and took a step back, giving herself a little fighting room as she swept her blade around and slashed across from the right, then around and down from the left. Black sparks flew as the blade skated off the demon’s impossibly hard flesh, opening only the slightest of wounds with each slash and eliciting a roar of rage instead of pain as she had hoped.

The backhand caught her by surprise, lifting her off her feet. She was thrown back to slide along the stone as her weapon skittered out of her grip. Elan saw spots in front of her eyes but knew she couldn’t take the time to shake them away. She rolled over her shoulder, getting her legs under her, and surged back to her feet as the demon came rushing in.

At the last second she decided that meeting Krovak head-on was not a winning strategy.

Elan ducked low, planting her shoulder into his guts, and let the demon fold in half over her before she snapped straight.

The motion catapulted the demon through the air, tumbling wildly until he slammed into a stone wall with enough force to send a rumbling crack snapping such that no one who heard it could tell if the demon or the stone broke first.

Elan cast around, spotting her sidearm highlighted through her armor’s display, and lunged toward it.

The demon caught her just mere feet from the weapon, snapping a kick to her guts that folded Elan in half as she was lifted off the ground and sent straight up over a dozen feet. The armor spread out and absorbed a lot of the force, but enough still transmitted that her breath was blown out of her chest and she gasped futilely for oxygen as she looked down to see the demon launch himself into the air after her.

With no breath in her lungs and her brain screaming for oxygen like she’d not had a taste of air in weeks, Elan forced herself to twist as the demon’s talons reached out for her. She got under them by undulating her body out of the way, then grabbed on to pull herself in close where she could get enough leverage to start hammering one powered blow after another into the demon’s ribs.

Bones cracked under her pinpoint crushing strikes, the two crashing into the ground as she finally managed to force her lungs to open up and draw in a deep breath.

They rolled, Elan coming on top as she roared and grabbed the demon’s tusk with her left hand, leveraging every ounce of strength out of the armor. She began to pull down even as she punched with her right hand over and over again into the demon’s face and head.

Bones cracked; viscera spattered the ground, the demon, and her as she continued to hammer down over and over again.

Elan thought she might have blacked out. One moment she was locked in mortal combat with the demon, and the next he was lying motionless below her with a pulverized sack of bone and meat for a head.

A voice shook her out of the fugue.

“I’d say you can stop now.”

Elan jerked upright and twisted as she brought her fist up to defend, but the origin of the voice was a fair distance away.

Sindri smiled at her as he cleaned his dagger off and sheathed it.

“Nice work,” he said. “A bit messy, but it could have been far worse.”

Elan panted, taking deep, angry breaths.

“I thought you were going to help.”

“I did,” Sindri said, pointing to the dead demon behind him. “What do you call that?”

“Less than I expected!” she snarled, eyes flashing as she spun to glare at the approaching Brokkr and Jol.

Only Jol had the decency to look embarrassed.

“Was for a good cause, girl,” Brokkr told her. “Besides, you handled it. If you’d really needed help, we’d have stepped in.”

“Says you,” she replied skeptically.

“Yes,” Brokkr said flatly, “says me. Choose to believe me or not. That is on you.”

“Sorry,” Jol said, looking down. “Brokkr stopped me. I shouldn’t have let him.”

The short man grunted. “As if you could have prevented it.”

Elan shot Brokkr a disgusted look, turning her back as she looked over the mess on the ground around her.

“What do we do about this?” she asked, nodding to the bodies.

Brokkr shrugged. “Leave ’em to rot.”

“Won’t the local lord do anything?” she asked, glancing around at the people who were now appearing from the shadows. “What about them?”

Brokkr shrugged. “That’s their problem, isn’t it?”

Elan spun on him, eyes alight with anger. “I’m not seeing people suffer because of something I did.”

“So do something about it, then,” Sindri told her.

Elan glared but turned on the bodies left on the ground where they had fallen, eyes searching for an option. She could carry them out, though even in armor it would be a grisly and unpleasant task. She wasn’t sure what she could do with them, though.

Throw them in the water? Elan supposed that was an option, though she wasn’t sure if that would get rid them or not. How deep is the water here? Will they sink?

She considered that for a moment, then remembered something Merlin had explained to her once and reconsidered.

“Everyone stand back,” she ordered firmly, surprising the brothers and Jol.

“What are you—? Hey now!” Brokkr threw his hands up as Elan drew her sidearm again and swept it around. “Wait just a—”

The discharge of the weapon was surprisingly quiet. There was a soft crack as the magnetically contained pellet broke the sound barrier, and the weapon bucked lightly in Elan’s grip. She shifted to the next target and fired again as the first impacted and broke containment. Matter met antimatter, and a flash of pure white light blinded anyone who had the misfortune of looking in the direction of the blast.

There was no explosion to speak of, though, just an energetic reaction that made everyone dive for cover as she repeated the action two more times.

When she was done, there were scorch marks but little else left of the fight.

“Are ye insane?” Brokkr snarled at her. “That’s the stupidest . . .”

He seemed apoplectic and at a loss for words as he broke into epithets that Elan didn’t have to recognize to understand. She holstered her weapon again, then flashed him a rude gesture she’d learned from Caleb, ignoring his ranting.

“My brother’s over-the-top reaction aside,” Sindri said, coming out from behind cover he had dragged Jol to as she fired the first shot, “I’m going to assume that you weren’t briefed on that weapon you carry.”

“It was explained to me,” Elan said.

“Not well, apparently. That is a negative matter blaster,” he told her firmly. “When it encounters normal matter, the two self-annihilate.”

“Right.” Elan nodded. “I know this.”

“You may, but I do not believe you quite understand what happens to the matter in question,” Sindri grumbled. “The two cannot survive contact, so they are instantly transmuted to energy. That is the heat and discharge that causes the majority of the destruction. That energy is also rather . . . nasty in how it impacts humans. You’re wearing armor. Jol and the others here are not. Please restrain your impulses, lest you poison everyone around you in the future.”

Elan stared at him for a moment, then glanced down at her weapon. She wasn’t certain he could be trusted, but she would check it with Merlin when she had an opportunity.

“I will consider it,” she said aloud.

“Consider it?” Brokkr, who had been coming down from his apoplectic fit, cried out again. “You crazy, stupid little . . .”

“Brother, calm,” Sindri ordered, holding a hand up before looking at Elan evenly. “Please do so. Seriously.” He sighed, looking at the scorches. “Nevertheless, that does at least temporarily solve the current problem, if nothing else. I might even have considered it a good job if you’d given enough warning for people to clear out. Still, nothing to be done about that now, so good enough, I suppose.” He then turned to Brokkr. “And you may as well stop swearing. It was your idea to push her and see how she might handle the situation.”

“I didn’t know she was ignorant of the weapons she carries!”

“You made an assumption,” Sindri retorted dryly, “and we both know how well those tend to turn out.”

Brokkr started swearing again, but quieter, and he seemed to have no further response.

Sindri glanced back. “Unfortunately, that will only delay the inevitable response. You have done what you could, however. For the moment we should see to the issue of the elder, because I believe that is the most pressing of all the current problems you face.”

Elan looked at him sourly. “Fine. Let’s go.”

*****

She felt it again. The explosion of energy was intense enough that someone of her status could hardly miss it. It was like a small star igniting just a few miles away, brilliant and a little chilling at the same time. Ser’Goth twisted to look out toward the old docks of the city, where they extended far out into the sea beyond the environmental containment walls.

“Dispatch response forces to the eastern docks,” she ordered, not looking back. “And, Chamberlain?”

“Yes, my lady?” the chamberlain asked nervously.

“You said you assigned Krovak to find the source?”

“Yes, my lady,” the chamberlain confirmed.

“What did he say about it when you showed it to him?” she asked.

“I don’t believe it really matters, my lady. He was merely guessing . . .”

“A guess from such as he is better than certainty from many others,” she snapped. “What. Did. He. Say?”

The chamberlain winced but finally sighed and gave in. “Krovak believed that there was what he called an ‘authorized human warrior’ in the city.”

Ser’Goth spun. “He said what?”

The chamberlain held up his hands. “My lady, I told you he was merely guessing and—”

“If any would know, it would be he!” she snarled, crossing the room and snapping out her right hand to catch the chamberlain under his chin to lift him entirely off the ground, slamming him back into the wall behind him. “You should have reported this instantly!”

“My . . . lady . . .” the chamberlain choked out, barely able to speak against the force of her grip around his throat. “I . . . sorry . . .”

“Feh!” She spat, tossing him aside with a casual gesture that nevertheless snapped bones as he struck the far wall. “Useless.”

Ignoring the fallen chamberlain, who was writhing on the ground, Ser’Goth strode out of the room and into the antechamber beyond.

“Guards!” she snarled. “To my side!”

A pair of hulking demons appeared silently from the shadows, an impressive feat considering their size—but they hadn’t been chosen entirely for their size, after all—and took positions on either side of her. Ser’Goth strode through the halls with guards in tow, dropping several floors before she reached her initial goal.

“Commander,” she growled, spotting the local legion commander.

“My lady.” The slim and surprisingly small demon saluted. “What are your orders?”

“We have intruders in the city,” she said with certainty. “I have been informed that Krovak identified the damage earlier as being from an authorized human warrior.”

The commander flushed dark. “Surely he’s mistaken . . .”

“The chamberlain believed as much as well and elected not to inform me of his conclusions until I sensed another energy release of similar proportions,” she snarled. “Krovak made the ill-advised decision to take only two trackers with him when he went in pursuit of the target.”

The commander hissed. “Foolish. He’s blinded by his ambitions.”

“Assuming he yet lives,” Ser’Goth grumbled. “If he and the trackers succeeded, then those recent blasts . . .”

“Understood.” The commander nodded firmly. “I will dispatch teams immediately. Where did you sense the release?”

“East docks,” she growled. “Scour them. Roust everything that breathes or moves. Find the source. If Krovak is there, I want him before me within the hour. If not, then discover where he is—or was.”

“It will be done.”

“Do not make the chamberlain’s mistake, Commander.” She glowered intently at the smaller demon. “Keep me informed.”

Chapter 15

Merlin rewatched the fight and its aftermath from the perspective of Elan’s armor as well as what few surveillance systems were functional in that part of the city. There were fewer of the latter than he would have liked—the outer rings of the city had suffered a higher rate of malfunction than the more protected inner areas—but he still had several views available to him.

The fight itself was both better and worse than he had the right to expect. He could have wished that she had drawn and fired her weapon quicker, but based on her telemetry from the armor, he suspected that she was afraid of hitting the other humans in the area.

A not unfounded fear, Merlin had to admit.

Given the scenario, however, a trained warrior would have fired anyway. Collateral damage was something to be minimized, it was true, but not at the risk of your own life . . . especially not when you were the only warrior in the area. Once she was dead, after all, who would be able to do those people any good?

Still, once she shifted to the close-range application of the sidearm, she did better than he might have expected.

He was rather amused by the aftermath. Using negative matter to annihilate the bodies was . . . well, not a novel approach. It had been done in the past, but it was a decisive one. It fit her personality well.

The short man’s thoughts on the risk of radiation were hilarious.

Not that he was wrong, of course. A self-annihilation burst of that nature pumped out some rather lethal forms of radiation indeed. However, most of the forms produced had half-lives in the nanosecond range. Extremely damaging but incredibly short-lived.

Merlin doubted that anyone in range had received more than a couple of times the normal radiation dose they would have endured on any given day at a high-altitude location on earth.

Whether he would tell Elan that when she inevitably asked . . . well, Merlin was still debating that point. Firing off a late-war sidearm without extremely good cause was reckless, at the very least, and he normally wouldn’t encourage it. Of course, the times were not precisely normal either, else he never would have issued one to her in the first place, so he would have to consider it further.

He shifted his focus back from the events at Lemuria and examined the happenings closer to home . . . well, closer to the fledgling Atlanteans’ home, that was.

The standing stones were still intact, despite every attempt at regular attacks by local wildlife and, oddly, the occasional plant life. Merlin still wasn’t certain what was going on there, but he wasn’t one to ignore good fortune when it was presented to him either. Using the distractions presented, he had managed to drive the rune specialist to something very nearing upon a coronary, assuming the demon had a heart. His sampling probe had been busy at work, drilling out small core samples at every opportunity to destroy runes and slow down the progress as much as he could.

It was only a delaying tactic, however, as the probe had neither the capacity nor the endurance to continue on indefinitely.

Soon it would be up to the humans themselves.

*****

Caleb laughed as he stood in the stern of the dugout and pushed hard against the bottom with the long oar they’d fashioned from a good, solid tree trunk, sending the boat skimming through the water at surprisingly high speed as the heavy wood cut the waves. Three kids were laughing along with him as they rode in the front, bouncing and jostling with each slide through a wave.

“More! More!”

“Can’t do it,” Caleb answered, laughing regretfully as he turned the boat back to the beach. “This one tests out. We have more work to do.”

The kids moaned, but there was little they could say about it. Everyone knew how important the boats were, and now that the last one was tested, it was time for work of a different sort to get under way.

On the beach, as the prow dug into sand, Caleb hopped out and splashed in the water as he moved forward and easily hefted the boat clear of the sand and dragged it up on the beach.

“Did you have fun?” Simone asked, one eyebrow raised as she watched the laughing kids jump into the surf and play.

“Just a bit.” Caleb grinned unrepentantly.

“Good,” Simone told him, breaking into a smile. “But we have real work to do soon.”

He nodded seriously. “I know.”

He glanced up the beach and saw that the other boats were being packed, and some of the assembled people were carrying weapons and were dressed in unusual clothing.

“Fire protection clothing,” Simone answered the unasked question, following his gaze. “Merlin dug it out of storage after we monitored certain events at the other island.”

Caleb cringed. “Do I want to know what those events were?”

“Probably not. However, they might be important, so I’m going to tell you anyway.”

“Of course you are,” he sighed, resigned.

Simone just chuckled and described the attack on the demons, causing Caleb to listen closely despite himself. The idea that the demons were stirring up something such that animals were attacking them was beyond his ken, and he really didn’t have a clue what to make of it.

“Are we going to have to fight through snakes and such as well?” he asked, more than a little worried.

Less for himself. He’d seen what the armor he was wearing could do. However, few of the others had much in the way of protective clothing at all, despite Merlin’s largess.

“It’s possible.” Simone nodded. “We’ll try to time our move so we don’t wind up in the middle of a swarm of similar attacks, but there are no guarantees.”

Caleb grimaced but knew she was telling the truth.

“Alright,” he said, setting his jaw firmly. “Let’s do this.”

*****

Merlin kept a probe on both the demons and the Atlanteans, who were now setting themselves in motion, observing the progress of both with deep concern.

The demons were rapidly approaching the completion of the runic circle engraved into the standing stones. Once that was done, the only thing left would be empowering them and then finally connecting them to the portion of the subquanta universe they were symbolically designed to influence.

He wasn’t entirely certain what would happen after that, but it seemed assuredly bad for humans and the planet in general. He’d finished scouring every record he had, and he had located nothing but rumor concerning the elder. That frustrated him to no end, leaving him with little choice but to go to the only remaining source of information that seemed to have anything he could use.

Merlin contacted Elanthielle.

*****

“Child.”

Elan jumped, startled by the voice. Merlin hadn’t been in contact with her much since she’d arrived on Lemuria, and she had gotten used to the silence in her head again.

“What is it?” she asked, in turn startling her companions, who all turned to see what, or who, she was talking to.

“We have a problem.” Merlin spoke through her armor into her ear. “The demons on the local island are constructing a circle of standing stones and have brought in a runic specialist to engrave them with a summoning set.”

Elan just looked confused, which left her observers just as confused.

“I don’t understand a thing you just said,” she admitted. “What is a summoning set?”

“Runes, girl,” Brokkr grunted, only hearing her side of the conversation but following it more than enough to answer anyway. “A set of runes that can open a gate through dimensions.”

“Precisely what he said,” Merlin said to her alone. “This set is attuned to something known as the elder.”

“The brothers mentioned that,” she said, looking between Sindri and Brokkr, who now offered her their undivided attention, while Jol just stared at her in total confusion.

“What’s she talking about?” he asked Sindri.

The short man shrugged. “The girl is speaking with someone through her armor. Don’t worry about it. We’ll explain more another time.”

“What are elder?” Elan asked.

“Bad things, like we told you already,” Brokkr snorted. “For your purposes, consider them demons. They’re not, not exactly, but that’s close enough. Just not normal demons. They’re powerful.”

“They’re also indescribable,” Sindri said, “so don’t bother asking for more. Each elder is not only different from their fellows, but they can appear as different things to different observers. All that matters is that they’re extremely bad for anyone local. Once they come through, the game is over. Even some of the smarter demons will be looking to hop to another world.”

Elan shivered slightly at the idea of something that drove even demons to flee, and Merlin seemed unnervingly quiet as he processed that information.

“That tallies with what little I have been able to hunt down,” Merlin acknowledged finally.

“We have to do something,” Elan said. “They’re doing the same thing here, aren’t they?”

Her last question was accompanied by a glance at the brothers, who both nodded.

“We assumed that’s why you came,” Sindri said. “From what you just said, I assume here isn’t the only location, then?”

“No,” Elan said. “It’s happening . . . elsewhere.”

“Endgame,” Brokkr said flatly.

Sindri just nodded.

“Agreed,” Merlin said to her over the armor. “This must be the demons’ final action, to end the long war for good so that they can move on to other places to conquer.”

“We have to stop them,” Elan said. “I can see what we can do here . . .”

“Caleb and Simone are organizing an attempt on this side. I do not know if they will succeed,” Merlin said. “There are . . . odd things happening at the summoning site.”

“What do you mean, odd things?” Elan asked, again confusing those who couldn’t hear who she was speaking with.

“Odd things?” Jol asked, confused.

“Silence, Jol. Let the lady hear what’s going on,” Sindri said with a grin.

Meanwhile, Merlin had gone on as though they weren’t speaking.

“Animal attacks on the demons have rendered the area extremely hostile,” he told Elan. “Whether Caleb and the others will be able to penetrate that circle without being subject to similar attacks is highly unlikely at this point.”

“Animal attacks?” Elan asked. “Really?”

“Blood wards.” Sindri nodded as he cut in. “They set similar ones here. Those are fundamentally unnatural. They’ll put everything around them with connection to the natural balance into a rage. Even humans will be affected given time. However, it will vary from person to person. The more mastery they have over their instincts, the longer they’ll be able to remain fully in control of themselves.”

“I will warn Caleb,” Merlin said.

“Is he okay?” Elan asked, her voice going quieter.

“He is fine,” Merlin assured her. “His mastery of the armor has a distance to go, but he shouldn’t be a threat to those around him at the moment . . . unlike someone else I can remember.”

Elan’s lips twisted. “You shoved me in the suit and told me good luck. What did you expect?”

“I don’t recall wishing you good luck,” Merlin told her, amused. “I will keep you informed . . .” He paused before saying, “Good luck.”

Elan let out an exasperated noise, rolling her eyes. “He’s such an ass.”

“The elementals all are at times, girl,” Brokkr told her, clearly amused despite not hearing half the conversation. “Comes from the whole eternal thing.”

She narrowed her eyes. “That would explain you two and Kaern, I suppose.”

“Oooh,” Sindri chuckled, “the little girl has a bite to her. We’re not eternal, exactly, but I suppose it’s close enough for you to have a point all the same.”

Elan sighed, looking around as she tried to get her bearings. The massive city was impossible in that regard. Every direction looked the same, and while her armor had compass directions, that meant little to her without landmarks.

“Where is the circle?” she asked finally.

“Back that way,” Jol answered, pointing casually off to the left. “Near where we first met.”

“I know. I followed you from there,” she admitted. “But I can’t seem to keep my bearings in this place.”

“Cities are like that if you don’t know your way around,” Sindri told her. “Jol wouldn’t know the confusion of coming in new, though. He’s never seen anything else.”

Elan just nodded absently as she played around with the display of her armor, trying to get the mapping system to work. When Merlin was paying attention to her, everything just seemed to be where she needed it as it was needed. Now, however, with him splitting his focus, she was continually running into little things that she knew the armor could do but couldn’t seem to get figured out for herself.

She had the common stuff down pretty well, but Elan was learning that there was a lot more to it than she’d thought.

Isn’t this just a lovely time to be working that out?

*****

The prow of the dugout sliced through the waves, sending water spray in all directions and occasionally digging in deep enough to put several inches of water in the bottom of the small boat. Caleb ignored it, letting others bail it out, and focused on paddling.

Oddly, he was finding that his armor-enhanced strength really did nothing for them in terms of added speed. The other boats were easily keeping up, no matter how hard he tried to paddle.

After a few minutes of trying, Simone had made him stop splashing around uselessly and let others with more skill take over..

Still, they seemed to making decent time, despite having to circle around all the islands between them and their target and taking care to approach from the most sheltered side of the demon-infested location. So far they hadn’t encountered any enraged animals either, for which he was eternally grateful.

I do not need to see a shark bigger than this boat.

Sharks were common enough around the old city. Stories were told by the fishermen who helped supply them with food, but he’d never seen one in person. A few dead ones caught by fishermen with more luck than sense, sure, usually small ones back in the city . . . and the one Merlin insisted on showing him when he started talking about how easy it would be to handle while he was wearing armor.

Yeah, that was a theory Caleb was in no hurry to test.

I didn’t know they came that big.

“Elanthielle has acquired news about the target.” Merlin’s voice came from nowhere.

Caleb almost jumped out of the boat.

With the small craft rocking and everyone glaring at him, he steadied himself before responding.

“Don’t do that,” Caleb snapped. “I’m trying to keep my balance here!”

Everyone looked at him like he was crazy, aside from Simone.

“What does he have to say?” she asked, curious.

“He says Elan found out some information. Hang on,” Caleb said. “What information?”

“The standing stones are, indeed, there to open a summoning portal,” Merlin answered. “The elder are likely worse than previously estimated. Her sources indicate that if they succeed in coming through, then it is the final end for this world.”

Caleb paled a bit, swallowing. “Right. Okay, so same mission, maybe just a little more important.” He glanced at Simone. “Elan says that we were pretty much dead-on right with our worst fears.”

Simone grimaced. “Understood.”

That didn’t really help them much, sadly, but it did confirm the importance of what they were doing, which was nice. Caleb was certainly willing to kill demons whenever possible, but potentially revealing their location was a risk . . . even with the possibility of escape through the transport centers.

“Elan is going to attempt to deal with another set of standing stones in Lemuria,” Merlin went on.

“She’s what?”

Caleb hadn’t even considered moderating his voice and succeeded in startling everyone in the five boats until they were all staring at him as progress through the blue-green sea slowed drastically.

“Caleb, what is it?” Simone asked, now worried.

“He says that Elan is going after another one of these circles,” Caleb blurted, eyes wide. “She’s alone in a demon city! That’s crazy!”

Simone shook her head. “That sounds like her, Caleb.”

“I know,” he blurted, “but we should be with her!”

“We cannot be in both places. Deal with the problem here,” Simone said, “and when we can, we will deal with the problem there.”

Caleb didn’t have anything to say to that, and in short order they were moving again as he fell silent and paddled with much less enthusiasm. His mind was, literally, thousands of miles away.

Chapter 16

Jol watched the girl from the corner of his eye as they stood on the edge of a building, overlooking the central square of the city where the stones had been placed. They’d left the docks as quickly as they reasonably could move, attracting too much attention as they did, though Jol suspected that the brothers intended just that. Why they wanted so many useless slaves following them, he had no idea.

Whatever their reason, Jol could feel the eyes of watchers on him from the shadows. He knew they weren’t looking at him. They were focused—as he was—on the girl.

She was younger than he was, but he didn’t think by much. It was hard for him to say, of course, since he had no real idea how old he actually was.

He’d been an orphan as long as he could remember; he grew up on the streets of Lemuria alone until the brothers found him.

Or, rather, he found them and got caught trying to steal some food from them.

Jol smiled reminiscently. As prideful as he now knew himself to be, there was no question that he’d been an arrogant little brat in those days. Surviving by outwitting demons, hiding even from other humans, and generally being a rat in the machine, he had thought he knew it all. The brothers showed him otherwise and taught him to be more than he was, more than he’d ever imagined.

The demon city was a hard place to live for anyone . . . but more so for a human child with no support.

Her story was not an unfamiliar one to him. It mirrored his own in some ways and that of dozens of others he personally knew of . . . …and hundreds or thousands he had heard of. Losing parents to demons was one of the most common stories in the city, probably the world.

Less common was being discovered by someone like the brothers or this Kaern person they spoke of.

For him, the brothers had been a revelation. Not everyone was trying to murder him or worse. Some people actually wanted to help. He didn’t know what the girl thought of Kaern. She’d had parents before the demons came. Jol wondered how that would have affected him. Would he still be the person he was? Or would loving parents have left him one of the slaves, cowering from shadows of demons, begging for life and one more day of food?

She isn’t cowering. Maybe I wouldn’t have been so different than I am now.

That was both a gratifying thought and a depressing one.

The object of his attention shifted, pulling her weapon from her hip and resting it on her knee as she looked over the work progressing on the stones just a short distance away.

“I can destroy the stones from here,” she said. “It’d be simple.”

“Less than you expect, I’ll warrant,” Sindri told her. “Certainly less if the warder down there has prepared the site properly.”

Brokkr half nodded. “Aye, there’s truth there. Still, do you think he has?”

Jol watched as the two brothers considered that for a moment before Sindri shrugged.

“Unknown. A master would have,” he said. “However, a master wouldn’t have used blood to twist the local nature as he has. If he believes that his only threat is the Earth Mother, then he may have left a hole we could exploit.”

Elan looked between then, expression uncertain.

“So do I attack,” she asked, “or not?”

“Not just yet, girl,” Sindri admonished her. “Never strike merely because you can. Strike only when you feel prepared to handle both the strike itself and what comes afterward.”

“And always make sure you have a way out.” Jol spoke up, repeating the end of the lesson he had received many times in the past himself.

Brokkr smiled over in his direction. “Only took you a few hundred times to learn that lesson, boy.”

“I wasn’t that bad,” Jol complained.

“Very nearly,” Brokkr snorted.

Jol felt himself flush and hated his complexion all the more for it, knowing that his face would be blotchy and red; he just hoped that the shadows of the buildings around them would be enough to hide it from Elan. The brothers were a lost hope on that angle, of that he was certain, he’d not be able to hide from them in pitch darkness.

Elan, however, didn’t appear to be paying any attention to him. Instead, she was looking over her shoulder, eyes intent as she scanned the area with a considering gaze.

“I can get away,” she said finally. “There are maps of the buildings available over the security system the old people left behind.”

“You have access to the old grid?” Sindri asked, amused. “That would make the job easier.”

She nodded, looking at them, specifically at Jolinr. “I don’t know about you, though. Some of the paths need . . . strength to travel.”

Jol stiffened, unable to believe for a moment that the little girl there was implying that he might be lacking in strength of all things . . . and then he remembered—with more than his share of chagrin—how easily she’d handled him in their earlier encounter.

Of course, he’d made the mistake of underestimating her then. He’d treated her like a human, rather than a demon, and while she might be human, it was quite clear to him that she was far closer to the demons in terms of power. More so than most, which made him wonder whether he might have a chance if he went all-out from the start and used the skills he’d been mastering since the brothers began training him.

Probably not, Jol decided in a rare moment of honest introspection.

She’d managed to surprise the twins, after all, and he knew that he was nowhere near their level.

Still, she didn’t have to be pointing it out like that.

He sulked a bit.

It was just impolite was what it was.

*****

Commander Korel looked at the scorch marks that adorned the streets of the docks with irritation as his squads scoured the area for witnesses. So far they’d come up empty, which was a good sign that someone had seen what happened and knew that being caught in the area wouldn’t go well for them.

“It’s a human weapon alright, Commander,” his chief arms master growled, walking back to him. “The smell of thunder is still in the air.”

Korel hissed but didn’t dispute that. He could smell it himself and feel the charged energy floating about. The human weapons were distinct, especially the late-war models that stopped holding back their true power.

He had often wondered what would have happened if the humans had waged all-out war from the start, though it seemed unlikely to have affected the outcome. The circles had far too much fodder to throw into the masher for the humans to have had a significant chance, no matter how seriously they took matters at the start.

Not with the massive disadvantage they had begun with. The initial subterfuge of the circles’ assault had been devastating, and he really didn’t think there was anything the humans could have done to come back.

We likely would’ve lost a hundredfold more demons before the war was over, he supposed.

Korel was one demon who refused to underestimate just how much damage even one human could accomplish. He knew that most demons didn’t see humans as much more than food or fodder, and most of them likely were one of those two things. Not one human in a hundred truly stood out in his eyes.

But those who did were monsters the likes of which no demon he had ever known could quite seem to match.

Are you a monster? he silently asked as he looked on the damage done by the human weapon.

One thing was certain: with the standing stones raised to summon the elder and now an authorized human warrior running around the demon city, the endgame of this little drama had just gotten interesting.

“Dispatch a runner to Her Lady,” he ordered the closest demon. “Inform her that she may consider her worries confirmed and tell her that I am now beginning a sweep of the city.”

The demon nodded, waiting only for Korel to gesture before he ran off.

Korel looked back to the arms master. “Teams of no less than ten, Arms Master. Any humans are to be interrogated immediately for anything they might have seen. Someone watched this happen. I want their story.”

“It will be done,” the arms master grunted out before turning to bark out orders to the groups under his command.

Very interesting indeed.

*****

Sindri watched as the girl-child struggled with the task of mapping out a plan to accomplish her task, with the added difficulty of working out her withdrawal path while he and Brokkr took turns poking holes in whatever she suggested. She wasn’t bad, he decided as he watched, just unschooled, which wasn’t something to be surprised about given the days they were living in. With the weapon she carried, though, that lack of schooling would get her, or someone else, killed in short order.

It had only taken a glance between them for Brokkr and him to decide to teach her what they could in what time they had, as they had done with Jol. How much that would be remained to be seen, since he and Brokkr were not long for the dimension, Sindri was certain.

The forsaken, like he, Brokkr, and Kaern, had been fighting this war for a long time, long before humanity in this universe had been a glint in the Creator’s eye. They fought and withdrew ahead of the circles’ advance, rarely seeing a dimension that could stand up to the wave of demons the circles threw into the grinder of war.

When the dimension inevitably fell, they would move along ahead to the next front. Occasionally a few of them died . . . it could happen. Though time would never end the life of the forsaken, violence certainly could. A few others gave up, found some ignored part of creation to shelter in, and tried to ignore the war.

Some turned.

Any who went back to the origin were dead in the eyes of those like the brothers. They’d sacrificed too much against the abominations over the eons, so had no forgiveness in them for those who spat on those sacrifices. forsaken either way, the only question was which side wanted you dead the most.

For Sindri and his brother, they’d long since decided that they would never join the abomination. They would die on their feet someday, but until then they would throw what problems they could into the advance of the circles.

They had already stayed longer than expected in this dimension. In reality, it had been lost a long time earlier after all. The two were among the last of the forsaken to remain in this dimension . . . only perhaps a few thousand, at most, remained . . . it was always hard to say. Those like themselves were almost impossible to tell apart from humans, and they could even infiltrate into the company of lower-circle demons easily enough.

He knew that humans were likely down to a few tens of thousands now, a stunning loss of numbers in their population, but they likely outnumbered forsaken by at least three or four to one even so.

There was a time when we were not even one in ten thousand, Sindri thought as he was filled with melancholy. So many died for the sick, twisted ambitions of that abomination . . . and this is merely one dimension among thousands or more.

He reflexively looked up to the sky, seeking the higher power he knew existed yet no longer responded.

Why? Why so much death? Did you create them just so they could die in droves? Sindri had no answers, only questions. He remembered Eden, during the Golden Era . . . and did not understand how it had all gone so very badly.

*****

On a rooftop some distance from the docks, Elan faced off with the brothers as she tried to convince them of what should be done. She ignored the curious looks from the shadows. People had followed them when they fled the docks . . . likely for the best, since the fight would inevitably draw attention and that would be bad for any who remained behind. But the only people who mattered at the moment were the brothers, and they were driving her mad.

Elan honestly wanted to scream in frustration. No matter what she suggested, one of the two would tear it apart with ease and make her feel foolish in the process. She despised feeling foolish and the way it seemed too easy for people like the brothers here, or Merlin on Avalon, to make her feel that way.

With that in mind, she set every criticism they threw at her to memory and tried to fix the problem in the next idea.

It was a more complicated issue than she’d ever dealt with in the past. Normally she just had to react to what others were doing. This time, she had a chance to be the one who initiated the action, which was something of a novel affair. Unfortunately, it meant she had to think about the best way to do things, rather than just charge in and hope for the best. She’d never had to worry about escape in the past.

The city was a maze the likes of which Elan had never imagined until she’d encountered Lemuria. Buildings towered to the clouds, making her dizzy just thinking about it, blotting out the sun and sky. For demons it was a paradise, leaving plenty of places in shadow for them to lurk from the light of the sun. She wasn’t sure what the advantages for humans were, though there must have been some reason for them to have built such insane constructs.

In any case, the maze of stone and glass and other materials left her with so many options for her proposed attack that she found herself even dizzier than when she had been looking down from the unreal heights.

“What about if we do it this way?” she said finally, laying out yet another option for the brothers to pick apart, with a detailed escape plan that included alternative routes and ambush points to derail any pursuit.

When she was done, Elan waited with flashing eyes as the two short men exchanged glances that seemed to have great meaning.

“Not bad,” Sindri said finally. “It’s a workable option, at the very least.”

Brokkr nodded. “We’ve fought worse plans, that’s true enough.” Then he turned and looked at Elan. “Of course, she hasn’t convinced me that we should fight this one at all. Never was one for hopeless wars, brother, and this is as hopeless as they come.”

Sindri nodded. “There’s truth in that. Whether we fight or run or just curl up here and die, the end result will be the same by my estimation.”

Elan’s expression darkened, her eyes flashing as she glared between the pair.

“Why get up every morning then?” she asked. “I don’t care how old you are, how long you live, we all die someday. So why fight for anything? Curl up and die, if you choose. I’ll fight here and now for no other reason than that I would rather die standing with my foot on a demon’s throat than lying in a bed with a demon’s foot on my own.”

She spun, looking out over the city beyond the rooftop they had chosen to observe from, eyes hot with anger and emotions barely held in check as she thought about what her father had taught her and the touch of her mother’s cheek before the night her life had been changed forever.

“If we don’t fight for what should be ours by right,” she said in a softer voice that nonetheless carried with crystal clarity to everyone listening, “then we may as well be dead already.”

Elan straightened, not turning back, as her eyes now glistened with moisture she had no desire to show.

“So what if the darkness is coming no matter what we do? Rail against it if you choose. Curl up and let it swallow you if that is your preference. Me?” she asked, her armor snapping up around her face, covering it from view as she turned back. “I’ll strike a flame and light the world on fire if that’s the only way to see the darkness end.”

With those words, Elan again turned away from them and simply stepped off the side of the building, dropping several floors down to a landing and then leaping away.

“Well, brother,” Sindri said, amused, “I think we may have pushed a little too far that time.”

Brokkr looked at him dryly. “Really? What gives you that idea?”

Jolinr, however, wasn’t amused.

The big man gripped his hammer up in his hand and glowered at them as he marched over to the edge of the roof.

“And where do you think you’re going?” Brokkr asked.

“To light the world on fire,” Jolinr growled, following the girl . . . …albeit via a less spectacular and far less risky route.

“Do you think that’ll be enough?” Sindri asked softly, shifting his focus slightly to pay attention to the others who had been listening.

Brokkr shrugged as he too sought out the witnesses to the girl’s explosion. There were fewer there now than had followed them from the docks. He hoped that they would wake up, stand on two feet rather than be the sheep they had become, but he was doubtful and unwilling to raise his hopes by much.

“I don’t know,” he admitted, “but if it isn’t, then they’re not worth fighting for anyway. Let’s be about it, brother.”

Sindri nodded, drawing a weapon he hadn’t unsheathed in a long time, grinning as he did. “One last fight before the end comes to this world then? Sounds like fun.”

*****

Ser’Goth paced her suite, unable to shake the feeling that had been growing since she’d heard the news from the docks.

An authorized human warrior hadn’t existed on this world for well over a century, quite likely a lot longer than that. The last confirmed encounter with such had ended in the annihilation of said warrior, along with nearly three-quarters of a lord’s legion, just over three and a half centuries earlier.

Since then, they’d been the monsters whispered about after the sun rose, usually to frighten gullible demons.

Now she had one in her city, just as they entered the point of no return with the elder summoning.

Ser’Goth had to admire the fates, vicious bitches that they were. They knew how to turn a blade after they drove it home.

She stopped, making a decision as she turned toward the door and strode out with clear purpose in her strides. “Aides! To me, and bring my armor.”

Whatever was going on, there was only one real thing of import in the city at this time. If anything was going to happen, it would happen at the standing stones, and when it did, she intended to be there to deal with it.

Her aides met her at the front hall, her armor already polished and prepared as several aides waited for her to step into the greaves and have them strapped in carefully.

It had been a long time since she’d worn her gear of war with intent, she realized as a calm sensation settled over her. The layered metalwork of the bodice covered more flesh than Ser’Goth preferred, but armor was its purpose, and though she needed far less than lesser beings, proper defense of certain organs still mattered. Bracers and other accoutrements finished up the ensemble, and in a few moments she was ready to face what might come.

Ser’Goth accepted her blade from a servant, belting the heavy weapon to her side as she stepped out of the suite and headed for the nearest balcony. Wings spread wide as she walked out and off into space, dropping a few dozen feet before she started to glide easily away from the tower, turning toward where she knew the standing stones had been established.

I’ve come too far to allow anyone to ruin my plans now, she thought grimly. Especially not some hopped-up monkey with delusions of adequacy.

*****

Elan landed on an exposed ledge that overlooked the standing stones, still fuming as she checked her surroundings for any sign that she’d been spotted.

The demons of the city seemed uninterested in the area around them, as if they were supremely confident of their position and as relaxed as one of their type could manage. She pretty much assumed that was exactly what they felt, and she fully intended to take advantage of it while she could.

Elan forced herself to calm down, using breathing techniques from the book as she surveyed the area more carefully, taking note of every demon she could see and what they were up to.

The human slaves were still on-site as well, but they were huddled off in a guarded area now instead of actively working. Elan briefly wondered why they were still holding them there if there was no more work for them to do but decided that it didn’t much matter, and in all likelihood she didn’t really want to know.

A scraping sound behind her caused Elan to shift, drawing her sidearm partially before she recognized Jol as he dropped into place beside her. She looked at the well-muscled man for a moment, then beyond him to the path he must have followed to catch up to her, and was impressed. She’d not have dared try what he had done, not without her armor at least.

“They’re just testing you, you know?” Jol said earnestly as he caught himself and rested briefly against the side of the building.

“It doesn’t matter,” Elan said after a moment’s thought. “Whether they’re testing or serious, I’m still going to do what I’m here to do.”

Jol nodded, rapping his hammer twice on the side of the building. “My arm and hammer are with you. I’ve lived my life under the heel of the demons, and if this is the end either way . . . I’ll go out lighting a fire against the dark.”

Elan just nodded, turning her focus back to the standing stones.

“I’m going to try to destroy them the easy way,” she said, patting the sidearm on her hip. “If that works, then we can withdraw quietly before they have any idea we were even here.”

Jol nodded, understanding.

It took her several more minutes to make certain that everything was as close to being in order as it could be before she drew her sidearm and started picking targets along the circle of standing stones. If the brothers were right, then destroying those would certainly delay the action, if not entirely stop it, and that would be enough for her.

“I’m going to fire,” she said softly. “Get ready.”

“I’m ready,” Jol said from beside her.

Elan hefted the weapon, watching the target information float across her eyes as she steadied it. Her finger tightened around the firing controls just as movement caught her eye, and she did a bit of a double take as she saw a flying figure swoop in.

“What the . . .?” Elan blurted softly as the flying figure landed not far from the captive slaves.

“It’s her,” Jol said, his tone stricken and broken enough to cause Elan to turn to look at him.

The big man was pale, with wide eyes as he stared in naked fear at the winged demon below.

“Her?” Elan asked, confused more than anything as she examined the rather obviously female demon.

“Ser’Goth,” Jol whispered, almost fearfully, causing Elan to glance sharply at him again. “Her Ladyship, the Lady of the City. She . . . rules everyone here.”

“She doesn’t rule me,” Elan said firmly, extending her weapon again, only to pause and frown slightly as she spotted something else change. “Now what?”

The demons were pushing the human slaves out of the area they were in, forcing them closer to the standing stones.

“I . . . I don’t know,” Jol admitted, looking more confused now than afraid. “I’ve . . . oh no.”

“What?” Elan demanded. “What is it?”

“It’s a sacrifice,” he said in a sickly tone of voice. “I’ve never seen one this big, but they’re going to kill them all.”

Elan’s face twisted as she considered their odds, but she saw no way to possibly save them. She couldn’t just let them die, though, and made her decision in that moment without further hesitation.

“I’m going to take out the stones,” she said, “and then as many demons as I can. If you see an opening, get them out of here.”

“But . . . there’s nowhere in the city to hide from the demons—or . . . her.”

“We’ll solve that problem later,” Elan said as her weapon came up, her arm extending it out. “Die on your feet or die on your knees. Make a choice.”

Her sidearm fired the first of several negative matter charges even as she started moving, stepping off the ledge and dropping the twenty-odd feet to the ground, leaving Jol to make his choice.

Chapter 17

Ser’Goth landed easily in the giant square that sat at the center of the city, a shiver running down her spine as she sensed something . . . off in the air around the stones that had been erected. She pushed the feeling aside, figuring that it was likely just the power of the runic carvings being charged to capacity, and turned to meet the overseer and his two aides as they ran out to meet her.

She ignored the three at first, looking over the square with judgmental eyes. All things seemed to be in order, but still she could not shake the feeling that something was very, very wrong.

Finally Ser’Goth turned to the overseer and glared down at the shorter demon. “Report.”

Shaking very slightly, the overseer nodded vigorously as he wrung his hands.

“All things are as expected, my lady,” the overseer insisted in a nervous, high-pitched tone that did nothing to soothe her worries.

Ser’Goth ignored the nervous demon and his attempts at placating her, instead opting to walk past him and sweep her eyes across the standing stones that lay before her. There was something she didn’t recognize there, something she didn’t like the feel of, but she was uncertain what it was.

“What remains to be accomplished?” Ser’Goth demanded without looking over her shoulder at the overseer.

If anything, that made the small demon even more nervous. The wringing of his hands and the slight tics to his features stood out even more as he stepped up beside her and cast a glance out over the square himself.

“My lady,” he stammered out, “the bl . . . runes need to be charged yet. The power of the city is not what it once was. Natural charging from the ley will take much longer than expected.”

“Unacceptable,” Ser’Goth growled, now turning to look at him with fire in her eyes. “Charge the runes. Now.”

The overseer gulped. “We will have to move up the sacrifice.”

“Are the slaves here sufficient?” she demanded.

The overseer nodded vigorously, seemingly unwilling to trust his voice.

“Then do so.”

The overseer nodded again and fell back, turning on his heel as he rushed over to deliver the orders. Wails went up from the gathered slaves as their guard started to push them out into the square. Ser’Goth ignored all of it as she looked upon the stones, the little tremor of uncertainty still eating at her.

She hadn’t figured out what was wrong when a flash of light and a blur of motion in the corner of her eye caused her to twist into a half crouch. An unfamiliar sound washed over her, niggling at some half-buried memory as her sharp eyes spotted three gleaming and pulsing orbs flying through the air toward the stones.

The runic wards hummed with power in response, and the orbs slowed rapidly to a halt until they were floating in the air just fifty feet away. Ser’Goth frowned as she slowly straightened back up and cocked her head to the left, looking at the orbs as they pulsed and hummed louder and louder in place.

The memory suddenly locked in, and she realized what she was looking at as her eyes widened and she instinctively lifted up a hand in her own defense. “Everyone down!”

She didn’t even manage to finish her warning before the magnetic containment of the negative matter particles failed in midair. Atmospheric molecules rushed in, contacting the negatively charged deuterium particles and self-annihilating. The flash explosion tore across the square with the force of a hurricane wind and a thunderclap loud and powerful enough to throw everyone but her to the ground.

Ser’Goth’s wings were pushed back, flapping painfully in the gale-force winds as her impromptu magical field sheltered her from the worst of the effects. There was a brief pause, silence as the air in the square was thinned by the force of the explosion, then the lower pressure sucked air back in from the city with nearly equal force. She remained planted in place by sheer will alone, while around her demons and humans alike were being rolled and tossed like leaves in the storm.

As the maelstrom calmed, she looked around for the source of the attack. Motion against one of the buildings caught her eye, and Ser’Goth turned as a figure broke out of the shadows and charged into the square. Forewarned by recognizing the nature of the attack, she had no issue determining just what she was facing now.

The figure was slim and shorter than she was expecting, but the armor was distinctive, and she had no doubts that she was looking at an authorized human warrior.

Ser’Goth saw the weapon extend in her direction and reacted instinctively as it fired again, three more pellets of negative matter spitting right after. Tapping into the arcane, she extended her hands out just as the pellets tore through the air directly after. Shimmer pulsed out from her, and this time under her own power rather than that of the runic wards, the pellets froze in midair.

She looked past the frozen death, straight at the figure who’d fired upon her, and snarled as she twisted her hands and then snapped them out, sending death back to its instigator.

*****

Elan was stunned almost into indecision as her attack was again frozen in midair, this time by the large demoness with only a flick of her taloned hands. So stunned was she that she almost reacted too late as the pellets were flung back in her direction.

Unable to check her charge, Elan let her back and head bend away as her legs ran on, forward-kicking up and into the air. The first pellet flashed by her face only inches from her visor. As she twisted to avoid the second, it clipped by her shoulder. She continued into a full backflip, narrowly avoiding the third as it tore past her right knee.

Completing the flip, Elan landed on her knees in a fast skid across the stone as she mentally commanded her weapon to change.

Sliding the last few feet to her target, Elan swung her blade up and stabbed with as much power as she could at the lower torso of the large demon.

She came to a jarring stop as the demon leaned in and clapped her large hands together, trapping the black blade in place and driving the pommel back into Elan’s armored chest.

The girl stared up, eyes wide behind the armored visor as she stared directly into the flaming gaze of the seven-foot-tall, winged demon glowering right back at her.

“You have caused me a great deal of trouble, little pest,” the azure-skinned demoness growled in a guttural tone that vibrated with power. “It is long past time that I dealt with you in person.”

Elan really had nothing to say in response to that, so instead, she pulled hard on the pommel of her blade and used the leverage to lash out with a kick to the demon’s right knee. The strike landed home, buckling the knee inward and causing the demoness to stumble and lose her grip on Elan’s blade. Now free, Elan twisted her feet back under her and jackknifed upright, already swinging the carbon-black weapon at the demon’s throat with killing intent.

However, the demon recovered quicker than Elan would have thought possible and merely began twisting casually out of the path of the blade and stepping back as Elan weaved a complex pattern of attacks with each step forward.

After several seconds and just as many strikes, the demon seemed to grow bored of the action and casually avoided a slash with ease before stepping into Elan and shouldering aside the next strike with a blow to Elan’s inner arm. With her attack frozen in place by the counter, Elan tried to move back to clear enough room to try again, but she was too late to avoid the low strike that slammed into her sternum and lifted her feet right off the ground from the force alone.

Eyes bulging inside her armor, Elan barely heard the sneering tone as the demon held her there with a single hand, talons curling into the armor just sufficiently to allow her a purchase on the smooth surface.

“Pitiful,” the demon mocked. “I expected more, to be honest. I know not where you came by that armor, but it is clear that . . . authorized or not, you are no human warrior. Those who wore that before you would be ashamed of your showing.”

Elan struggled to lift her weapon as she was held there in the air, but even as the carbon blade rose up, the demon seemed to make a decision. The winged demon’s free hand cocked back as she drew in a sharp breath and then snapped forward in a blow so fast that Elan didn’t even recognize something had happened before the world just exploded around her.

The expulsion of breath in a demonic war cry was followed almost instantly by a smashing force that blew Elan clear out of the demon’s grip, throwing her back in a spinning arc as red filled her vision. Her flight came to an abrupt halt as Elan smashed into the stone of the building behind her hard enough to leave a spiderweb of cracks from the impact as she slowly slid to the ground and fell forward onto her face.

For an interminable time, Elan lay there, groaning and entirely uncertain as to what had just happened, let alone how she might recover from it. The armor kept her breathing, even as her chest and lungs screamed in pain with each influx of oxygen, but there was little more she could do but just lie there and twitch.

She heard the clacking sound of nails against stone and managed to twist enough in place to see the demon stalking slowly and purposely in her direction. Will alone allowed her to slowly roll over and get her legs under her as she climbed to her knees. She was almost unsteadily ready to climb to her feet when the demon arrived in front of her and casually backhanded her with enough force to the helmet to throw Elan in a rolling sprawl over a dozen feet to her left.

Stunned and hurting, Elan flopped over onto her back from her side and stared up at the sky through the cage of the tall spires of the city buildings. Everything was going black around the periphery of her vision, but directly above her the sky was blue. It struck her oddly then that it was a nice day, a strange thought to be having in the center of the demon-infested city.

She again heard the footsteps clacking against the stone and knew she had to move.

She just didn’t know if she had the strength.

Her muscles screamed as she forced herself over onto her side and then got both arms underneath her and pushed. Elan again got to her knees, on all fours as she fought the urge to void her stomach. It seemed a bad idea with the visor sealed over her face. Of course, it was also possible that she simply didn’t have the strength to throw anything up at that point. Everything hurt so badly that she didn’t know if any of her muscles were fit for something as exerting is vomiting.

She was still trying to gather the strength to climb up off her knees when she heard the cadence of the approaching footsteps grow quicker. Elan managed to twist her head and look at her foe just as the rushing demon entered her charge with a vicious kick that caught Elan directly in the midsection. The force of the blow lifted her off the ground in a high arc that peaked almost twenty feet in the air before reversing and sending her crashing back to the stone square.

Now unable to move aside from involuntary twitching, Elan watched from her back as the demon approached with a more casual gait.

The azure-skinned demon came to a stop and stood over her, looking down with something between amusement and almost pity. Elan wanted to curse, to strike out, to do anything, say anything, but she simply didn’t have the strength. So instead she just lay there as the demon bent over, reached down, and closed her talons around Elan’s head.

Elan felt her body being lifted from the stone by the grip on her helmet, her feet dragging until they too were lifted clear from the ground. The demon’s other hand reached up and wrapped around her throat, taking up some of the strain, while all her body could do was hang limply underneath.

Stress cracks suddenly appeared in her visor as the demon’s hand closed tightly, talons popping through the armor as spiderweb fractures raced across the surface. The material screamed as the demon pulled her hand back and tore into the visor and helmet, exposing Elan’s face.

Elan found herself face-to-face with the azure-skinned demoness, staring at each other from mere inches apart. The demon grinned widely as she leaned in, laughing darkly in a guttural tone that practically vibrated with power.

“You’re a child,” she said with some wonder, “just a mere child. How, I wonder, did you ever manage to acquire the weapons you have? You play with things you cannot possibly understand, and it shows all too well.”

She tossed the fractured visor to the ground, letting it clatter across the stone without a thought as she reached back up to slowly pass a single talon across Elan’s face.

“Pretty little thing,” she said, amused. “Another time, child, I would have enjoyed . . . entertaining you. As things stand, however, I sadly don’t have time.”

She lifted Elan a little higher by the throat and slammed her talons into the carbon armor, tearing at the material until it gave way and sheared apart. Piece by piece, the armor was removed, leaving Elan wearing only scraps and the undershirt she had worn since Kaern presented it to her what felt like a lifetime earlier.

Elan forced her breathing to calm, forced down the terror that gibbered in her hindbrain, and tried to remember what the book had told her. She reached down deep into herself, looking for the power that the book had assured her was there but she had not yet been able to find for herself. Power she now needed desperately.

Your toys will fail you when you need them most, child.

By definition, when they fail . . . will be when you need them most.

All the warnings she’d heard from Kaern, the brothers, and Simone echoed in her mind as she felt a single talon dig into her neck and draw blood.

After everything, Elan couldn’t believe that it was going to end like this. Uselessly, surrounded by demons, and unable to do a damn thing about it.

Stink of prophecy.

What total nonsense.

Elan hung limply as the demoness licked her blood off a talon, smiling widely.

“Tasty, child. Very tasty,” the demoness told her. “Not really my food of choice, but you would be a tender morsel for many of my subordinates. You might even enjoy the ministrations of some of them, though that is something of a long shot. Humans are such interesting creatures, after all. Still, you’ve caused enough trouble . . . now say goodbye, child.”

No.

Elan opened her eyes and looked into the glowing eyes of the demon.

Not like this.

She refused.

The black future would not come to pass if it was within her power.

She refused.

Elan reached deeper, breaking through the emptiness she had always found, and there it was.

Power.

*****

Ser’Goth jerked her head back as the child’s eyes suddenly blazed with white light so pure it burned her own red glowing orbs. The girl in her grip twisted just as suddenly, cocking her arm back, and a word of power tore from the child’s throat as her arm struck out to hammer Ser’Goth’s sternum.

The shock of hearing a human utter a word of power stunned her almost as much as the force behind the surprise blow as she felt herself lifted off her feet and blown back away from her prey. Ser’Goth lost her grip on the little human as the pair were blown apart, and she was thrown hard into the wall of a building across the way with enough force to crack the glossy stonework before she tumbled to the ground.

Ser’Goth caught herself on one knee, bracing her hand against the ground as she looked up to see the human fall face-first into the stone ground after bouncing off the opposite building herself.

Well, that was unexpected, the demoness thought as she rose to her feet and started to march back across the way.

A human using even a single word of power was almost unknown. There were stories, of course—stories existed for everything—but aside from those far-fetched legends, so far as she was aware, this had never once happened.

Ser’Goth moved more cautiously now, but it seemed that wasn’t necessary as she approached the unmoving human. The girl’s last blow had taken everything she had to give, it seemed, and she was on the ground and semiconscious at best.

Ser’Goth knelt by the child’s body and wrapped her left hand in the girl’s hair, dragging her upright while watching for any sign the girl was faking. Her eyes were barely open and rolling listlessly, causing Ser’Goth to snort.

“Impressive, child,” she said, her tone smoother as she was tapping less of her demonic strengths. “I retract my earlier critiques. Your forebears should be proud. Now, however, it is time for you to meet them.”

Ser’Goth drew a wickedly curved dagger from her bodice armor and brought the weapon up to the child’s throat. It was almost a pity to slay what might make an impressive servant and eventually even more impressive demon herself, but now wasn’t the time to be playing with risks.

The blade of the dagger had just brushed the child’s throat when a blur of motion caught Ser’Goth by surprise. She started to turn just as a blinding pain and hammering blow struck her jaw and sent her stumbling.

That broke bone! she thought, stunned by having been blindsided by the blow. She stumbled away, clearing room between herself and her attacker as she blindly warded off further assault with her free hand, but nothing happened. In a few moments she managed to straighten and blink the pain from her eyes as she cast around for the source of the attack.

*****

Jolinr couldn’t believe what he’d just done.

I struck her!

He was almost sick to his stomach at the thought. He’d been at the lady’s nonexistent mercy for so long, the idea of having attacked her evoked an actual physical response. He ruthlessly shoved it down as he knelt by Elan’s body and shook her desperately.

“You have to get up!” he hissed urgently. “She’ll recover! We need to get out of here now!”

Elan groaned, twitching a little as she tried to wake from her stupor. Jol shook her again, urging her as best he could, trying to get her to move.

He wasn’t prepared for the dry laughter that sounded over his urging, sending a chill down his spine as he looked up to see her, the object of so many of his emotions for so very long, looking at him from a couple of dozen feet away with an amused expression.

“Well, well, well,” Ser’Goth laughed, hiding a bit of a wince as she rubbed her jaw where Jol had struck her with all the strength he could muster to put behind his hammer. “So the handsome human toy finally grew a pair, did he?”

Ser’Goth cocked her head to one side, looking between Jol and Elan.

“Was it her?” the demoness asked, looking mockingly hurt. “I’m surprised at you, Jol. That little slip of a girl is somehow more to your taste than I am? I’m hurt, truly.”

Jol ignored the way the demoness rubbed her free hand across her body as she spoke, wrapping his own hand around the handle of his hammer and dragging it across the stone ground as he rose to his feet and stood over Elan’s fallen form.

“You need to get up,” he hissed downward. “You need to get away.”

Elan moaned, shifting slightly as she tried to move. He chose to take that as her having heard him and turned his focus to Her Ladyship, a grim expression on his face.

“After everything I’ve done for you, everything I’ve overlooked,” Ser’Goth said, smiling at him, “you choose to pick another girl over me, Jol? How . . . ungrateful.”

Jol summoned up all the rage he felt, using it to overpower the fear that even in his pride he had never been able to completely banish in her presence.

“I’ve been wanting this for a long time,” he forced himself to say and was inordinately pleased to find that his voice didn’t shake as he did.

He just lifted his hammer and took a deep breath as he faced off against her, settling himself as he felt his fears empty out of him and a fierce excitement replace it.

I should have done this a long time ago, he realized.

“My pretty little boy is all grown up,” Ser’Goth said mockingly as she began walking toward him, adding an intentional sway to her hips that hadn’t been there before.

A growl distracted them both, and they glanced around to see the demons that had been blown off their feet by the explosion of the initial attack closing in on them. Jol shifted his grip and twisted as he tried to keep them all in sight but was surprised when Ser’Goth shouted out to them all.

“Leave him!” she ordered, her expression fierce now. “He is mine.”

The demons paused, then stepped back as Jol turned his focus back to her, and she began to close on him again.

“Oh, Jol.” She smiled at him. “You didn’t think I’d let anyone else have the entertainment of killing you, did you? After all the times I watched you kill those lesser demons, all the times I wondered if you would finally grow a pair big enough to try your hand at killing me? Oh no, this is a day I have been long grooming you for, Jol.”

She grinned, practically ear to ear, her sharp teeth on display as she spread her wings and arms wide but didn’t stop her approach.

“Come on, then, Jol!” she shouted. “Entertain me!”

Jol waited for her to be less than ten feet away before he moved, then he lunged forward while swinging his hammer in an overhand blow that was as powerful as it was obvious. He made no effort to hide his intent, fully expecting her to be entirely contemptuous of his strength and make no endeavor to dodge.

He was proven correct as Ser’Goth lazily intercepted his blow on her arm, a flash of light and a powerful crack startling them both as she was driven back a step. Jol pulled back his hammer and swung again.

Ser’Goth was not so cavalier on the second blow, using her other arm to deflect it as she moved slightly out of the way, eyes wide as she followed the path of the hammer.

“That was a runic weapon!” she hissed, startled out of her confidence briefly. “Where did a human like you get a runically enhanced weapon?”

Jol said nothing. He merely stepped in closer and swung again, battering at her defense and driving her back another step.

“Answer me!” Ser’Goth’s voice dropped into the reverberating and guttural tone as she began digging deeply into her own demonic powers. She drew her long blade in preparation of showing the boy who he was truly dealing with.

Jol merely grinned as he pressed the attack.

*****

Ser’Goth was infuriated as she deflected blow after blow, careful now not to meet the hammerblows straight on, as she was certain both her jaw and forearm were fractured. Both were already knitting themselves together, of course, but the fact that a human in her city had acquired a runic weapon without her being aware was absolutely unacceptable!

This human had been within arm’s reach of her more times than she could count, even! If he’d actually developed a spine and a modicum of cunning, he might have been able to kill even her with a properly placed blow.

Unlikely, but possible.

“Answer me, Jolinr!” she snarled, batting his strike aside. “What abysmally stupid, and soon to be dead, fool gave you a runic weapon?”

Infuriatingly, the young man was calmly ignoring her. Worse, he appeared to actually be enjoying himself!

This was completely the wrong way around. She was supposed to be the one entertained by this, not the human of all people. Roaring, her rage building to nigh uncontrollable levels, Ser’Goth went on the attack.

She battered her way through Jol’s nearly nonexistent defenses, slapping his attacks aside as she stepped into him and slashed at his face with outstretched talons.

The redheaded human had anticipated her, however, and evaded by diving clear and rolling along the ground to where he came back to his feet some distance away. She turned, stomping after him, but he merely evaded her again, with a casual air about him that just stoked her fury.

“You’re a dead man, Jolinr!” she snarled, chasing him around in circles. “You will tire long before I do, and when you do, I will take you apart a limb at a time. You know I will!”

*****

Elan was floating, barely aware of herself enough to realize that she was somewhere similar to the dreaming again. She didn’t know if it was the dreaming, however. Her senses seemed muffled, and there was a pounding in her head that just wouldn’t go away.

That is the concussion.

Elan blinked, wondering where that thought had come from. What is a concussion anyway? she wondered. It was the second time she’d had one, but she couldn’t remember if Merlin had ever told her what exactly it was.

A moment later, she knew. A flash of human physiology and the inside of her own brain had unfolded before her eyes, and she was disgustingly aware of the bruising in her own skull. Honestly, she could have done without that.

Apologies.

There. That stray thought again. Elan was almost certain that it wasn’t her own that time, even though it seemed to originate with her. Where had that come from?

The book.

The book? Elan frowned. Wait. The book? But it was back in Avalon.

The book is where it is needed. Where it chooses to be. Always. Now and forever.

Elan had no idea where she was getting these thoughts, but another more important memory came to her as she realized just how she had arrived where she was.

Jol!

He was fighting . . . she had been fighting. The demoness.

Elan stiffened as remembrance and realization set in. She had to get back!

A flood of images rushed across her mind, including a memory of how she had performed that single effective strike against the demon. Elan was shocked at what she’d managed, having been almost unconscious at the time.

Awake you have become. I can show you so much more now.

Elan shook her head, trying to look around to see if she could find another source for the voice in her head besides herself. There was no one else present, but that wasn’t much of a surprise since as far as she could see, there was nothing else present. She was surrounded by darkness on all sides, above and below.

She didn’t know where she was, but she did know that she had to wake up. She needed to get moving; otherwise everyone was going to die . . . or worse.

Agreed. Twice awake you will be now. Go.

Elan awoke.

Chapter 18

The world was pain.

That was as close as Elan could get to describing the feeling as she started away, the hard, cold stone of the city square pressing into her cheek as remnants of her armor bit into her leg and side. Pain or not, she was still alive, which was better than she expected.

She bit her lip as she tried to get up, pain screaming at her from so many places it all melded together into one big blur of agony. She got her knees under her and then planted her hands flat on the ground, ignoring the pain as she pushed off. Her head felt like someone was banging on the inside of it, trying to get out, but she ignored it as best she could as she voided her stomach.

Ugh. Elan moaned unintelligibly. This is a familiar feeling I could do without.

Digestive acids spattered the stone as she got to her feet, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand and looking around.

Elan blinked away the blurry film that coated her eyes and found herself staring in astonishment at Jol as the powerfully built redhead engaged the tall demon woman in battle with the short stone hammer he always carried. She started forward to help him but staggered as a wave of dizziness swept over her. While she was looking at the ground, trying to breathe and not fall over, Elan realized that she didn’t know where her weapon was.

Twisting, slowly enough to avoid another wave of dizziness, Elan cast about, trying to get her bearings and find her sidearm. The compact weapon of her forebears was nowhere to be seen.

Where is it? she wondered as she looked around herself.

Before she could find it, however, Elan’s attention was drawn to the surrounding crowd that had formed a giant circle around the two combatants. Mostly demons and mostly looking eager to get involved. Elan had a bad feeling that any withdrawal plan she might’ve had was now both incredibly important and totally useless.

They’re everywhere, she realized as she looked about. Interspersed within the demons were some of the human slaves, watching with those creepy dead eyes devoid of hope, as though they had no interest in who won or who lost. The outcome for them was already set.

Elan clenched her fists as her eyes darted back and forth, seeking something—a way out, a way through, a way to accomplish what she’d set out to do, or simply a way to escape so she could try again another time. With her arm hopelessly damaged and now being surrounded on all sides with her back literally against a wall, she found none of those things.

Concussion aside, Elan almost jumped clear out of her skin when a quiet voice whispered almost in her ear.

“Amusing how fast everything goes to, pardon the pun, the hells, isn’t it?”

She turned and did a double take, surprised that the two brothers had gotten so close to her and yet not been noticed just a few seconds earlier when she had been actively looking about.

“Where did you two come from?”

“Been here all along, girl,” Brokkr told her with a grunt. “Fine mess you make of things, I’ll say. Should have backed off the second Her Ladyship arrived, or at least got a clue when your first barrage was stopped. There are times when pressing the attack is just plain stupidity, child.”

“If you’re not going to help, just shut up,” Elan snarled, “and tell me where my weapon is.”

Sindri snorted. “Lot of good it did you the first time. What do you expect to get from it now?”

Elan, fighting a headache the likes of which she’d only felt once before, was not in a mood for any oblique attempts at teaching her a lesson.

“Look, if you have something positive to add, just spit it out,” she snapped. “If not, just back off.”

She returned to looking for her weapon, opting to ignore the brothers as she searched. Finally she spotted the carbon-black blade of the sword, jammed into the wall of the building not too far away. Elan staggered over and grabbed the hilt, pulling on it with all her strength, only to find that it refused to budge.

She hissed angrily, planting her feet on the wall, and pulled until her entire body was trying to break the blade loose but succeeded only in making her headache worse.

“Hurts, doesn’t it?” Sindri asked, walking up behind her as she slumped over the jammed weapon.

“What does?” Elan asked, grumpy and pissed off.

“Being strong,” he answered, “being superhuman . . . and then losing it.”

“I don’t care about that,” she snarled. “I just want my sword.”

Sindri chuckled as though nothing was happening around them, casually wrapping his hand around the hilt of the carbon blade and jerking it loose with an easy motion. He then held it out to her, a mocking smile on his face.

Elan grabbed it from him and turned around, swaying as dizziness hit her again.

“I need to stop getting hit in the head,” she groaned.

“Aye, that would be a good place to start,” Sindri told her, amused.

Elan blinked away the fog and dizziness, looking around to see that the circle of demons still hadn’t closed on them. “What are they waiting for?”

Sindri looked around casually, leaning back against the wall. “Herself wants to kill Jol personally, and she ordered them back. A little foolish of her, but demons are like that. Take things personal, even when they aren’t. There’s a good lesson for you, girl, you know. If you live through this . . . don’t take it personal. It’ll always lead you to a bad end.”

“It doesn’t get any more personal,” Elan said, her voice numb. “They killed my parents. They slaughtered my people. What about this isn’t personal?”

“It’s only personal if you let it be.” Sindri shrugged. “Everyone kills to live; everyone dies. Does it really matter if some die now, instead of later?”

“Yes, it matters!” she snapped, turning to glare at him.

“Why?”

“What?”

Sindri laughed openly at the confusion on her face. “It’s not a complicated question. Just one word even. Why? I don’t see the difference . . . death is death. Whether you die now or in a hundred years . . . to the universe, there’s really no difference.”

Elan hissed, hefting her blade as she turned away from him. “The universe can go to the hells. I choose what matters to me.”

Sindri watched, an amused look on his face as the girl strode away from him, intent on the fight unfolding between Jol and the Lady of the Demon City.

“She has spunk, I’ll give her that much,” Brokkr offered as he appeared beside Sindri. “No brains to speak of, but spunk.”

“The Creator gave them free will, not intellect or knowledge,” Sindri replied, chuckling. “They earned that on their own.”

“Stole it, you mean,” Brokkr snorted.

Sindri shrugged. “Really, it was more a matter of receiving stolen goods, if you ask me. Hard to blame them for it, really, no matter what the Creator and the Nim said. It was theirs by rights anyway, in my thoughts.”

“Too bad they couldn’t handle it when they had it. None of what occurred after would have happened if they could.”

“The abomination wasn’t on them,” Sindri said sharply. “That one caused all this, not them.”

“You think they weren’t responsible?” Brokkr asked. “Never pegged him as insane until after they changed, you know.”

“Still not their responsibility,” Sindri said. “They can’t be responsible for how someone else acts.”

“Yeah, well, it hardly matters much anymore, does it?”

“No, I don’t suppose it does.”

*****

“Growing tired already?” Ser’Goth asked mockingly as she evaded Jolinr’s swings easily, his weapon being surprisingly powerful but slow and easy to read.

Jol was looking frustrated as he panted, hanging back a little more than he had earlier, giving her room to move. She took advantage of it, circling him to the left as she waited for Jol to make his next move. He attacked predictably, just as expected, and with the extra distance he’d foolishly offered her, Ser’Goth had time to flex her wings powerfully.

The force of the displaced air slid her to one side as Jol passed, exposing his left flank to Ser’Goth’s counterstrike. She sneered and lunged in to drive her blade home, only to be stunned when a matte black blade came out of nowhere to intercept her.

If she hadn’t been so irritated by losing the chance to end the life of her previous toy, she would have been more amused by the fierce look on the blonde child’s face as she glared up at her from across the trembling blade barely holding Ser’Goth’s own at bay.

“Are you still here?” Ser’Goth asked, glowering down at the girl.

“Not going anywhere until you’re dead on the ground,” the girl had the sheer nerve to reply, “and those stones are rubble.”

Ser’Goth laughed. “Delusional and optimistic. I always did enjoy that in you baseline humans.”

A flicker of motion caught her attention, and Ser’Goth casually drew her dagger in her free hand and blocked the hammerblow directed at her from her open flank.

“Really, Jol, after everything we’ve meant to one another, you try to kill me unawares?” she drawled. “I rather thought better of you, what with that human honor and all.”

“Sorry to disappoint,” Jolinr growled.

“Oh, my boy,” Ser’Goth smiled widely, “the only disappointment is that you didn’t try to kill me in my bedchamber. I would have made your death so much more enjoyable if you had managed to find the balls to make your play there.”

*****

Elan looked between the demon and Jol, confused by the demoness’s statement until she realized that Jol was unwilling to meet her eyes when she looked in his direction. Her mind clicked on the words, and instantly she felt her own face flushing with blood.

“You . . . and she?” Elan blurted, looking askance at Jol.

Still bright red, Jolinr grimaced. “It isn’t like that . . . not really. She’s just hard to . . . say no to?”

Elan grimaced, her expression one of total disgust. “Really? She’s a demon!”

“A demon in the bedchamber, why, yes, I am.” The demoness grinned at the pair.

“Look, it’s really complicated, alright?” Jol tried to defend himself. “I mean, really, really complicated.”

Ser’Goth laughed, vastly amused by the situation. “Really it wasn’t, you know. Tab D into slot V, pretty much the same as with humans.”

“That’s not what I meant!”

“It wasn’t?” Ser’Goth asked, mockingly surprised. “Oh my, terribly sorry. I didn’t mean to embarrass you in front of your new girlfriend here.”

Elan hissed, angling her blade to slide the demon’s weapon off it as she stepped in and planted a right cross into her jaw. Flesh smacked loudly against flesh and bone. Elan groaned in pain as her knuckles felt like they’d just broken against an iron slab, but she was rewarded by a similar groan and wince from her target.

“Ow,” Ser’Goth said laconically, making her rethink just how effective the strike had been. “I think my jaw is still broken; otherwise I can’t imagine feeling that little love tap, child. If you wanted to take Jol’s place, you really only needed to ask. I don’t mind playing with little girls like you.”

Elan’s eyes blazed as she kicked into Ser’Goth’s knee and cleared distance to bring her blade back into play.

“That will never happen,” Elan snarled.

“Never say never, child, and don’t go refusing new experiences before you get a chance to try them,” the demoness answered with a wide grin, bringing her own long blade up to catch the next attack by Elan with ease, all while keeping control of Jol’s hammer with the edge of her short blade. “You really might enjoy it.”

Elan shrieked and renewed her assault amid laughter from her target.

*****

“Children,” Brokkr said, shaking his head as he watched the fight.

Sindri shrugged. “Youth is wasted on the young, or so they say. It’s too easy to rile them up, but if she’s not careful, that might bite Her Ladyship in the backside.”

“I believe that’s what she was suggesting, brother.”

Sindri laughed, lowering his head as he shook with the rumbles of it.

“We should help them, I suppose,” Brokkr said after a moment.

Sindri sighed.

The two rather disliked getting involved directly; it wasn’t their sort of thing to do. Both of them were more known as support as opposed to frontline warriors. Neither had gathered, or had ever wanted to, the skills and reputation that followed Kaern around almost anywhere he went.

Still, that was Jol out there, and both could tell that there was no way the pair was going to defeat Herself the way they were going. The Third Circle demoness was clearly dominating the battle, despite some surprises being thrown her direction.

“Well, the girl’s plan is shot to the hells,” Sindri said finally, “so I suppose we should pull their rear ends out of the fire and go to ground. Might even be able to duck the search for a while.”

“The girl knows where the local transport center is,” Brokkr said. “We can use that to get her and Jol out of here, if nothing else.”

Sindri nodded thoughtfully. “Aye. We’ll do that. Look for the opportunity.”

Brokkr didn’t respond as he turned his focus on the fight. As one-sided as it was, the kids would learn a lot here . . . assuming they lived. The brothers would do what they could to assure that, for old times’ sake if nothing else, but that was approaching the limit of their actions . . . possibly even exceeding what they truly wanted to do.

Kids. How is it they always manage to make a man do more than he intended? Even we, who are childless for all eternity, fall to their influence. The Creator was truly mad when he designed the infinity. Only an insane sense of humor explains any of the things I’ve seen.

*****

Ser’Goth fought down the amusement with more difficulty than she had fighting the two humans trying actively to kill her. Both of them sported weapons that were actually dangerous but only marginally so in the hands of the barely trained youths.

Jol had surprised her with the runic hammer, and she would have to keep him alive long enough to determine where he had gotten something like that. Particularly one that had clearly been designed to evade her senses. It was actually possible that he could have killed her with it had a little luck shone in his direction and had he chosen a better time to make his attack.

The girl, on the other hand, used the epitome of the ancient human-war fighting technology. It was dangerous, to be sure, but had an inherent predictability that the runic hammer didn’t. Again, the weapon could kill her in theory, but in practice the odds of that happening—particularly while she was in full armor—were negligible.

So Ser’Goth felt no particular reason not to toy with the pair, and she found herself rather enjoying the sport of it as she fought.

The girl, especially, was easy to rile up. Getting her angry and frustrated was of great amusement. While Jolinr was more in control, the fire in him burned under the surface. She knew him well enough to know that it was eating at him, and that would be even more destructive when it inevitably broke clear. He wasn’t controlling his anger; he was suppressing it . . . and she was all about dredging up suppressed emotions.

Normally she preferred to work with other emotions than anger, but fun was fun wherever it was to be found.

She casually turned aside the girl’s blade, letting the carbon slide along the flat of her own weapon as she pushed it away from her body with a disdainful flick of her wrist. Jol was charging in again, so she stepped to one side to force him to redirect the force of his blow, weakening it in the process such that she easily caught the hammer with her dagger again and held it against the trembling force of his arms.

“Your only chance is wasted, Jol,” she said, a hint of genuine affection in her tone as she looked on the fierce expression of the young fool trying so hard to kill her. “You had a small window, but it closed when you lost the element of surprise. Not even that very impressive hammer of yours will open that window again.”

She laughed internally as he flinched at the way she stressed the word hammer, loving the way the young human could get so flustered even in the middle of a fight for his very life.

Youth, she thought fondly, such a human thing.

The girl was attacking with real vigor, but her skill was marginal at best. Jol’s skill with his chosen weapon was decent. However, the weapon itself was a poor choice. She understood the choice; it was an unobtrusive weapon, easily overlooked. Once in a real fight, though, there was little to really recommend it against demons . . . particularly one of her stature.

It could break bones, certainly, but she could heal them near as quickly. Beyond that, there was very little it could manage against her body that would be fatal quickly enough to end her unless she were so foolish as to remain still and allow him to whale on her for a significant time.

Unfortunately for poor, dear Jol, pain just wasn’t her thing. Not suffering it, at least.

“I grow bored,” Ser’Goth said finally. “I believe it’s time to bring this game to an end. Unfortunately for you both, the end was already written.”

She surged forward, hammering Jol across the jaw with her fist. Wrapped as it was around the pommel of her dagger, it twisted his head sharply around and sent him to the ground in an instant as the blood was cut off to the brain and his gray matter rocked around within his skull. Before he had even hit the ground, she turned on the blonde girl and attacked with both weapons in a flurry of action.

The blonde tried, Ser’goth would give her that, her black blade flashing and parrying desperately as she was forced back step-by-step.

“That is a fantastic weapon you carry,” Ser’Goth complimented her casually as she fought. “I always regretted the blood lock your people used on their best tools. There is an elegance to your weapon, and the use of pure carbon was brilliant in ways I doubt you can even begin to comprehend . . . however . . .”

She twisted, hooking her dagger around the black blade and trapping it between her short blade and her armor, grinning as the girl struggled to break the blade free.

“They aren’t indestructible,” Ser’Goth said as she brought her sword in to strike with ferocious power against the flat of the black blade, sending crackling splits traveling along the surface until they reached the edges and the blade shattered.

Ser’Goth stepped back, smirking as the girl stared at her broken weapon in stunned silence.

“I would normally advise surrender,” she said finally. “However, between you and me, it would be best for you to die now, here.”

For a moment she thought the girl’s mind had broken with the blade. The blonde seemed unable to do anything but stare at the shattered weapon.

Then her head snapped up, and Ser’Goth felt herself pinned by a glare that actually intimidated. The thought was ludicrous—or it should have been—right up until a familiar gleam of white light leaked from behind the girl-child’s eyes, and Ser’Goth had a moment to wonder just how she’d forgotten that from earlier.

Then the blonde rushed forward, breaking through Ser’Goth’s defense in a single blinding moment, and the world went white.

*****

Elan was in a rage.

She couldn’t believe that she’d just lost another weapon!

She flashed back to her father’s sword, remembering what it had meant to her and how at the time, its loss had been lost in the nightmare of everything that had happened. Since then, however, she’d felt that loss acutely whenever she had cause to consider it. Now, again, she’d lost her weapon . . . it was the fourth time that had happened and in so short a time.

It all rushed back to her, the feel of her father’s sword in her hand, the pain the night she’d been left for dead in the desert badlands. The pit in her gut when she’d watched Kaern sacrifice himself to buy her time as the wave bore down on them. Losing her weapon had always been a forebear of pain.

Off slightly to the side, she noted Jol lying still as stone on the ground, and she felt the pain in anticipation of what was to come.

She dropped her useless weapon, eyes laying on the demon who’d shattered the black blade so contemptuously rather than just kill her.

Elan didn’t notice how the world lit up, the shadows of the city hiding nothing from her. She was too focused on her target as she angrily leaned into the charge and rushed the tall demoness. Time felt sluggish as she twisted under the blade of the azure-skinned demon, letting it pass over her as Elan brought back her hand even with her shoulder, palm out and fingers splayed.

She slammed the palm strike into the demon’s armor, crumpling it like fabric under the power of her blow, a word she did not know roaring from her lips.

Elan relished the look of shock, disbelief, and anger on the demoness’s face as she was lifted off the ground and set flying back across the city’s street and into the crowd of demons who were still watching. The demoness’s sword hung in the air as Elan paused, cocking her head and wondering at how slow it seemed to be falling.

She reached out and casually plucked the sword from the air, twisting it around as she scanned the area and made her decision.

Sword in hand, Elan didn’t pull back. She charged.

Dozens of demons watching were caught between being shocked at their lady being tossed back through a score of their own like some rag-doll toy by a slip of a human girl and being stunned when that same human grabbed the lady’s blade and, rather than taking advantage of the moment to flee, actually attacked.

Three demons fell to the blade before any of them managed to react, and another four before the first effective responses began to form.

As Elan slew demon number eight, a hammerblow rocked her head around and drove her to one knee as pain blinded her momentarily. She lunged her blade up into the chest of number nine just as a kick lifted her off the ground, and she felt a spike of pain in her ribs the likes of which she wished she’d never known.

Before she came down, another blow struck her in the side and sent her tumbling across the ground, sword ringing against stone as she rolled to a stop. She struggled to her knees as she heard more than saw the mob of demons rushing her.

Elan barely heard the crack of thunder that shook the square, but the force of it ripping through the air nearly sent her to the ground again. She struggled against it, planting the edge of the stolen blade into the ground and pushing herself up, the sound of rushing footsteps causing her to react and swing.

The figure ducked under the wild attack, putting his shoulder into her upper arm as she tried to bring the blade back. Elan lost her grip on the sword as her arm went numb, and she staggered slightly, collapsing into the arms of the man inside her guard.

“Time to leave, lass,” Brokkr told her as she looked up at the short man, an oddly wild grin on his face as he dragged her away.

“No . . . Jol . . .” she mumbled.

“Already got him,” Brokkr said as he hefted her up and tossed her casually over his shoulder.

“The . . . slaves . . .”

“Seriously, child?” The short man laughed as he turned and ran. “Those worth anything have already run, and those who stayed are of too little worth to worry about.”

Any more protests she might have had died as the surge of energy she’d felt seemed to flee her, and she slumped over his shoulder, all the fight gone from her. As the light in her eyes faded, Brokkr saw her close them and slip from consciousness.

He shook his head as he ran through the back ways of the demon city, not quite believing what he’d seen go down.

Who or what taught you words of power and that style of fighting, girl?

He had no answers, but something she’d said to him earlier came back unbidden.

Stink of prophecy indeed. Someone is playing you . . . but are you the knight or the fool?

Chapter 19

Caleb’s feet sank into the wet sand as he hopped off the boat and cast his eyes up and down the beach and then to the jungle. The crossing had been a time-consuming one but largely without incident. Thankfully they hadn’t been attacked by any massive sharks or any other beasts of the sea. Now he and the others just had to worry about the denizens of the jungle ahead of them and, of course, the demons themselves.

He reached behind him, closed his hand around the prow of the boat he’d arrived in, and, using the strength of the armor, hauled the heavy wooden craft high up onto the beach.

“Unwrap the weapons and hand them out,” he ordered. “I’m going to help the others land their boats.”

The men and women with him nodded silently, setting about the task as Caleb went on to the next boat to offer a hand. Simone was already on the beach, soaked to the knees but grinning as she put her back into the boat and helped shove it up to drier sand. Caleb helped them in turn and quickly moved on to the next, giving only a nod to Simone as she pulled her sword from inside the oiled cloth wrap that rested inside the bottom of the boat.

Landing only took a few minutes with his help, and soon he and Simone were standing at the edge of the jungle and looking into the twilight world that lay within, both feeling trepidation and uncertainty about what they were about to do.

“According to Merlin, the demons are a half hour’s march that way,” Caleb said, pointing. “The animals and insects will get thicker and more dangerous as we go, with the worst of them being right on the edge of the jungle around the standing stones.” He took a breath, looking back to the gathered people. “We’ll have to get through them to fight the demons, but just remember that if we can slip through without attracting attention from them, all the better. They’re not the enemy; they’re just in our way.”

The group nodded nervously, hands tightening around weapons, but their expressions were determined.

After everything they’d seen, the demons were too close to their surviving families . . . to their new home. If they had to crawl over their worst imaginings to protect what little they had left, then that was what they would do, to a man.

“Alright,” Simone said, nodding to everyone. “Let’s move.”

The group set out, vanishing into the twilight jungle, leaving the sunny beach behind as they began their traverse of the small island.

*****

Merlin was trying to split his attention among several subjects that all required close focus, and it was beginning to strain his abilities. Elan he was mostly leaving up to her own affairs, mostly because his ability to influence her environment was vastly diminished from the peak of the Lemurian infrastructure. At the moment, the most he could do was help her map out the areas around her location, and frankly, she was doing well enough as she prepared to make her own attack on the stones.

So he left only a very slight tendril of focus watching her actions and instead focused on the demons nearby and the newly organized Atlanteans closing on that location with the intent of disrupting the demonic plans. Caleb was his main center of focus, because the boy was wearing a communications suite to rival anything ever made quite that portable and, in fact, Caleb was far superior to even the probes he had in the area.

So while Merlin was keeping an eye on the feed from the probes, his primary focus was to look out on the jungle island through the eyes of a boy.

The irony was not lost on the elemental in the least, though he drew none of the amusement that many of his past comrades might from the situation.

“The area in front of you is clear of dangerous fauna,” he informed Caleb as the boy led the group through the jungle. “I will monitor and inform you when this changes. Move quickly. The demons appear to be almost ready to finish their current task.”

“Right,” Caleb answered. “We’re moving.”

Merlin watched as the group picked up the pace and nodded to himself as he brought his focus back and observed the island from above, relying on nonvisual data to keep track of the Atlantean force while he monitored the status of the island as a whole.

The reaction of the local wildlife was baffling to him. There was nothing in his experience that could explain it. The most he had were the words of the two demons that Elan had spoken with, and that was something that Merlin refused to take at face value, no matter how friendly they appeared to be.

Whatever the demons here are doing, it’s driven the local wildlife . . . and even some plants into an absolute frenzy. That is either very good for my Atlanteans or very bad. Quite probably both.

The biggest issue he had was that, without any experience in just what the phenomenon was, Merlin could find no method by which he might exploit it reliably. It drove him mad to have such potential for exploitation resting right there in front of him and have no idea how to use it.

*****

Caleb held up his free hand, slowing the advance as he noticed the outlines of animals ahead of them, lit up by his suit.

“What is it?” Simone asked, coming up from behind him.

“We’re getting close,” Caleb told her. “I see animals ahead.”

“What sort?” Simone asked, curious.

“Cats,” he said, “big ones. Black, I think. Not sure; this suit is strange.”

Simone nodded. “The same as on Atlantis?”

“I think so, yes.”

“Okay, we can handle those,” she told him. “I’ll pass the word to be quiet. Just let me know when we’re close. They prefer to ambush from above, so if we don’t walk under them, they’ll probably not bother with us.”

“I know,” Caleb answered as they pressed on.

Jungle cats were a new thing for him, but in the last little while on Atlantis, they’d learned quickly that the large and powerful animals preferred to ambush prey. They rarely went out of their way to hunt down something as large as a human, and never when people were in groups half as large as the current force.

What mattered most was that it meant they were close, and the island had far more dangerous things than cats to deal with. As Simone passed the word, a hush fell over the group, and they progressed even more quietly than they had previously.

*****

“We are almost ready.”

Tel hissed out in annoyance at the Rune Master, “It’s about hells damn time.”

The overseer was well and truly sick of the situation. They’d lost dozens of his demons, to say nothing of the slaves, to animals, by the depths of the circles! Animals!

It was completely mad was what it was, and he would be satisfied only when it was over and not on instant earlier.

“What do you need to finish it?” he asked the rune-master, eager to see the tail end of this assignment.

“Once this is complete, we will make the sacrifice,” the nearly crippled-looking demon said firmly.

“How long?”

“When it is ready, not earlier.”

Tel grimaced but was forced to accept that answer, as little as he liked it. He shifted his focus to the remaining demons under his command.

They were a motley crew if ever there was one, but that was sadly normal for demons. He’d seen too many better-disciplined and better-equipped forces brought low by the sheer willingness to sacrifice thousands or more if that was what it took, for him to be much fooled by that.

The problem was that he didn’t have thousands left, and there seemed to be no damned end to the beasts on this blasted island.

At least they’d been able to stop the attacks from the sea by simply abandoning the beaches.

How I am going to explain to Her Lady that a bunch of fish ate my demons? I have no idea.

Thankfully she wouldn’t likely care, not so long as the job was complete.

He cuffed the closest of his subordinates on the shoulder, getting his attention. “Gather the remaining slaves. We’ve one more job for them.”

The Ninth Circle demon grunted, probably all it was physically and mentally capable of, and shambled off.

Disgusting things.

Tel shuddered in revulsion of touching the weak demon, wiped his hand against his leather armor, and turned his focus back to the task. They were almost done—that was what he had to focus on. They were almost done.

*****

“Almost there,” Caleb whispered as he crept through the last bit of jungle, intently aware of the large number of snakes and other animals all within mere feet or, in some cases, inches of him.

He was only moving through the ring of lethal animals because Merlin had assured him that his armor would be impervious to all but the largest and deadliest of beasts . . . none of which were currently on the island, thankfully. Some of the sea life might have given him problems, but his armor hadn’t even been tested.

None of them had so much as looked in his direction, and at most, the few he’d disturbed by approaching too closely had just shifted and moved out of his way.

This is too weird.

More than weird, it was creepy. There was a large cat sitting calmly just a few feet away from him, perched on a branch above an angry-looking boar. Both were sharing space with spiders and snakes that normally went well out of their way to avoid company of any sort. Caleb would be the first to admit his knowledge of the subject was spotty at best, but even he knew that this situation was just incredibly odd.

“I’m through.”

“Are you okay?” Simone’s voice asked, coming over his suit through the device Merlin had provided for her.

“I’m fine. They just ignored me,” he said. “I don’t know what to make of it.”

“Maybe it’s the armor?” Simone suggested.

“It is not,” Merlin cut in. “Animals of varying sorts have been known to strike at armor in the past. They almost never have the power to penetrate it, but that never stops them from trying. I am afraid that I am at a loss to explain any of this. It is entirely beyond my experience . . . and that, I will say, is deeply troubling to me.”

“I’m happy with them not attacking,” Caleb put in.

“I would be much happier with understanding why they are not attacking,” Merlin responded, “and thus being able to predict whether they will attack later.”

“He has a point, Caleb,” Simone said apprehensively. “The rest of us have to move through without that armor. It’s a little worrying.”

Caleb winced.

It was a fair point.

“Well, nothing to be done about it,” Simone said. “We’re coming through. Watch the demons, Caleb. We’ll worry about the animals and our own skins.”

Caleb nodded, settling in to wait and watch as he tried very hard not to pay too much attention to all the things that crawled around him. “Just go slow. I think they’ll move out of your way.”

*****

Go slow he says. Simone cringed as she started forward. Easy for him to say.

She waved the others on but signaled for them to follow her as she took the lead. She did as he suggested, and it wasn’t too bad. She didn’t even see anything at first and had gone several feet into the thickening jungle around the edge of the clearing before the first snake slithered over her feet and she froze.

Simone took a break, let it move on, and then continued forward.

“So far so good,” she whispered, more to herself than anyone else, but if some of the others heard it . . . well, all the better.

By the time she made it halfway to Caleb, the animals and insects were so thick she had to move incredibly slowly just to avoid stepping on any. No matter what was up with them, Simone expected that stepping on a snake would earn her a bite. So she moved slowly, she shuffled her steps, and she prayed just a little.

She could hear the branches cracking behind her as the others followed and the occasional soft curses and muffled shrieks as they encountered the “locals” themselves.

“Quiet,” Simone hissed over her shoulder, gulping down the tightness in her throat and gut herself as she turned back forward and continued to move. Please don’t let these things turn on us. It’ll be a massacre.

Falling into a group of animals as deadly as the ones around her would be a bad way to die; she knew that better than most. Simone, in her younger days, had ventured far from the badlands and the arid grounds of her old home. If the beasts around her decided to turn on them, it would be over quickly . . . but not painlessly.

Ahead of her she spotted Caleb and breathed a sigh of relief when she did, slumping in place for a moment before pressing on.

Caleb waved to her and she nodded, but before she could do or say more, his quiet but authoritative cough shook her from the brief contemplation of success. Simone turned her head slowly to the left. Just a handful of feet away, a great black cat was staring at her with interest clear in its eyes, yet no sign that it was planning on attacking.

Simone stared back, knowing without any doubt that the animal could smell her fear. She could smell her fear; there was no way any of the beasts around her could possibly miss it.

The beast, though, seemed amused by her, rather than either threatened or eying her hungrily.

It was the single most terrifying, yet curious, moment in her life.

And that, Simone thought darkly, was actually saying something.

Then, finally, she was at Caleb’s side, and behind her the others were slowly taking up positions around them. Simone looked to either side of herself, along the edge of the jungle and the clearing, and then up to where the stones were now in sight.

“What do you see?” she asked Caleb finally as she tried not to focus too much on what was crawling around and over her feet.

“Demons,” he answered, his expression unreadable behind the helmet. “Lots of them. Humans too.”

“The slaves?” she asked.

Caleb nodded. “They’re being gathered together and pushed toward the stones. Must be more work about to go on.”

“I wish we had better weapons.” Simone sighed.

“I wish Elan were here,” Caleb responded as he flexed his arm and tightened his grip around the iron sword he carried. “She has more experience with this armor. I’m not sure what I can do with it, not for sure.”

“Just try not to kill any of us,” Simone said, smiling slightly.

She’d heard his stories and playful taunts as they’d been aimed at Elan, as had most of the small colony of survivors. The idea of having that much strength on call both excited and terrified her, as Simone had an idea of just how badly things could go . . . especially with a lack of experience behind that strength.

It meant that she would have to let Caleb fight alone for the most part, for fear that he might accidentally harm any support she could offer him. It was something that did not sit well with her, but ultimately there was nothing she could do about it.

“Is everyone in place?” she asked, half turning to see if she could spot everyone.

There had been no screaming, so it seemed like things weren’t going too badly beyond their original plans. She was about to pass a message down the line when Caleb just nodded.

“Merlin says we’re all ready,” he said. “We’ll be able to . . . wait, what’s going on?”

“Where?” Simone asked.

Caleb pointed, then his arm fell as his body jerked upright, exposing his head to the demons, if any were looking.

“They’re killing the slaves!” he hissed. “We have to go! Now!”

“Caleb! Wait . . . we need to be . . . Damn!” Simone gritted her words out through clenched teeth as the boy charged from cover. “Everyone, go! Go! Go!”

Simone just hoped the rest of the fight went better than the start.

*****

Merlin would have cursed if he were the sort to do so, but he wasn’t, so he just watched the boy charge into the fight with an unwelcome and unfamiliar feeling of helplessness rising up around him. He wasn’t entirely out of the fight, of course. There were still a few of the probes in the area, and they could do some things. Just not nearly as much as he would prefer.

He was leaning into the process of watching the fight and trying to determine just how to respond with those probes when he was startled by his connection to Elan vanishing utterly.

The elemental intelligence snapped his focus over but couldn’t find his other charge at all and was forced to quickly review the last few seconds of her suit telemetry.

The image of the large female demon crushing the helmet with a single taloned hand floated in front of him for several moments before it truly sank in.

And at that point, Merlin truly felt helpless.

Chapter 20

Ser’Goth growled as she cleaned the dirt off her armor and checked the damage the human had managed to do with her bare hands!

While her armor was not of the quality of some of the legendary smiths, it was runically enhanced. No human should have been able to harm it, not even if they’d fired at it from one of their mass accelerators. Yet that slip of a child had all but torn a hole clear through the chest plate with a single strike.

My own blasted fault. Ser’Goth chastised herself for having forgotten the earlier strike the girl had nailed her with when she’d destroyed the child’s own armor. Ser’Goth knew that she had gotten too deeply involved in playing with Jol because of their personal connection, and she’d let that girl’s surprising ability slip her mind until it was forced in her face again.

She spoke a power word when she threw that blow, Ser’Goth thought grimly, wondering just how any human even knew of power words, let alone was capable of using them.

She turned her head, noting the assembled demons waiting on her orders. Others had already gone off in pursuit, but whoever had stepped in to recover the two fools appeared to know their way around the city.

I believe I’ve seen them with Jol in the past. Ser’Goth scowled at the memory. She had believed them to be of no import, likely some human slaves who had taken the boy in when he was orphaned.

The demoness considered that for a moment and wondered if that should have been a tip-off. She’d taken an interest in Jol in part because he was a rather impressive specimen of humanity, body and mind, but also because she remembered his parents . . . and it pleased her to treat their son as her own personal toy until it was time to kill him.

Those two must have been compatriots of his parents. That would explain their interest in the feisty little troublemaker. Few humans would put up with a child as unwilling to bend as he.

That was problematic. She had thought that the rebellion in her city had been stamped out, but if they were compatriots of Jolinr’s parents . . . it was possible she hadn’t finished the job half so well as she believed.

“Scour the city,” she ordered. “Leave no building unsearched, no alley unchecked. I want those four. Alive if possible, dead is more than acceptable, but I want them.”

“My lady!” The closest demon acknowledged the order, saluting, then turned to relay the orders. In moments the square was all but empty of everyone but Herself and those still working to prepare the circle of stones. She turned to where the overseer was watching the work progress and walked over to him.

“How long to finish?” she asked darkly.

“We’ll have to herd in some more sacrifices,” he answered. “Most of them scattered during the first few moments of the fight.”

“I’ll see to it,” she promised. “Is that all?”

The overseer hesitated but nodded resolutely while he kept his silence.

Ser’Goth looked at him through narrowing eyes. “What is it? Speak.”

The demon grimaced, looking aside for a moment. “The rune-master you assigned, my lady . . .”

“What of him?” she asked, scowling.

She hadn’t, in fact, assigned the rune-masters. They had been dispatched from below, but she had seen nothing to surprise her when she had looked them over upon arrival.

“It’s not my place to speak,” the overseer said hesitantly. “However, I do not believe that he is a master.”

“What?” she asked, sharply looking over to where the demon in question was working. “Are you sure?”

The overseer shook his head slowly. “No certainty, my lady. Just suspicions. His work is . . . adequate, but even I can see the variance in it.”

If anything, her eyes narrowed further. Variance in a rune was not something a nonspecialist should be able to note. There was a reason she had picked the overseer for his position, and his knowledge of runic skills was one of the very short list that put him in it.

“Will the gate work?” she asked softly.

“As best I can determine, my lady, yes.” The overseer nodded firmly. “I am more concerned with the defenses he has emplaced.”

“Oh?”

“Blood warding, my lady.”

A deep chill passed down her spine as those words echoed in her head.

Blood warding.

Of all the things runic that existed, that was one of the least understood and most dangerous. Blood, whether it be demonic or human, was powerful. It carried elemental magics, arcane potential, and had a powerful ground already inherent within the liquid. It was one of the most potent sources of power that existed, weight for weight and volume for volume. Misused, it was incredibly dangerous.

If the runic master was no such thing, then the chances of misuse exploding in all their faces were . . . extreme.

“I see,” she said stonily. “I will look into it. For now, however, we are locked in. Complete the circle.”

The overseer nodded grimly, saluting in response. “It will be done.”

*****

Pain greeted her like an old friend when she opened her eyes, and Elan just groaned before closing them again.

“I need to stop waking up like this,” she grumbled unhappily.

A low chuckle from over her head rolled through the room, and she opened her eyes again, squinting against the pain.

“That’s a refrain I’ve heard more than once in the past,” Sindri told her as he walked around and into her line of sight.

“Where are we?” Elan asked, struggling to get up.

“Safe,” he told her, “for now, at least. You stirred up the hornets for a whole lot of nothing, though, girl. Herself has the whole damned city being torn apart looking for you and Jol.” The short man seemed to consider that, then shrugged. “And us too now, I suppose. Doubt she knows who we are, but she knows we’re not just a pair of dumb human slaves getting by in the demon city.”

A sharp laugh came from the other side, and she twisted to see Brokkr standing over Jolinr. “Yer not wrong there, brother. Our cover in this place is well and truly blown.”

“I apologize for that.” Elan said as she got properly upright. “I thought my sidearm would do the job.”

“Probably would have if the stones weren’t warded against kinesis,” Brokkr told her. “And while you shouldn’t go trying to do it again, our time here was coming to an end anyway so don’t worry about it.”

“Kinesis?” Elan asked, only to reach for her skull as a blast of details flashed in front of her mind and she keeled over. “Oh God, what was that?”

“Kinesis?” Sindri asked, not looking at her as he checked out a window. “It’s energy in motion. Your caster fires . . .”

“Magnetically contained pellets of antihydrogen,” she answered, her tone a little dull, as though repeating from rote. “The warding canceled the kinetic energy of the pellet, sinking the energy into the ward scheme and freezing the pellets in place until the containment failed . . .”

Elan looked up, noticing that the two brothers were staring at her with their jaws akimbo.

“What?” she asked, eyes flicking between them.

“Just surprised you knew that, child,” Sindri told her. “You didn’t seem to know that much about your gear, let alone runes, earlier.”

“I . . .” Elan paused, confused. She looked down, genuine puzzlement on her face. “I don’t know where that came from.”

“You don’t know where . . .?” Brokkr stiffened, eyes locking on her as he half reached for a weapon.

A gesture from Sindri caused him to hold his action.

“You’ve been exposed to too many mental influences, child,” Sindri said with a shake of his head. “The Nim, demons, even Kaern, I suppose, now that I consider it.”

“Kaern?” Elan’s eyes widened as she shifted nervously.

“Unlikely he did any harm,” Sindri assured her. “If he’d wanted to, you’d be dead or worse. He was never one known for half measures when dealing with an enemy, nor for violating the rights of anyone who didn’t meet that description. The Nim, though, they’re another story. If they had any cause, real or imagined, they’d twist your brains into mush with little hesitation . . . and demons are worse.”

Elan stared, unbelieving. “Worse than mush?”

Sindri laughed. “The Nim will leave you your will. They’re bound not to interfere with that. Demons don’t give a damn.”

“I . . . really don’t know what to say to that,” she said, pushing herself to her feet as she looked back to where Jol was still unconscious. “How is he?”

“He’ll live,” Brokkr answered gruffly. “Like as not he’ll wake soon, and we’ll be able to move.”

She nodded, edging over to the window to glance out. There wasn’t much to be seen. They were low in one of the city’s buildings, and it was shadowed and dark outside. Without her armor, she couldn’t pierce that veil, and Elan felt a little more vulnerable in the moment.

“We’ll have to leave the city,” Sindri said. “No option there. Can you get Jol out the way you came in?”

Elan nodded absently, then frowned. “What about the two of you?”

“We have our own way out,” Sindri told her. “Don’t worry about us. Jol will be better with you, I think.”

Elan sighed. “We can’t leave those stones intact.”

Brokkr snorted. “You talk like you have a choice, girl. You tried; you failed.”

“Then I’ll try again!”

“Don’t snap at me, girl,” Brokkr snarled back at her.

Elan was about to do just that when a whooshing roar and a flash of orange light caused her to flinch away from the window as a rush of heat blew in. Sindri pushed her aside in a moment and ran over to it, sheltering his face with an arm as he looked out.

“What in the circles is going on out there?” Brokkr demanded.

“I don’t know,” Sindri said. “One hell of a fire, for sure.”

The short man pushed away from the window and headed for the barricaded door. “You all stay here. I’ll be back as quickly as I can.”

Elan started to move to follow him, only for Sindri to pin her with a glare and a jabbing gesture of his right arm. “I said stay.”

She hesitated, and with that admonition, the short man vanished through the door and jammed it well shut behind him. Elan sighed, slumping down in the seat she’d woken in, idly pulling at the remnants of her armor still hanging from her neck and the back of her head.

“I can’t believe she did all this with her bare hands,” Elan mumbled as she removed the pieces and examined them.

She suspected it was a total loss. Even if she had any idea how to fix it, there were so many pieces missing that she couldn’t imagine any of it still working. A hand over her shoulder, plucking the remnants of the helmet and neck seal from her hands, surprised her.

“Hmm, been a while since I’ve seen this,” Brokkr mused as he looked over the pieces. “Good design, though. Your people did good work in their day.”

Elan didn’t really know what to say to that, so she just kept quiet and watched.

“Primary display is gone, of course,” Brokkr said, “but the secondaries are intact. She’d have had to poke your eyes out to get them. Looks like the pathways are all torn to shreds. Herself has a way with machines, I’ll say that much . . . She knows how to turn ’em off, at least.”

“I know it’s ruined,” Elan said glumly, looking at the gear with disappointment.

“Well, the armor is,” Brokkr told her, surprisingly gently. “The pathways can be replaced, though. Here; watch.”

Elan did just that as Brokkr pulled a tool of some sort from his pocket and began etching on the armor piece. When it was done, there were complicated scratches in the metal, then he went and did the same to another section. When he was all done, he handed it back to her, gesturing for her to put it on.

The shattered armor was a far cry from comfortable, bent sections poking into her skull and neck, but Elan did as she was told, and her eyes widened as she found the display was functional again.

“How?” She blinked.

Elan didn’t know much, or anything really, about repairing the equipment Merlin had gifted her . . . but she knew you didn’t do it by scratching patterns into it.

“Rune work,” Brokkr answered. “A simple similarity rune in this case, connecting the armor to the display again. You don’t need to wear the armor now, just the display. It’ll connect at any distance.”

“Similarity?” Elan asked, confused.

“Like affects like,” Brokkr told her. “The two runes are linked so when something affects one, it will also affect the other. They’re entangled across space and time, one of the more useful minor rune sets to learn.”

A brief flash in her mind’s eye staggered her briefly, but she caught herself before Brokkr was forced to and blinked away the brief pain before she nodded.

“I see,” Elan said, and shockingly . . . she actually did.

What’s happening to me? she wondered, not sure she liked the changes but finding them both useful and . . . well, terrifyingly beyond her control.

Not liking that train of thought, Elan focused on the display she was still wearing and found that it was still linked to the city’s systems. She quickly called up what she could and looked around.

“Wow,” she breathed out.

“What?” Brokkr asked.

“There’s fighting,” she said, “fighting everywhere. I think . . . I don’t know.”

“Fighting?” Brokkr asked, frowning. “That’s doesn’t make sense. The city is solidly under demon control . . .”

“It was,” came a voice.

Both of them turned, seeing a slightly smoky Sindri slipping back in the door.

“Was?” Brokkr asked.

“The slaves are in full revolt,” Sindri said, slightly awed at what he was saying. “I wouldn’t have believed it possible.”

“I don’t believe it’s possible,” Brokkr growled. “Those beaten-down forners don’t have the sacs to fight. They’re slaves to the core.”

“Slaves love freedom more than any freeman,” Sindri said. “For them it is a dream and a mistress just tantalizingly out of reach. The freeman takes his love for granted. Do not underestimate the heart of the slave, brother. Deep down, it always beats free.”

“Pah,” Brokkr spat, “they should have fought when it mattered, not now when the war is over.”

Sindri sighed, knowing that his brother had deep issues left over from the war. They both did. He wouldn’t let his prejudices blind him to reality, though, and he’d seen it with his own eyes.

“Whatever you must think, brother,” Sindri said, “but I know what I saw.”

“If they’re fighting, we can’t leave them,” Elan said, shaking her head. “I won’t leave them.”

“Don’t be stupid, girl,” Brokkr snapped. “You’re one little slip of a human child! You can’t save everyone.”

“I can try.”

Brokkr threw up his arms, disgusted, but Sindri eyed her for a long, quiet moment.

“Alright,” he said.

Brokkr turned on him, shocked. “What?”

“She’s not wrong,” Sindri told his brother with a shrug. “If they want to fight, then they’re worth saving.”

“We’re three people!”

“Four.”

The trio half turned, staring at Jolinr as the young man struggled to sit up.

“Lie back down before you hurt yourself, Jol,” Brokkr ordered, exasperated. “Bloody pups. You’re not immortal, remember?”

“Doesn’t matter,” Jol said, ignoring him. “She’s right. We have to do something. If they’re willing to fight, I’ll fight with them.”

“Those damn stones will be charged in short order!” Brokkr snarled. “Then everyone dies. Doesn’t matter if they’re fighting or not.”

“Then we take the stones out,” Elan asserted.

“With what?” Brokkr looked around the room, completely at a loss to understand any of them. “We don’t even have your little popgun, child. Our weapons won’t get through those wards, and even if they could, Herself will have the circle triple-guarded now. There’s nothing to be done.”

Elan shook her head, looking out the window at the fires she could only see via the reflected light.

“We’ll find a way,” she said firmly. “The city is full of weapons . . .” A flash of images struck her again, causing her to fall into the wall and brace herself against it with her forearm. Slowly, she nodded. “You two know that, don’t you?”

Sindri and Brokkr looked at one another, one smiling and the other reluctant.

Finally, it was Brokkr who broke the silence.

“Yes, we know. The city is full of weapons,” he said. “I just don’t know if they’ll be enough to penetrate those wards.”

Elan nodded thoughtfully. “You may be right. We need to find a core communication line.”

“What? Why?” Brokkr asked.

“My armor . . . Thank you for fixing what you could,” she said, tipping her head to him, “but it’s lost the connection I had back to . . . him. I want to see if he has any better ideas.”

“That’s fair,” Sindri said, considering. “Brokkr, you go with her. Jol and I will do what we can to help the humans live through the night.”

“I am doing this under protest,” Brokkr grumbled, but he got to his feet as Elan turned and started toward the door.

“Girl!” Sindri called, startling her.

Elan half turned, just in time to see a small object flying in her direction. She caught it reflexively and found herself holding a roughly foot-long metal cylinder with gleaming designs etched in its surface. “What’s this?”

“You’ll need a weapon. Take it,” Sindri told her.

“A weapon?” Elan asked, trying to determine if she was supposed to use the cylinder as an overly large fist weight or an extremely short stick. “This?”

Sindri just smiled, clapping Jol on the shoulder. “Brokkr will explain. Come on, Jol. We have a rebellion to back.”

Elan looked over to the other brother, still confused, but he just grunted and gestured to the door.

“Fine,” she huffed, preceding him out the door as the group left the room and then split up to see to their individual tasks.

Chapter 21

Caleb roared as he wrenched the sword from the demon’s chest, nearly bisecting the beast as it fell away from him. He could hear the yells and screams of others behind him as the Atlanteans broke cover and rushed the demons’ line.

He tried to stay ahead of them, keeping enough room around him so that he wouldn’t be a threat to his own side while he raged against the demons with all the strength he could muster in both his own body and the armor. That choice led to him attracting the most attention from the demons, but Caleb was perfectly fine with that.

Demons of all stripes seemed to come from the very ether to charge in and challenge him, and he gleefully met them without any hesitation. His iron sword bent and blunted but didn’t break as he cut down all comers while trying to keep some attention on the fight around him.

Despite being largely the focus, Caleb became aware of bundles of demonic resistance in other areas nearby, and the unarmored men and women he’d brought with him—unarmored by Avalon’s standard, at least—were not faring so well as him.

In the peripheral vision afforded him by the armor, Caleb spotted two men go down under a demonic onslaught, the event highlighted in red right before his eyes. He twisted, breaking from the fight he was in, and leapt across the field in a single bound. He led with his iron blade, slamming it point first into the back of the demon just as he struck home with the full weight of his body and drove the massive figure to the ground.

There was a moment of shock, both demons and humans staring, thunderstruck by the instant of devastation he’d caused. Caleb took full advantage of that moment, wrenching his blade loose and sweeping it up to the left to slash one demon to ribbons and then curled it around and down to the right to send another falling away with blood and ichor pouring from its wounds.

When the others hadn’t yet reacted, Caleb paused briefly to turn on the stunned humans.

“Fight now,” he ordered, “stare later!”

That seemed to startle them into action, and as he turned, Caleb was joined as he and the others fell upon the closest demons with a fury.

*****

Merlin observed the battle with almost all his focus, only little bits of his impressive mind split off to accomplish other tasks. Among those was searching for any sign of Elan in Lemuria, but as sophisticated as he was, there existed a part of him that found itself wasting energy in the very human pastime of wishing for things he simply did not have.

Just a single combat drone would be of inestimable value, but that was something he no longer had. The vast majority of anything military had long since been expended in the war. When factories fell, early in the war, production had been forced to shift to a distributed network. Unfortunately, since then, even most of the distributed nodes had fallen off the network or been entirely lost.

Avalon could produce many things, but some key resources were simply not to be had on the hidden base any longer.

So he was reduced to watching and providing what limited oversight was possible, with only a young man being capable of receiving his notifications in time for anything to be done.

Merlin spotted two of the demons holding back—one in charge and the other . . . the other was a weak, sickly-looking figure. Normally Merlin would associate that one with a demon who had just begun the infernal change that twisted people into monsters, but he had seen this one give orders even to the first.

Those two just watched the fighting, largely unconcerned, and that worried Merlin as he observed through the probes.

What are those two up to?

When the sickly one turned to the stones and began to move in an unhurried fashion back toward them, Merlin knew something was very wrong . . . or would soon be.

“Caleb, priority tasking,” he said without thinking.

*****

Caleb blinked, confused by the words he’d heard.

“What?” he blurted, almost stumbling over a demon that had fallen before him.

“Oh for . . .” Merlin sounded exasperated, which just confused Caleb even more. “Never mind. There’s a problem.”

“Why didn’t you say that? Where?”

“Look to the stones,” Merlin told him. “I’ve highlighted the issue.”

Caleb checked his immediate area but, finding no threats there, quickly looked up to where Merlin was guiding him. The instant he brought the demon into view, his armor suddenly seemed to make the target look larger, startling Caleb, who had to check and make sure that he hadn’t moved closer somehow. When he realized he hadn’t, he focused more closely.

“He looks weak,” Caleb said. “What’s the problem?”

“He is the one who wrote the runic inscriptions,” Merlin said. “I think it would not be a good thing if he were allowed to finish.”

“Got it.” Caleb nodded. “On my way.”

There were demons between him and his target, but for Caleb that was a bonus.

He had little time for the subtle skills he’d learned from Simone and others, and little need of them in the moment. He hacked wildly to either side as he ran through groups of the demons, trusting in power to see him through any lacking of skill, not even bothering to ensure that his targets of opportunity went down entirely, as his main focus was deeper in.

*****

Simone was startled when Caleb suddenly twisted and changed his apparent goal of fighting every possible demon single-handedly and shot off on a direct course for the standing stones. A course that put him deep inside the enemy line, and her with no chance or path to follow.

She waved on a couple of those closest to her to cover while she fell back and retrieved the communications gear that Merlin had gifted her.

“Merlin, what is Caleb doing?” she demanded. “He’s going to get himself killed that deep inside the enemy line without support!”

“Caleb is attempting to intercept the demon responsible for the runic etching before he can cause something . . . untoward to happen.”

“Untoward?” Simone spat. “What does that mean?”

“If I knew, I would inform you. All I am certain of, however,” Merlin answered, “is that anything that demon does will not be good for you or your people.”

Simone cursed, dropping the device back into her pouch without responding as she grabbed up her sword and stepped forward again.

“Everyone, form up, push them back!” she snarled, weighing into the fight with her blade flashing in the light.

*****

Caleb stayed on the move, never giving the enemy the chance to pile on.

He slid under one particularly large one, gutting it with his sword as he did so, skidding across the sand-covered rock on his path to the stones ahead. His approach had been noticed, he realized quickly, and the demons were converging on his position.

The armor was counting them as they closed on him, but the number kept going up faster than Caleb could process them, so he just ignored the information and focused on what was in front of him. The demons converging on him were big and slow, but there were a lot of them, and that was posing a problem because he wasn’t aiming to just increase his kill count here.

Caleb knew that he had to get past them, his real target being on the other side. That didn’t mean he had to leave them intact in passing, however.

He could have gone over them easily enough—the suit had the strength for that—but Caleb met the horde straight on, with his blade out to the side in challenge. The dull metal barely glinted in the sun; whatever shine the iron blade might have had was dulled by blood and ichor.

Recognizing the implicit challenge, the biggest of the demons roared and broke from the group to run Caleb down with a thunderous charge. Caleb grinned under the helm and simply sidestepped at the last moment. He swung his blade like a scythe and bisected the demon as it passed.

Two parts hit the ground, several feet apart, and while the other demons were staring at that, Caleb decided it was time for a charge of his own.

He hit the demon line like a force of nature, parlaying leverage and the suit’s enhancing strength into lethal results. Two went down in the initial contact, sword swipes taking them apart with contemptuous ease. The rest made things more difficult as they crowded around, taking away a lot of Caleb’s mobility and leverage.

With pressure squeezing in on him from both sides, Caleb flipped his grip around on the iron sword and hefted it over his head, with the blade pointed down as he lunged forward and buried it three quarters to the hilt in the chest of the demon before him. Before the others could react, he let the blade go and kicked the demon hard enough to send it flying back as he charged through the gap he’d just made.

“Stop wasting time,” Merlin’s voice growled at him. “The runic specialist has begun his work.”

“I’m working here,” Caleb snapped back, pivoting to avoid a blow from a demon on his right, stepping into the attack and grabbing the demon by the upper and lower jaw as the massive beast roared at him. He strained, feeling it even through his armor, until the demon’s jaw broke, then casually tossed the beast aside.

“Work smarter,” Merlin replied. “Do your job; let others do theirs. Attempting to do everyone’s job will just ensure that no one’s gets done.”

Caleb snarled wordlessly, kicking the legs out from under the next closest demon, hearing bone crunch as he did. The demon was still in midair, in the process of falling, when Caleb hit it with a double-axe-handle overhead blow that collapsed its chest cavity and drove it into the ground. He stepped over the body before it fell still and grabbed up his sword where it was sticking upright from the chest of the demon he’d killed earlier.

“I’m on it,” he growled, striding through the gap and breaking into a sprint as he now had a clear run to the stones.

*****

The overseer watched the fighting range across the field, wondering just where all the humans had come from in the first place.

I thought this region had been cleared by Lord Arhoth. Her Lady is not going to be pleased with his work, he thought.

The humans were giving a good accounting of themselves too, though that accounting would not be enough to win the day. There was a notable exception, one that might just be troublesome enough to tip the scales, and that was the one that attracted his focus.

The human was wearing some sort of armor, assuming it was human and not a traitorous demon or one of the forsaken. Tel had been around long enough not to be too quick to jump to conclusions. He knew well that humans had existed who could do what he was seeing, though it was odd that the human would have such armor and be using a simple-appearing sword.

Tel watched as the human killed off perhaps a dozen or more of the more pitiful demons under his command, letting their sacrifice show him the skill of the warrior. He settled the grip of the axe in his hand and began to walk across the field as he recognized the human’s goal.

Mildly skilled in the use of his weapon, Tel noted as he saw the casual grip the warrior held on his blade. But he’s intentionally leaning into the power of his armor rather than using that skill. Foolish.

Skill couldn’t be replaced by power.

When you tried, at best you wore yourself out quicker than you should, no matter what advantages you might have. To intentionally waste energy by forgoing the skills you had worked and bled to acquire was the height of arrogant foolishness.

Tel decided that the human was young. A properly fell warrior would know better, but a young pup full of himself and playing with a new toy . . . well, that was another story.

He grimaced slightly as the human killed a pair of demons with his armor-shod hands, then stepped over the bodies to retrieve his sword from the body of a third. There was a certain style there to be admired; if nothing else, the youth knew how to put on a show. It had clearly intimidated many of the others around him, but Tel hadn’t been picked at random from the circles’ hordes. He was a fell warrior himself and had killed many humans more skilled than this one over the centuries.

Hefting his axe as he strode into the human’s path, Tel twisted to stand face on to the human, checking his advance on the rune-master.

“Your charge ends here, human,” Tel rumbled, his voice deep and gravelly as he called across the stone and sand.

*****

Caleb fell back a step as the big demon he recognized as the overseer stepped into his path.

Unlike most of the demons that he’d fought so far, the overseer could almost be mistaken for a particularly large human. His skin wasn’t quite right, and there were bone protrusions that made his nature eminently obvious, but he was close enough to be of concern. The rule he knew was that the closer to human a demon looked, the more power it was likely to be commanding . . . unless it was one of the poor bastards just undergoing the beginning of the change.

This one was clearly well past that level, which meant Caleb was facing a serious threat.

Caleb shifted the grip on his blade and considered his options for attack as he began to absently step in one of the footwork patterns designed to draw the enemy out and into his own sphere.

“Smart, human,” the demon said, a rasping, raw chuckle filling the air. “Not so fast to charge into my axe, I see. I’m almost disappointed. I prefer my enemies stupid and dead.”

Caleb didn’t answer him, recognizing the attempt to draw him out in turn. He brought his blade up in a defensive position that would allow him to move to the offense in a split second if needed and continued to work, trying to circle the demon.

That idea went right out when the demon moved into his circle with a quick motion, forcing Caleb to back off or be caught inside the arc of that big axe.

“I told you, human, your charge ends here. Come through me or not at all; there are no other options for you here.”

He’s going to make me fight on his terms, Caleb decided grimly.

That closed a lot of the options that he’d been hoping to exploit. He wasn’t going to retreat, and that meant that he was going through.

Caleb shifted his stance and kicked off the ground with a powerful lunge that turned into a full charge as he reversed the sweep of his sword and struck out at the demon. He wasn’t surprised when the big axe came up to easily deflect his sword blade away, and he turned with the redirected force and dropped into a crouch as the demon’s axe flashed out to cleave only air where his head had been.

He swept his sword around and chopped for the demon’s legs with force to bisect a thick tree trunk but was disappointed when the demon opted to step back out of range of the swing before it could strike home. That ended the brief clash, as the demon was now out of range also, so Caleb slowly rose to his feet and glowered at the overseer from behind his helm.

He’s skilled.

In fact, the demon was likely more skilled than Caleb himself was, as much as the young man hated to admit it even to himself. He was also clearly stronger than a human by a significant margin, to judge by the size of the axe he wielded. Caleb didn’t know how much stronger, but it was clearly enough to offset at least some of the advantage of the armor.

Briefly he wished Elan were there. The weapon she carried would likely have won the day easily, but there was little point in wishing for the impossible.

Caleb flipped his blade over his wrist a couple of times, casually starting to circle again. His motions were intended to disguise his intent and hide what he was thinking, as a good fighter would be able to read a lot from the tension in his muscles alone if he left them nothing else to focus on.

The demon just laughed at him and turned to stay face on, once more leaving the initiation of action up to Caleb.

So he initiated.

*****

Merlin observed the fight, opting not to distract the boy as he determined the level of combatant the large demon represented. It was clear that this was definitely one of the larger threats, and Merlin wasn’t honestly certain whether Caleb was up to the task.

For the first time, the elemental intelligence wished that arming the boy with a real weapon had been an option. Unfortunately, like the armor, sidearms were gene-locked, and unlike the armor, Elan hadn’t asked him to unlock one for the boy, so he hadn’t.

It had seemed like a wise choice at the time. Arming one child with a weapon of that nature was bad enough, but given the situation at the time, Merlin hadn’t really thought that there was much worse damage she could manage . . . especially since she had mentally limited herself to using it in the blade form that was a tiny fraction of its potential power, at least initially.

Giving a pubescent boy the power to blow up practically anything he wanted seemed downright stupid.

Perhaps I should have considered that needing that firepower and not having it was far worse than the opposite.

Old rules were fine for the time in which they’d been made, but it was clear that those times were past.

Live through this, boy, and I’ll see you properly equipped . . . and trained, Merlin amended carefully. Some old rules held true in any situation, after all.

Helpless.

He hated it, but he was standing there and could do nothing but watch and wait.

*****

Simone snarled as she hacked her blade through the tough hide of the demon she’d engaged, earning a howl of pain and a stumbling step as it tried to get away from her before collapsing as its life fluid poured out over her feet.

She looked to the right and left, getting an idea of the costs of the fight so far, and realized that it wasn’t really particularly encouraging. She didn’t know how many they’d lost, but a lot of the men and women who’d come with them to fight were down and bleeding, and the demons now seemed to have them outnumbered.

A glance up the field told her that a few of the slaves had tried to rise up with the distraction but not enough to make a difference. Caleb was behind the lines, far enough away that she barely caught glimpses of him from time to time. She worried as she recognized that he was holding off his charge now, and there was a lumbering demon with a massive axe facing off against him.

Don’t die, Caleb, she thought desperately as she threw herself back into the fight, trying in vain to turn the tide she knew was now against them.

“Hold them back!” she yelled. “Rear lines! Regroup!”

Simone put her weight into the fight as people rushed forward to pull out the wounded, and a second line got into place to renew the assault.

We need to turn this around. We can’t win this on the defensive, damn it!

Her heart was dropping, though. She had been in enough fights to know that turning this one around was unlikely now. It would be close, but the demons were stronger than they’d believed. Close would not be enough . . . yet there had seemed few options before and fewer of them now.

Simone heard a coughing roar, an inhuman sound, and almost ignored it. It was far from the only inhuman sound on the battlefield that day, but it was accompanied by screaming and it came from behind her. Her blood ran cold as she risked a look over her shoulder.

Men and women were scattering, falling on their backsides as the jungle behind them exploded with wildlife. Large cats, boars, and things crawling came rushing out. Her heart froze in her chest, but then the lead animals just ignored the people as they ran past. One big black cat charged right toward her and flung itself into the air as Simone twisted to avoid it.

It wasn’t aiming for her, however, and two hundred pounds of jungle cat slammed into a demon coming up to attack her with a force she did not want to contemplate, sending both rolling to the ground as she tried to wrap her mind around what she was seeing.

It was one thing to watch over Merlin’s projections, but the real thing was something else entirely.

She lifted her blade up, twisting it to catch the light, and called out as loudly as she could.

“Push forward! The demons! Kill the demons!”

*****

Merlin watched over the battle, stunned beyond words and nearly beyond thought as he watched the intervention of animals and insects into the fight. Earlier, upon watching the enraged fighting between the local fauna and the demonic threat, he had assumed that something the demons had done with runic engraving had somehow generated a field that drove the animals to a rage.

Now it was clear that they were intentionally bypassing, and even saving, the human fighters as they went for the demons’ throats.

He’d never seen anything like this in the entire run of the war, though there had certainly been isolated cases where animals were known to attack and kill demons . . . but then they’d been known to do the same to humans who violated their territory as well.

No report ever had wild animals intervening of their own free will to support a human engagement with demonic forces.

Merlin had no idea what was going on, and the situation so totally defied his expectations that he had no idea how to best take advantage of the shift.

*****

Caleb hit the ground on his back, skidding along the stone as a ringing between his ears seemed to drown out everything around him. He lay there for a moment, staring up at the blue sky above and wondering if it was always that blue or if he had taken a bit more of a hit than he thought.

Well, that didn’t work, he thought as he struggled to sit up, working his jaw and shaking his head as the ringing slowly dropped off.

He looked down at the sword in his hand and grimaced, noting that it had been bent almost thirty degrees when he’d used it to block the axe that had almost ended his life. He couldn’t make himself regret the weapon’s sacrifice, but it still pained him to see his reliable blade look like that.

Caleb climbed to his feet and looked over to where the demon was smirking at him, waiting for him to recover, with a total arrogant confidence that . . . sadly, Caleb had to admit was probably not misplaced.

That didn’t mean he was giving up.

He gripped the blade on either side of the bend and glared over the sword at the demon as he strained and slowly bent the iron sword back almost straight.

A casual flip and twist of the sword in his hand told him that while the balance was a little off from the damage, it wasn’t too bad . . . especially not with the strength of his armor taking up a lot of the difference. He started forward again until a commotion distracted him.

Both Caleb and the demon overseer half turned, surprised to see the tide of the battle turning as great cats and other beasts of the jungle joined the battle on the side of the humans.

“Huh?”

Caleb didn’t have any other response to what he was seeing, just a slightly bewildered acknowledgment of it. That might be all the reaction he needed anyway. He turned back to the fight at hand, stretching his neck a bit as he continued to flip the blade around his wrist with a casual, easy motion.

“Come on then, human,” the demon growled. “It seems I can no longer play with you. Time to die.”

“For one of us,” Caleb agreed, speaking for the first time. “Let’s see which.”

The two hefted their weapons as one and charged.

Chapter 22

“So what is this thing anyway?” Elan asked, holding up the cylinder as she followed Brokkr through the back alleys of the demon city.

She had experienced enough over the past while to know better than to make silly assumptions about something someone had implied had more to it than appearances, and the etchings she saw on it reminded her of the runes she’d watched etched in stone as well as the ones Brokkr himself had put on her armor to effect a measure of repair.

“Sindri’s backup,” Brokkr grunted, not looking back at her as they walked. “Just give it a flick while putting a bit of intent to it.”

Elan started to flick the cylinder before pausing, confused. “Intent? How would I do that?”

Brokkr just shook his head. “Same way you changed that weapon of yours. Humans were pretty close to discovering their own language for communicating with the universe before you lost the war. A lot of your toys were just a few hairs away from magic in all but name.”

Elan looked at the cylinder curiously for a moment before following his advice and flicking it, thinking change as hard as she could at the same time.

It bucked in her hand so hard that she almost dropped it as the small bit of metal suddenly snapped out to just over five feet of solid steel, digging into the stone of the wall next to her and tearing a chunk out of it in the process. She flinched as a shard of stone nicked her forehead but managed to keep from dropping the weapon. She turned it over in her hand, considering it briefly. It felt . . . oddly light in her hand.

“It’s a staff.” She blinked, a little surprised. “I have some training with a staff.”

“Good; I expect you’ll need it,” Brokkr told her, gesturing up ahead of them. “There’s an old communications hub under that building ahead. We should be able to find a link to the city’s main communication trunk there.”

Elan nodded, more focused on testing the feel and swing of the staff in her hand. She casually flipped it around her wrist a couple of times, then smoothly rotated it from one hand to another, bringing it to a halt behind her shoulder, when she winced as it contacted bone with a sharp rap.

“Ow.”

“Be careful with that.” Brokkr glanced back at her. “Sindri inscribed those runes personally, and he’s quite good at what he does. As I recall, he dumped mass into the underverse but maintained the effect. Tricky bit of rune work that, as it’ll cause it to hit like a much heavier weapon despite not tearing your arms off in the process. He didn’t put any discrimination on it, though, so if you hit yourself in the head with it, you might live to regret your carelessness.”

Elan jerked slightly, extending the weapon away from herself as she looked at it askance. She’d nailed herself more than once with her training staff back when Simone was teaching her, and the idea that she might do more than give herself a nasty bruise with this one suddenly worried her.

“Are you serious?” she asked, uncertain.

“Of course I am.” Brokkr rolled his eyes. “I have no interest in joking with you, girl. Don’t be afraid of it, but do respect the weapon. You don’t casually throw a sharp blade around, do you? Or play with that sidearm you had?”

Elan shuddered.

Merlin would have flayed her alive if she’d done the second, especially within Avalon.

Brokkr nodded curtly at her reaction. “Well, treat that no different. It is a weapon, to be respected by its wielder and by those you face with it. Nothing more, nothing less.”

Elan hesitated but then nodded in return. “Okay.”

Brokkr turned his attention away from her and gestured to the building in front of them. “Come. Let’s find you that communications line.”

*****

The city was burning.

Jolinr found himself honestly stunned by that. He’d never seen the like in his life, and he had often been at the center of whatever possible trouble there was to find. Everywhere they looked, there were slaves raging against the demons, and often winning where they had been faced with the weaker examples of their oppressors.

“What happened?” Jol asked, wondering at it all.

“Revolution, Jol. It ferments below the surface where it can’t be seen,” Sindri answered as they watched the mess unrolling before them. “The harsher the society, the more powerful the revolution will be when something brings it to the surface.”

“But . . . why now?”

Sindri shrugged. “Many reasons. I expect that the trigger for this was, at least, twofold. You’ve been paying too much attention to the girl, Jol, and not enough to what others were seeing . . . and saying. They’ve been watching someone fight, and win, against powerful demons. That’s emboldened them.”

“This is because of Elan?” Jol felt . . . he didn’t know how he felt about that. He had fought and won against demons many times in his life, but he had always hidden that fact.

“No, this was always coming,” Sindri told him. “It’s not in the nature of man to kneel forever. She just brought it a little closer to the surface. No, I suspect that the demons did the rest themselves. Look over there . . .”

Jol followed his guidance and frowned as he saw demons pulling struggling people out of a building, dragging them into the streets. He tightened his grip on his hammer, eyes narrowing.

“Someone, I expect Herself,” Sindri said, “lit the fires here. Those demons are likely tasked with retrieving sacrifices for the stones. Back even the meekest into a corner from which there is no escape, and you had best prepare yourself for the fight of your life.”

“We’re going to help, aren’t we?” Jol asked, eyes burning as he watched the scene.

Sindri smiled slightly, gesturing ahead of them. “I will follow your lead. Show them what you can do.”

“With pleasure,” Jolinr said, striding forward as his knuckles whitened around the leather wrap of his hammer’s handle.

*****

They were enjoying their current task.

Demons of the Ninth and Eighth Circles were in pain all the time, and it did little for the disposition, which was already undergoing some nasty changes. The urge to lash out at anything around them was an intentional part of their mental conditioning, turning what had once been normal enough people into sadists by nature. Not hurting people took discipline or fear, and there was plenty of the second in the city. Now they were off the leash, and despite the violence raging around them, or rather because of it, the weakest demons in the city were experiencing a near orgasmic rush.

None of them had anything that really resembled names anymore. At most they responded to some specific series of grunts, but more often just to whatever was directed most obviously in their direction. Their orders had been clear and wonderfully open to interpretation.

Bring humans to the stones alive. No other requirements.

For the likes of the weaker circle demons, that was a smorgasbord of delights being offered up. There were so many things they could do to humans without killing them, after all, and they intended to do every single one of those things.

So it was perhaps understandable that the group that dragged a family from where they had been cowering in one of the buildings was a little overly focused on their pleasures, such that they never saw their death coming from behind them.

The first hint they had of trouble was when a meaty crack sounded loud above the screaming and the largest of their fellows froze in place, with a halo of black blood surrounding his skull. For a long, interminable moment, the body and the blood just hung there, . . . and then both fell to the ground, revealing a tall, angry-looking human standing with a hammer in one hand and death in his eyes.

The group had just begun to move in response when the man surged right into their midst, that hammer coming with a force unbelievable. A demon’s jaw shattered as it was lifted off the ground and sent flying back a dozen feet, and then another’s neck and skull were turned into broken remnants of what they once had been. Three fell in just seconds, before the rest could focus on the threat, but once they had done that, half of those remaining were cut down from behind by a short man no one even saw coming.

The fight was over in just a few seconds more then, sword and hammer turning the remaining demons into twitching messes on the ground as the two fighters carefully ensured that the area was as secure as it could be and no other demons were rushing to stop them.

The family on the ground cringed back from the blood-spattered duo, but the short man ignored them. The taller of the two looked them over with tired acceptance and gestured to the building.

“Go hide,” he said, “or pick up a weapon and fight . . . but don’t stay in the streets. We won’t save you a second time if you’re determined to die here.”

*****

Jol was surprised when two of the younger ones both instantly volunteered to fight.

He hadn’t expected that.

Their parents—or he assumed they were the parents—tried desperately to dissuade them, but the two young boys—almost men, he supposed—refused to be turned. They stripped some of the demons of what they could find, mostly stone weapons.

“Be careful with those.” Jol nodded to the stone axe and hammer they’d retrieved. “Stone will kill a demon, but not easily. If you can find iron, trade up to that as soon as possible.”

The boys nodded with grim looks on their faces, earning a laugh and a grin from Sindri.

“I think we can do them one better,” the short man said, extending his hand to the first for the axe.

It was reluctantly handed over, and Sindri took out a steel tool and quickly etched a few symbols into the stone. When he was done, just a few seconds’ work, he handed it back.

“That will hold for a short while,” he said. “No more than days, at most, but enough for your needs tonight. Your axe will kill.” He took the hammer and did the same, handing it back to the boy. “As will your hammer. Now, take your family and get them somewhere secure but not too hidden. We may need to find them later if things go badly. Running may be our only option here.”

“Where can we run to?” the oldest male asked, eyes wide. “The city is surrounded by water . . . I . . . I can’t swim.”

“Wouldn’t help much if you could,” Sindri said. “We’re miles from shore. There are ways out of the city, some better than others. We will see what happens. Now go! When you’ve done that, find others and help them.”

The two young men nodded, grabbing up their younger siblings and pushing them all away, leading them somewhere safe.

Jol watched as the group limped off, stealing a look at Sindri.

“I’ve never seen you offer help to people like that before,” he said, a touch of wonder in his voice.

“Never been impressed enough to bother,” Sindri replied before tipping his head to the hammer Jol himself carried. “Almost never.”

Jolinr nodded slowly. “Thank you.”

“Come. We have more to do tonight,” Sindri said with a grin. “I doubt this revolution has a chance, but if it is going to happen anyway, we might as well see to it that it at least makes the demons pay some small amount of their debt.”

*****

The old basement of the building was covered in dust, so thick Elan could feel it crunch slightly under each step, but it wasn’t the slime and muck of the surface, so she supposed she should be happy about that. It was odd how she’d stopped noticing the mess after a while, right up until it was gone. Now she felt filthy for having been exposed to it and, in fact, was rather filthy in all truth. Being bounced around by that demonic bitch hadn’t done much for her clothing once the armor had been peeled off her, after all.

So now she had dust clinging to her in addition to the unspeakable muck she’d been tossed in.

So much better.

“Check here.” Brokkr gestured to a section of the wall with what looked like a thin section tacked onto it.

Elan looked it over briefly, then realized it was a panel like she’d seen on Avalon. She pulled it open and found the inside looked familiar enough, though most looked far worse than similar sections on Avalon. There was a blinking light still functioning, though, which was what she’d been hoping to see.

“There’s power,” Elan said happily. “I think we can get through here.”

She carefully reached in and felt around for the connector switch, then pulled it clear. It was just a friction fit, requiring no tools, thankfully. Merlin had made her fiddle with similar cables on Avalon and on the redoubt at Atlantis. The systems were solid and lasted a long time, but as good as they were, they still needed maintenance. She checked the remnants of her armor, pulling the helmet portion up so she could find the section Merlin had called the input connector, and jammed the cable in.

Her vision flickered briefly, then a new section of information appeared in front of her eyes.

Elan found the open communications channel and changed it over to what Merlin had called the emergency channel.

“Merlin, are you listening?” she asked, ignoring Brokkr as the short man winced. “Please be listening . . .”

*****

Sitting in the web of Avalon, most of the elemental intelligence’s attention was set on the fighting around the nearby standing stones, but he kept a thread focused on Lemuria, despite not having the time to spare to do a full search for the missing Elan. So when a message in a familiar voice came over the emergency channel, Merlin’s attention snapped back in an instant as he shifted fully to a new stance and poured focus into Lemuria.

“Elan? What happened?” he demanded. “Are you alright? Can you get back to the transport facility?”

“I’m fine,” Elan’s voice returned, causing him to relax marginally. “I’m not going to the transport yet. I have things to do, but I need help. There’s a situation here . . .”

Merlin forced down the urge to argue, becoming all business.

“Report,” he said firmly.

“There’s a full rebellion here now,” Elan told him. “The demons are in chaos. The people are burning anything that will light on fire, but the stones are intact. I tried to destroy them, but some kind of defense froze the shot from the sidearm in midair . . .”

“I’m aware. I reviewed the imagery after I lost contact with you,” Merlin told her. “Such defenses were reported toward the end of the war, but none were confirmed until now. I don’t know how you can get your weapon to penetrate the field . . .”

“Uh . . . about that,” Elan said, sounding chagrined, “I sort of got the weapon destroyed. Sorry?”

Merlin groaned, though he’d half expected that possibility. Frankly, it was one of the better case scenarios he’d considered since he’d lost contact with her. Loss of armor and weapon was infinitely preferable to the loss of Elan, not that he was going to let her know that.

“Another one?” he asked dryly. “Honestly, child—”

“I know, alright, I’m sorry.” She cut him off. “We need to figure out how to help this revolution, though, and destroy those stones at the same time if we can.”

“You don’t have many materials on hand for funding a revolution, I’m afraid,” Merlin said grimly. “The facility below was shut down after fighting had basically bled out every resource available. If the reactor were online, you might be able to destroy the city entirely, I suppose . . . That would certainly eliminate the stones . . .”

“I activated the reactor, didn’t I?”

“No, just the backup,” Merlin said. “Thorium is too stable for that use, I’m afraid . . . and the yield is far too low, even if it were possible. You’d need to power the main reactor, and frankly, child, there is no possible way you’re ready for an operation of that nature.”

“There has to be something we can do,” Elan said. “Though, thinking about it, I’d rather not get everyone killed here, if it’s possible, please?”

Merlin was silent for a time, thinking about the nature of the problem. Problems, actually. The revolt on Lemuria was one issue; the stones were another.

Can we leverage one to help with the other?

“Do you think you can contact the leadership of the revolt?” Merlin asked.

“I don’t know that there is much leadership yet,” Elan said honestly, grinning at Brokkr, who just looked at her quizzically since he was only hearing half of the conversation. “But give us time, and I think that can be arranged.”

“Time is the one thing you do not have much of,” Merlin scolded lightly. “But if you can, it will make things much easier. There is still the issue of the defense around the stones, and I do not know how you might get through that . . .”

He trailed off, hesitating as something occurred to him, but the idea was anathema to him, who had known the city in its prime. Finally, Merlin grimaced and just spat it out.

“You could sink the city,” he said, hating every word.

“Sink the city? How? Why?” Elan blurted, drawing a sharp, wide-eyed look from Brokkr.

“Lemuria was built intentionally over a powerful node of energy detected deep within the earth,” Merlin told her. “This node was off the shore of the closest landmass, but that wasn’t much of a deterrence. If you flood the lower pylons, the city will be rendered unstable at least. Likely it will sink entirely. That should destroy the stones.”

“That will kill everyone,” Elan protested. “There are lots of people here. They’re fighting . . . I can’t . . . I . . .”

“Child, you won’t save all of them,” Merlin told her softly, “but if you can get to the leaders of this revolt . . . you may be able to get as many as possible to the transport facility. We can evacuate as many as possible.”

Elan looked down, breathing deeply as she considered that.

“Okay, fine. Get me what I need to do it,” she said grimly after a moment’s thought. “We’ll bring down the city.”

*****

Brokkr listened with widening eyes as he caught the gist of the discussion just from Elan’s side of things. Merlin didn’t pull punches, that much was clear. He shouldn’t have been surprised by that, not after the turn things took toward the closing days of the war.

Orbital strikes, chemical weapons, and various other methods of mass destruction had rained down on the planet in the last desperate days of the war. When it was clear that losing meant likely extermination, the gloves had come off, and Merlin would have been one of, if not the, key command elemental behind that decision-making process.

Clearly the war left a mark on the old-timer, Brokkr thought as Elan made her decision.

“If you’re going to do that,” Brokkr cut in, “then we have our work cut out for us. We’d best be moving.”

Elan conceded that reluctantly. “I’ll be in contact as I can, but for now . . .”

She was reaching for the helmet when Brokkr stopped her. “Leave it. The runes will keep you connected. Leave the helmet here. You don’t need to carry it, and it’s useful linked to him.”

Elan looked at it with surprised wonder, remembering the runes he had carved, and nodded.

She tucked it in behind the panel, closing it as best she could, and nodded to the stairwell. “It appears that I’ll be able to stay in contact after all. Let me know when you have what I need. I’ll see about the first part now.”

Brokkr followed her up the stairs, smiling slightly as he considered the mess he and his brother had gotten themselves into once more. Every now and then they did seem to happen on an interesting human or two. It kept life from being too boring, but if they weren’t careful, it would cut theirs short. For nigh on immortals, that was no small threat either.

Bah, onward and upward then. No point worrying about the future. Let’s live up the present.

Elan led the way as they burst out to the street level, turning left without hesitating or slowing her pace.

“Where are you taking us?” Brokkr demanded, keeping up easily just a step behind her.

“There’s a large group of people down this way, but they’re in trouble,” Elan said. “They showed up on functional security imagers.”

Brokkr nodded, understanding. Now that she was again connected to the security system of the city, and with the help of Merlin to sort through all the information available to them, the girl might just be able to pull off the new plan.

He wasn’t sure how he felt about sinking the damned city, but it was just that . . . a damned city, so likely it was both inevitable and for the best. He would be very interested to see how well the child before him could pull it off. That almost made the whole thing worth the effort, though Brokkr didn’t expect much in terms of actual results from it all.

In the end, city or no, the demons owned the world.

Nothing was going to change that.

*****

The riot had begun when the demons came to take people away.

That wasn’t an unknown, or even all that unusual, set of circumstances. It had happened before and would likely happen again. What had changed was something different for each of those present, but most of the people would, if asked, simply say that they knew what was going to happen to those taken away, and when the first punch was thrown . . . it just felt right.

Fighting erupted like a blazing fire, starting in one place and burning out of control before anyone on either side had the slightest clue what was going on.

Soon enough, there was a full-fledged riot in progress and no turning back.

At first it had gone well too.

The demons had been taken by surprise, mostly the weaker filth that made up the bulk of the demons in the city. They weren’t in significant numbers, trusting fear to even the scales to their favor. When anger replaced fear, things didn’t go so well for them.

The riot spread across block after block, sucking in every soul in its path, as well as quite a few without souls.

Then the demons were reinforced, and the new forces weren’t nearly as badly outnumbered . . . nor were they Eighth or Ninth Circle beasts.

A group of Sixth and Seventh Circle demons led by a small cadre from the Fifth slammed into the rioters’ wall, killing dozens in the first few seconds and scattering them badly. The fight wasn’t out of them, but without the strong support of nearby rioters, the forward momentum they’d gained vanished in an instant.

From then it descended into brawling. The lower filth were no longer running before them, but which side had the upper hand still changed back and forth a dozen times in as many minutes, and people and demons fell violently every passing second.

The difference was, the people felt the loss of their numbers; the demons couldn’t care less.

So the fight began to sap out of them as some tried to rally the rioters to regroup, but every time one started to succeed, one of the more powerful demons would ensure that he went down. They’d make it highly visible and highly violent and bloody, and each time one of the new leaders fell, a little more of the fight in all of them died.

The riot in that area was only moments from breaking. A deep sense of despair had settled onto most of those, who fought only because they saw little other option but were actively looking for any way out they could find.

And then one of the Fifth Circle demons calling for the death of another man trying to rally the rioters died, a bloody halo erupting over his head as he fell, and everyone on both sides was stunned momentarily to see a slim young girl standing behind him with a staff in her arms that appeared taller than she was.

*****

The demon never even saw her coming.

Elan supposed that she should have felt at least a little guilty about killing him with his back turned, but she didn’t feel like offering a fair fight to any of them after having been used as entertainment by the bitch in charge of the whole thing. Unfortunately for the demons here, they were about to receive some of the pent-up aggression Elan had been holding back since she woke.

She looked at the staring humans who had been the most recent subjects of the demons’ aggression and snapped at them, “Pull the injured out of the line and grab a weapon! Help or get out of the way!”

That startled most of them into some action, at least, though she didn’t know what kind and, to be frank, didn’t care. It had also served to gather everyone’s attention to her, on both sides, which was just fine with Elan.

A scrabbling sound from her left side was all the warning she got or needed, causing Elan to snap her staff in a vicious arc that cracked the skull of a Ninth Circle demon that had tried to flank her. The blow took his feet out from under him, slamming the demon to his back with a force to crack bones. Elan paused only briefly to flip the staff back around in her hand, then jab it down and through the demon’s chest to end him for good.

Only then did she turn around to face the host behind her.

“Next.”

Chapter 23

Sword met axe with force that neither should have been able to match in the hands of mortal man. Neither was backed by the strength of a mortal man, however. The axe was powered by demonic strength and runic inscription, while the sword slammed home with the power of enhancing armor driving it.

Of the two, the sword was taking the worst of the deal with every meeting.

Caleb doubted his blade would cut water with its present shape. Every bang had dented the edge, sometimes twisted or bent the blade, but it was the only thing he had that could hope to penetrate the skin of the demon, so he kept fighting with the poor abused weapon, kept trying to find a way through the demon’s defense, and kept failing on both counts.

If this keeps up, I’m not going to have a club left, let alone a blade.

At least the rest of the fight had shifted in favor of the Atlantean force.

He only glimpsed bits and pieces of the rest of the fight, his focus being almost entirely on his own problem, but it was clear that the intervention of the animals, apparently on the side of his friends, had turned the fight in their favor. He didn’t know what the hells that was all about and didn’t really care.

Worst case, I just have to hold on a little while and . . .

Caleb’s eyes flicked over to the sickly-looking demon who was feverishly working on the stones and realized that he likely didn’t have the time to wait out his current opponent until backup could get to him. He had to find a solution, or it was all going to end badly in short order.

Unfortunately, the overseer had no intention of making it easy on him.

They clashed again, the hardened edge of the demon’s axe biting deep into the edge of Caleb’s own softer iron blade, locking the two together briefly in close quarters.

“You’re going to die here, little human,” the demon snarled through a wide, ugly grin. “I don’t care how strong you are; you brought the wrong tools to this job.”

“If that’s what happens, so be it,” Caleb told him grimly over the locked blades.

He twisted his blade away and down, using the demon’s own strength to drive the two weapons into the ground, then Caleb snapped a hard jab into his opponent’s face, rocking the demon’s head back in surprise. While he roared in pain, Caleb kicked out at his knee and tried to break the joint.

The overseer rolled with the blow, evading that fate, and broke contact with Caleb long enough to get his axe back into a defensive position and his feet under him.

“Not bad,” the demon admitted grudgingly, wiping his face where Caleb had struck him with the back of his fist, “but not good enough.”

Caleb barely had time to shift to defense as the demon rushed in on him, easily as fast as Caleb’s armor might have allowed him to move and with more mass and force behind the strike by far. He got the sword up between them again, intercepting the axe, but the force drove the iron blade back into his armor and then lifted him right off his feet and sent him tumbling across the ground until he skidded to a stop at the edge of the sand that led down to the shore.

He struggled to his feet as quickly as he could manage, planting the tip of his blade in the dirt and using it as a cane because he knew there was little else he could do to the blade that would damage it more than it already was. He was surprised that the overseer hadn’t bothered capitalizing on his advantage.

The arrogance was stunning.

Simone would tan my hide for doing something that stupid, Caleb thought, his gaze shifting to where Simone was even then fighting for her life—and his and everyone else’s.

The coughing roar of one of the jungle cats could be heard amid the distant screams, and Caleb looked back to the demon as a stray thought snapped to the front of his memory.

Caleb stood tall, lifting his battered blade from the sand and holding it up.

“You liked that?” he asked. “Come on, I’ll give you some more.”

“Arrogant pup!” the demon spat, snarling at him.

Caleb laughed. “You have some nerve to call me arrogant. How many times did you let me recover in this fight alone?”

“It is not arrogance when my opponent is so far from my level,” the overseer snapped at him, clearly irritated.

“You keep giving me chances like that”—Caleb laughed loudly—“and sooner or later I’m going to shove this busted sword right up your—”

“Blasted pest!” the overseer cut him off, snarling openly then.

“Come on then, show me I’m wrong,” Caleb challenged, sneering. Though the demon couldn’t see it, the tone was clear in his speech.

The overseer roared, axe coming up high over his head as he charged. Caleb held for a moment, bringing his twisted sword up in defense as he waited for the last moment, and then charged right into the face of the overseer and his axe.

They met just a dozen feet from where Caleb had stood, the big axe coming down in a powerful blow that would have probably killed him from concussion alone, assuming it didn’t split him from head to tail.

The axe didn’t land, however, as Caleb ducked low instead of meeting the weapon head-on, using his blade to deflect it off just enough to clear the road, letting the axe sail over his head and to the side. He slammed his shoulder into the demon’s abdomen and planted his feet as solidly as he could as the demon’s momentum and swing bent him over.

Caleb powered upright, using all the strength in the armor to snap up and throw the demon over his shoulder.

The overseer let out a grunt of surprise. His feet lifted clear off the ground as Caleb twisted and threw him in an arc through the air. He hit the beach hard and skidded down into the waves, coming to a stop as he clawed at and left long furrows in the sand along the entire length of his slide. When he stopped, the overseer got up slowly, sneering back at Caleb.

“I’m not some weak Ninth Circle, boy. Moving water has no effect on me.”

Caleb nodded. “I know.”

Caleb lifted his blade, examining it. His old, trustworthy sword was a mangled ruin, not even fit to be a club. It hadn’t broken, but it was twisted so badly that he doubted he could swing it straight with the balance as ruined as it was, and there wasn’t an actual edge to be seen anywhere along it. He sighed and tossed the blade aside, earning a laugh from the demon.

“Giving up?”

“No, just don’t need it anymore,” Caleb answered. “It’s been fun.”

“What—?” the overseer began, confused, but then something caused him to spin around just as a gray and white form exploded out of the surf and two massive rows of teeth slammed down around him.

Black blood frothed in the surf as the massive shark twisted and snapped around violently, tossing the big demon back and forth until the sea creature managed to pull back into the sea, taking its prey along with it.

“Damn,” Caleb mumbled, looking at the water. “That was a nice axe.”

Well, there wasn’t a chance in the hells that he was going to go after the axe now, so he supposed he would have to do without. Caleb turned around and began to trudge back up the beach to where the stones were perched on the overlook.

There was still work to be done.

*****

Merlin actually started slightly when he observed the shark explode from the water and take down the demon, amazed that the boy had pulled it off.

That was decent thinking, assuming it was intentional, Merlin thought, wondering if he’d underestimated the boy.

Of course, remembering half the boneheaded things he’d said in the past, that seemed unlikely.

Well, perhaps it’s a sign that he may grow to something special, the elemental intelligence thought wryly as he linked back into the communications system.

“Good job, Caleb,” he said. “The rune specialist is still working, but I do not know how much time you have.”

“Yeah, got it, on my way,” Caleb said tiredly.

“Some good news,” Merlin offered up. “Elan has made contact. Apparently she, or someone, managed to set the whole city aflame in riots. Demons are having a busy, if not rather bad, night in Lemuria tonight.”

Caleb laughed slightly. “Sounds like Elan . . .” He paused, something bothering him. “Wait! Night? It’s daytime.”

“Not in Lemuria,” Merlin said. “It is a big world, Caleb, and only half of it sees daylight at any given time.”

“How does that work?”

“I’ll explain it sometime, when you finish the job there,” Merlin promised.

Caleb nodded as he trudged. “Right. I’ll hold you to it.”

“I look forward to it.”

*****

Simone screamed as she drove her blade through a demon and twisted it as hard as she could manage, eliciting a scream and rattling breath of air as it died and slumped in place. She planted a foot in it and kicked it back so she could pull her blade free and then took a moment to examine the field.

The animals had turned the tide, not that she had any idea how or why they’d attacked and not gone after any of her people.

Thank the fates they did, she thought with a hint of desperation coloring her thoughts. They’d come close to losing, and she didn’t know where the hells Caleb had gotten to.

It seemed that while they had taken losses, the fight had gone far worse for the demons.

She carefully stepped over the body of the demon she had just killed, trying not to disturb the insects that had rushed the body. More than once they’d finished off demons who had gone down but not quite been killed, so as little as she wanted to be near the little beasts, Simone was fully inclined to extend a degree of respect and courtesy to everything that existed in nature at that moment in time . . . no matter how irritating or dangerous they might normally be.

“Check for injured,” she ordered to a couple of others who were taking breaths as they realized there was no more fighting in their immediate area. “Get our people out of the way of our . . . friends.”

Respect, yes. Trust . . . well, that might be another matter. She’d prefer not to leave any temptation out in the open that the animals, whose motivations she still didn’t understand, might succumb to. It seemed like a step too far, but perhaps she would learn otherwise.

If so, then I’ll apologize, Simone thought with a hint of a genuine smile on her face as she recognized Caleb slogging up over the crest of the hill from the beach. He looked worn and weary but intact and with all his limbs. That was as good as she could hope for.

*****

This is not good.

Merlin was having to split his focus, but thankfully things at the island had calmed considerably. The situation itself, however, was no less dire than it had been.

The rune specialist was now effectively alone, but Merlin believed that he had finished his work.

Most of the sacrifices were prevented . . . but was it enough?

The sickly-looking demon seemed unperturbed at the loss of his protectors and barely cast even a glance toward Caleb as the boy approached the stones. Merlin shifted more probes into the area and began to edge them around, looking for information that would make sense of what he was seeing.

He was raiding the data gathered by the various operational groups from before the war ended—had been almost nonstop since he’d identified what the demons were working on—but there was far too little in the records about the demons’ runic language.

He was aware that it somehow created sympathetic links with the subquanta of the universe, altering the laws and probabilities that governed reality. How that worked, exactly, was a mystery, but no matter how one looked at it, it was a powerful and lethal tool at the enemy’s disposal. He had already translated all the runes he could, which was unfortunately few of them, but now it was up to the people on the scene.

Lord, I wish we had a proper operations team there . . . or at Lemuria . . . or literally anywhere right now.

For Merlin, the lack of knowledge, the lack of influence . . . the general overall lack . . . was almost literally maddening.

*****

Caleb came to a stop as he felt something pushing against him, making it harder to move forward with each step. He carefully reached out a hand and pushed into the air, feeling a resistance like a powerful wind blowing against him, but there was no wind to be felt.

“There’s something here, Merlin,” he said. “I can’t see it, but I can feel something blocking the way.”

“An invisible field? Disturbing,” Merlin replied. “How strong is it? Can you push through?”

“Probably, for a bit at least, but it seems to get stronger as I move closer to the stones,” Caleb answered.

“Be careful,” Merlin advised, “but proceed forward. I’m moving a probe in closer to see if I can detect any changes.”

“Right,” Caleb said dryly. “Be careful he says. Easy for you to say, Merlin. I’m starting forward.”

He took a step, then another, feeling the resistance climbing with each motion closer to the stones. It wasn’t hard at first, but after just a few more steps, he found himself leaning in and pushing hard against the ground, his feet seeking out crevices to dig into with each step. He was still over thirty feet from his target when it became clear that he wasn’t getting any farther.

“That’s it,” he said. “I could maybe climb if there were handgrips, but I’m not walking any closer.”

“Fascinating,” Merlin said. “I’m registering an unusual flux in the quantum field surrounding the stones, strongest around you, but nothing I can identify or counteract. I will continue searching.”

Caleb didn’t say anything. He was too busy keeping his balance, as he was almost horizontal with the ground, hands and feet dug into what grips he could find in order to keep him in place.

“Caleb!”

He couldn’t look behind, but he recognized Simone’s voice and weakly waved one hand over his shoulder.

The demon he’d been seeking out glanced over at him, a smug look on the sickly, scarred face, and slowly got to its feet and stretched. Caleb watched it with narrowed eyes as it seemed to smile in his direction and then began to slowly amble over, taking its time.

“Having trouble?” the demon asked mockingly.

Caleb said nothing; there wasn’t much to say.

The demon shortly grew impatient with waiting for a response anyway.

“You needn’t bother,” it said, smirking. “Stronger than you have tried against the warding I can establish, and they all failed. Your little attack was futile. You may have slowed my circle, but you did not stop it.”

Caleb seethed but still kept his mouth shut. As long as the demon was talking, it wasn’t doing anything else.

“Being silent will not gain you anything.” The demon laughed roughly. “The runes are complete. Charging is now inevitable.”

“Your overseer thought his victory was inevitable as well.” Caleb decided to try taunting a bit.

“He was a fool.” The demon sneered, gesturing dismissively.

“Well, I’ve heard it said that a fool can tell another fool by sight.” Caleb grinned.

The demon snapped around, glaring. “Watch your mouth!”

“Why? It seems I’m about to die anyway, aren’t I?” Caleb asked, laughing at the demon’s reaction. “Not much reason to listen to you.”

“Arrogant, foolish pup!”

“I’ve been called worse,” Caleb said simply, still trying to hold against the pressure of the field pushing against him. It was utterly bizarre to be there, straining against an invisible force as he was, and see the demon just mere feet away, standing there as though nothing at all was wrong. There was something entirely too creepy about the situation.

“You’ll be called demon yourself, soon enough,” the rune specialist sneered at him, turning away to limp toward the stones again.

“What? What do you mean?”

That caused the demon to pause, looking back with a dark grin on its face. “That is something you’ll learn shortly, once the elder arrive. In the meantime, why don’t you just . . . hang in there?”

The demon turned away again, but this time he didn’t respond when Caleb shouted.

Caleb gritted his teeth. “Merlin, we need something here, and I am out of ideas.”

“I wasn’t aware you ever had any in the first place,” Merlin responded with an amused tone.

“I hope that bad sense of humor showing up means you have a plan!”

Merlin gave the comment all the attention it deserved, completely ignoring it as he shifted his remaining probes into the location.

“I will make an attempt to penetrate the shield with a probe now. Hold on,” he told Caleb seriously as he brought the probe in.

“Exactly what else am I supposed to be doing?”

With no reply forthcoming, all Caleb could do was wait to see if anything happened. At first he saw nothing, then there was a brief flash of light and a shower of sparks exploded over the stones.

“I’m going to go ahead and assume that didn’t work as you hoped,” he said dryly as he considered his position.

“Not . . . precisely, no,” Merlin answered.

“Right. Okay, fine,” Caleb growled. “I am not giving up here.”

“No one is giving up,” Merlin assured him. “Just give me a moment to evaluate alternate—what are you doing?”

Caleb ignored him, digging his feet into a crevice in the stone as he let go with one hand and lunged upward, catching another grip. “I’m climbing.”

Slowly, painfully slowly, he secured his position and then focused on another grip and wrenched himself “up” to where he could dig his fingers into the curve of the stone and pull his body along with it. A foot, an inch, or even less at a time, Caleb slowly pulled himself along the ground to get closer to the standing stones.

“Caleb, the outer pressure on the armor is reaching critical levels,” Merlin told him.

“I’m not stopping until this is done,” the boy gritted out.

“Boy, if this field . . . whatever it is, if it cracks your suit now, you will die,” Merlin informed him tensely. “The human body cannot survive the level of pressure you’re currently experiencing.”

Caleb reached out a shaking arm, slowly getting into position and grabbing another grip so he could pull himself up that few more inches.

“Doesn’t. Matter,” Caleb gritted out through clenched teeth. “I won’t stop. Never gonna stop.”

His arms were shaking violently, even in the armor, as he reached out again to curl his fingers into a ridge in the stone. He tried to steady an arm, bracing it against the ground as best he could, but even then he couldn’t stop the shake. He knew it would break his grip loose if he didn’t, so he paused and just tried to stop shaking.

*****

Merlin spotted the boy’s actions and realized what the problem was and what Caleb was trying to do, and it left him with a dilemma.

If the boy failed to control the shaking of his muscles, he’d be broken loose from his position. The forces Merlin was monitoring would, without question, throw him back like a missile, but with the armor intact, he would likely survive the results.

However, that would leave the stones intact and the battle lost.

Alternatively, he could help the boy. Maybe the boy made it, maybe he destroyed the stones. At the current rate, his armor was going to crack. When that happened, it would be like transporting the boy twenty thousand feet underwater in an instant. He’d crack like an egg.

The mission would be accomplished, however.

Hesitation was uncharacteristic of Merlin, but normally he was dealing with triple-volunteer specialists who lived to do the job. Children were not his normal forces of choice, and the elemental intelligence despised the situation, but even so . . . he made his decision.

“Caleb, I can steady your arm,” Merlin said. “It will lower the dexterity of your movement, however.”

“Do it,” Caleb answered, not hesitating at all. “I’m going to shake myself right off my grip here.”

“Done. Do you have the weapons material I provided before the mission?” Merlin asked.

“Some of it, just my portion.”

Merlin sighed. “It will have to do. It should do. Alright, I’ll highlight the weakest points of the stones. Get there, attach the material, and then get clear.”

*****

“Got it, thanks,” Caleb said as the shaking of his arm stopped.

Rather, the shaking of his armor stopped. His arm was still vibrating inside the suit like crazy, but the armor itself was rock steady. He took a breath and continued crawling forward against the force trying to stop him.

The sickly-looking demon cocked its head, turning back in his direction.

“Fascinating,” the demon said. “You should be dead by now.”

The demon sounded honestly curious as it stepped casually over toward him and crouched down, looking closer.

“Is it your clothing?” the demon asked. “I see no runic etching, but some armor has it on the interior. Strength enhancement? No, it would require more than that. Your eyes should have popped in your skull by this point. Curious. I’ll be sure to recover your armor when this ends. It will make interesting study.”

Caleb ignored the smug prick.

Gripping tightly to the stone ground, Caleb crawled his legs up until he was crouched in place. It felt bizarre—everything in his brain was telling him that the ground was down—but this armor and the strain was pushing him horizontally away from the stones with an incredible force. He felt a sweeping dizziness attack his senses and immediately tried to push it down, steadying himself before he looked over to the side at the closest stone.

He took a breath, and then Caleb jumped.

All the enhanced strength of the armor was pushed to the limits as Caleb jumped just a few scant inches off the ground and flung himself horizontally a dozen feet, slamming into the stone and grabbing at it desperately as he started to slide off.

“Hey! Get away from there!” the demon snarled, now no longer amused.

“Screw you,” Caleb muttered, hanging on to the rock desperately as the force tried to flatten him against the massive stone. He started to push himself up, but Merlin immediately cut him off.

“Do not stand up,” Merlin said urgently. “If you concentrate that force onto your legs, you will compromise the structural integrity of the armor. Lie as flat as possible; spread out the force.”

“I can’t move if I lie flat!”

“You can’t move if your knees pop and your armor implodes, either,” Merlin snapped. “Set the charge at the base of the stone. It will have to do.”

“I can do more,” Caleb ground out.

“No, you cannot. Set. The. Charge.”

Caleb growled, the sound turning into a wordless, meaningless yell . . . but finally he gave up and painfully reached back for the charge. He slapped it hard into the base of the stone as the sickly-looking demon ran over, waving its arms and screaming something that Caleb didn’t understand and didn’t care to try.

“I’ve set the detonation sequence,” Merlin told him. “Get out of there.”

Caleb flopped over on his back, upside-down, pressed against the stone, and flipped a rude gesture to the approaching demon. He grinned under the helm, though he knew the demon couldn’t see him, and his voice was cheerful when he spoke.

“Go to hells. Tell ’em the Atlanteans sent you. Don’t worry,” Caleb said clearly. “You won’t be alone.”

He had a moment to enjoy the enraged look on the demon’s face as it charged toward him, then Caleb rolled off the stone and felt the pressure explode into motion as he was flung out and away from the circle just as Merlin blew the explosives he’d planted.

Everything went red for a moment as he spun wildly in the air, then cleared up just in time for Caleb to see the jungle rapidly approaching . . . and then it all went black.

Chapter 24

The fighting was brutal on a level Elan had never really experienced, short of her very first fight perhaps, though this time the tables were turned.

Stepping up and giving orders, getting the rioters back into some form of organization, had quickly made her a primary target of the rest of the demons in the area. The more dangerous ones in particular were intent on continuing this strategy of eliminating the leaders of the riot wherever they were spotted.

Elan had recognized that early on and decided to take advantage of it.

With staff in hand, she faced off against the first line of demons as they charged in. The metal of her weapon gleamed in the light of the burning fires as she spun it about and whipped it viciously into the faces of her attackers. Bones cracked, flesh tore, and the screams of the injured managed to drown out the sound of the riot in her vicinity.

She raged against her enemy, but the part of her that had been growing since the night her parents died reveled in the violence that swirled about her. A small part of her mind knew that when the fighting was over, she would not be nearly so happy with her responses. In the moment, however, Elan could not bring herself to care.

She swept the staff back and forth, felling demon after demon sent after her, and felt a joyous glee in it.

These creatures had invaded her world.

They had destroyed the society she should have been part of by birthright.

The monsters had terrified the human race into near submission.

They killed my parents.

She found no pity and no mercy in her soul for the demons, and she knew that while she might regret her own satisfaction at some point later, she would not regret that. They offered no mercy, and so she would offer none in return.

The combat was intense all around her, demons literally fighting their way over the bodies of the dead to get to her, but in the process they had lightened the pressure on everyone else. Elan stood in the midst of growing piles of bodies and used them to her advantage with vicious efficiency. In order to get at her, any demon had to sacrifice footing and focus, often looking down to ensure they didn’t trip or stumble, and in the midst of that distraction, more than one died at her end of her staff.

“Stand and fight!” she heard Brokkr cajoling the others behind her. “Or will you let a child stand for you?”

Her focus was on the fight as she stood her ground and defended the few square feet of the city she had claimed as her own, but in her periphery vision, Elan could see and hear weapons being picked up from the ground, men and women regrouping, and the fighting being rejoined.

She had lost count of her kills, but as she dropped another demon—one of the shambling, weak ones almost crippled by the change, despite its rage and hunger for violence and death—Elan felt people push in on either side of her, and then the pressure lessened on her as well. Her arms and legs burned, as did her lungs, but she refused to slow and pushed through it as she looked on to the next target.

Elan knew that if she stopped now, she would likely not be able to move again.

“Push them back!” she ordered over the din, surprised when her voice didn’t crack from exhaustion. “Make them run for their miserable lives or make them dead on the ground!”

*****

Brokkr watched, amused at the responses the girl had cultivated with that statement.

There were shocked looks on both sides of the line, faces of humans and demons alike who were startled right out of their complacency by a human willing to utter something so provocative in the face of a fight to the death, both types of which tickled Brokkr to the core such that he had to hold back the maniacal giggles that threatened to break out.

More interesting was the honest and naked fear he saw on a very few of the demons’ faces . . . and the similarly naked bloodlust on a very few of the humans’ visages.

Seems that Sindri was right. There’s a real undercurrent of rebellion here. I did not think the humans had it in them anymore. It is good to see.

After so long of watching them grovel, there was something satisfying about watching the humans stand up for once.

*****

Finding any sort of leadership for the revolt was nigh onto impossible. For the most part, the fighting had sprung up organically and spread like a viral infestation across the populace of the city. So Sindri didn’t bother looking for leaders. Instead, he set out to both make leaders and have Jol take leadership.

It was easy, as such things went. Jol was a known face in the city, one that had often been derided publicly in the past specifically due to his refusal to bow to the demons’ oppression. That had been a liability for the young man in the past, crippling his social acumen, as so few people wanted to have anything to do with him. But now? That reputation elevated him to whole new levels.

Of course, while Jol would be able to lead them in the moment, the second the fighting was over, he would not only have no political capital to speak of with the various groups, but he’d have no idea how to leverage his newfound reputation into capital. He’d spent too many years publicly looking down on his fellows for them to feel anything more than a distant gratitude to him now.

That, however, was a problem for the future.

While there was fighting afoot, Jol had no problem drawing in people to follow him, and Sindri played shamelessly on that with every group they met. Less than an hour after splitting from Elan and Brokkr, the pair had gathered a mob—Sindri refused to call them anything else, especially an army—of several hundred at least, flooding the streets in places as they swarmed over the uncoordinated demons that were still expecting things to be business as usual.

He could see that was changing.

*****

Jolinr held up a fist, bringing the group behind him to a stop as he looked at the group of demons that had just stepped into their path from side streets up ahead.

“Why are we stopping?” one of the angrier men behind him snarled. “Kill them all!”

Jol said nothing. He just hefted his hammer as he eyed the group.

“What are you stopping for?”

“Group leader is a Fifth Circle,” Jol said finally. “He’s a commander, the lady’s own.”

“So what?” the man demanded.

“So that’s only a quarter of his command,” Jol said before glancing around. “Watch for ambush.”

Murmurs filtered back through the crowd, and Jol emphasized his words by gesturing in both directions and directing the attentions of the group to the side as the lead demon laughed and stepped forward.

“I should be less surprised to see you, Jol,” the demon rumbled, clearly amused. “I expected that you’d be on your knees before Her Lady.”

“That bitch is no lady,” Jol returned, “and while I may have been her toy in my time, that’s only because she had standards. The rest of you fell well below them.”

The commander growled. “You’d do well to learn respect, human.”

“Respect a demon?” Jol laughed. “You’re all filth that can’t even maintain the city you captured. Look around. The only reason the towers are standing is because of human slaves. You rot and you corrupt, and you bring nothing into the world other than death.”

“Your death and the death of your entire world,” the demon commander sneered, “which makes us greater than you by far.”

Jol laughed, the sound booming off the buildings around them.

“Greatness? Greatness built this city,” he said. “Your kind has no greatness in you. Only depths to which you can sink. Every living thing kills to live, death is easy. Where’s the power in that? Being the best killer just means that you die a little later than everyone else. Greatness is measured in time. This city has endured centuries of your rule, and it still stands. That is greatness.”

“It’s our city now.”

“No.” Jolinr shook his head. “The city is gone. It belongs to time. Nothing lasts forever, demon. Not even greatness. Your kind didn’t destroy greatness; you only sent it away a little sooner than it would have gone on its own.”

“Enough words!” the demon commander snarled. “Take them!”

“Watch the flanks!” Sindri yelled, his axe flashing in the air as he directed focus away from the frontal attack.

Demons poured out of the buildings on either side, but they weren’t quite in the optimum position to properly flank the humans, as Jol had called a halt just a little too early to be entrapped and then refused to be goaded into exposing the group. Thanks to that, the demons were mostly a little ahead of the group, focusing their strength into the front of the human formation rather than coming in at the unprotected sides.

Jolinr held himself back with some difficulty, wanting nothing more than to face off with the demon commander himself, but the brothers had trained him well enough not to rush forward and get himself cut off from the group and surrounded. That itch to act made him antsy as he watched the distance close until, finally, the range was closed such that he decided enough was enough.

Jol surged forward, hammer cocked back in a powerful, though telegraphed, swing that culminated when it met the demon commander with the force to pulverize human bones to shards. Against a demon, however, the strength of that blow was reduced significantly. Even so, the demon rocked back, stunned as the force of it was transmitted through his body, spinning him around and opening his flank to Jolinr’s follow-up.

Jol choked up his grip right under the body of the hammer as he drew back, then drove it up vertically into the commander’s jaw, and this time he heard bone crack. He ducked a wild swing down and slammed the hammer into the demon’s knee, putting him off balance. Another crack could be heard, and the demon commander collapsed as his leg gave out.

Jol grinned at the arrogant bastard as the demon came down to face him where he was now waiting on one knee. “See? I told you death was easy.”

The demon’s eyes barely had time to widen before Jol snapped the hammer across in a vicious arc that snapped his head around and cracked the bones in his neck and jaw. He tumbled over, the din of fighting above him growing vanishingly quiet as he struck the ground.

*****

“Scour the demons for weapons,” Elan ordered as she stepped over a fallen demon’s corpse. “More will be coming. We have to move.”

“Who the hells are you?” a belligerent voice snarled in her direction, causing Elan to half turn back to see who’d spoken.

It was a big man, dirty, as the slaves were wont to be. He was holding a jagged sword that had seen its best days several decades past, but it was dripping black ichor and other materials that passed for demon blood, so Elan gave him a brief nod in respect for his ability, if not his manners.

“My name is Elan,” she said coolly. “Yourself?”

In the corner of her eye, highlighted by the ocular induction unit salvaged from her armor, Elan saw Brokkr barely suppressing a laughing fit. He looked ridiculous leaning on the wall like that. She rolled her eyes, turning her focus back to the man who had yet to answer her and was surprised to see that he looked taken aback.

“What?” she asked, planting her staff in the ground, leaning on it as she stretched slightly and noted the demon gore that had spattered her arm.

She wiped it away as best she could, then did the same to her face with the back of her fist, grimacing as she noted the smear left on the back of her hand. Lovely. This filth is going to take hours to get off if it dries.

“I meant who are you to be giving us orders, little girl?” the big man asked, having recovered from his surprise.

Elan cocked her head to one side. “You object to taking their weapons?”

“What? No!”

“Then you don’t believe more will be coming?” she pressed.

“That’s not the point!”

She shook her head, confused. “You have a point?”

Brokkr’s laughter set off several others, igniting a hysterical wave of snickering that swept around them, which seemed to drive the man into a red-faced silence. Elan, assuming he was done, turned away from him to survey the situation a little more closely.

Her first hint of trouble was Brokkr ceasing his laughter and stiffening straight up, his expression turning thunderous.

She turned her head just slightly, the optical system picking up movement in her periphery. Elan twisted, sweeping her staff up and around, and intersected the jagged blade in midair, deflecting it off and down into the ground. She held it there with the leverage of her staff, instinctively driving a left jab into the man’s nose and rocking his head back.

Her follow-through was to step into his position, snap her foot up to the back of his knee, and kick down, taking the tall man down to one knee. She barely refrained from stomping into the strike and shattering said knee, instead merely sweeping the staff shortly across his temple and sending him toppling to the ground, sprawled across a fallen demon’s body.

Silence filled the entire open area as she stood there, looking around.

“Well?” she thundered, shocking everyone. “Pick up the weapons!”

Everyone scattered, rushing to search bodies and retrieve weapons as Brokkr approached her with his amused air having returned.

“That was bracing,” he told her, grinning damn near ear to ear.

Elan scowled at both him and the one who’d attacked her as he lay there in pain. “Why would he attack me?”

“A combination of things,” Brokkr responded casually, too casually for her liking. “You humiliated him, in his eyes, and he felt that he was more deserving of command than you.”

“Command? I am not in command of any of this,” Elan protested. “There is barely anything to command!”

“That is not how they see things,” Brokkr assured her. “However, you handled it well.”

“You barely did anything,” Elan scowled. “You could have helped.”

“Wasn’t needed.” He shrugged. “And ’sides, my brother and I were never warriors, girl.”

“What were you?” She frowned, remembering Kaern. She had assumed that they would have been like him, and he was certainly a warrior.

“Smiths,” Brokkr answered with a simple shrug. “Weaponsmiths of late, but we started out with more peaceable lines.”

“Oh,” she said.

That made some sense.

“We need a plan,” he told her seriously. “Otherwise, flailing about will end in tears when that summoning circle is completed.”

Elan nodded grimly. “I know. I know what I have to do . . .”

“What of them?” Brokkr gestured about.

Elan glanced down at the man who’d attacked her, booting him lightly and eliciting a groan. “You think he was a leader? Some of them seemed to be looking to him.”

Brokkr chuckled but nodded. “Aye, most likely.”

“Great.” She grimaced, dropping to one knee and wrapping a hand in filthy hair, yanking him around so she could slap him across the face. “Hey! Jackass! Wake up.”

The man moaned and, after two more slaps that she enjoyed more than she should have, blinked and opened his eyes.

He looked up at Elan, who was glaring down at him, and started violently, only to be held down by his hair.

“Stop struggling, idiot,” Elan snapped. “We need to have a talk.”

“Who the hells are you?” he snarled up at her.

“Covered that. Elan,” she said, tapping her chest. “Now who the hells are you?”

He snarled at her, only for Elan to drop her staff across his throat and push down.

“I’m Stephan!” he choked out after several seconds, slapping his free hand on the ground.

“Good, now get up,” Elan said, straightening to her feet and kicking his blade away.

She stepped back, giving him room to climb to his own feet. Stephan did so, rubbing his throat and glowering at her as he did.

“Attack me again,” she said with a pleasant smile, “and I highly recommend you don’t miss, because I’ll end you and leave you rotting here with the demons. Clear?”

“Crystal,” Stephan answered sourly.

“Good, because we don’t have time for this idiocy,” she growled.

Honestly, who attacks a fellow human in the middle of a fight like this? Elan thought in annoyance more than anything.

“The city dies tonight,” she said, jabbing him lightly in the chest with her staff. “The only question left now is whether we kill it or if they do.”

“You can’t kill a city, girl.”

“Oh, I can,” Elan said seriously, “but that leaves a major problem.”

“Other than your insanity?” he grumbled unhappily.

“Yes. All these people,” she gestured around, “are going to die if someone doesn’t lead them to safety. You’re nominated.”

“Pardon me?” he blurted, unbelieving.

Elan looked over at Brokkr. “I think he’s too stupid to do the job.”

“Kill him then.” Brokkr shrugged. “We’ll find another.”

“Wait a second!” Stephan threw up his hands. “I just don’t understand what you’re talking about. Why me?”

“For reasons I cannot fathom,” Elan rolled her eyes, “these people were looking to you after the fight, until you decided to be an idiot, at least. So you have drawn the task.” She looked over to Brokkr. “You know where to find the entrance to the old command center?”

Brokkr nodded. “’Course.”

“Good.” Elan looked back, pinning Stephan with a glare. “He’ll show you where to go. You gather everyone you can find. I’ll be sending more down, but you only have a few hours before everyone dies.” She jabbed him again with the staff, pushing him back a couple of steps. “You asked who I am. That was the wrong question.”

She spotted a group that had begun to gather around them, listening quietly as she faced off with the bigger man.

“W . . . what was the right question?” he asked, confused but recognizing the situation he was in . . . to a point, at least.

“You should have asked where did she come from?” Brokkr filled in, far too happily for Elan’s taste, but she nodded.

“W . . . where did you come from?” Stephan asked, looking as though he was uncertain if he wanted to know.

“Not the city,” Brokkr answered for her, “and she can get you all out. Do you really need to know more than that?”

Elan looked around, seeing the eyes around her widen and hearing murmurs start, and she suddenly recognized the position she was in.

How did I get here again? she wondered.

“How do we know that’s true?” Stephan demanded suspiciously.

“Go to the command center with Brokkr, and you’ll find out,” Elan snapped, having a sense of time running out on her.

“That is a point. However,” Brokkr said, “the center will be locked down, won’t it?”

Elan nodded curtly. “A moment . . .” She stepped back. “Are you listening?”

“Of course we’re—” Steph grunted as Brokkr jabbed him in the ribs with the top of his axe.

“She’s not talking to us, idiot.”

“Let them in when they arrive,” Elan said before frowning. “I don’t care. Let them in. We’ll sort them later. There’s no time for this paranoia here, and you know it. Alright. Good.”

She looked back to Brokkr.

“You’re cleared.”

“Good.” Brokkr nodded, then hesitated. “About my brother and Jol . . .”

“I’m heading there now,” Elan promised. “Just save as many as you can.”

“Aye, lass,” he said. “We’ll do just that. Come on, idiot, let’s go.”

With some prodding and grumbling, Elan and Brokkr got Stephan to help get the rest moving in the right direction, with promises to gather up everyone they could along the way. After a few minutes, Elan was standing alone in the open, wondering about her life choices as they’d brought her to this.

Against all odds, I must have done something right.

She grinned and jogged off in the direction where Merlin had located Jolinr and Sindri.

*****

The feeling of dark, sickly power emanating from the standing stones chilled even Ser’Goth’s bones, but there was nothing she could do about it now.

Everything chooses this moment in time to explode. She wondered at the dark irony of that, but until it was all over with and she was standing on the bodies of her enemies, there was little more she could do than fight.

The city was in riot, a nearly unimaginable circumstance just days earlier.

For all that, they were nearly at the end of the line too. The riots were the last gasp of a dying people, who had too long cowered in the stocks for this to make any difference. When the elder came through, the city would be a sacrifice to appease the greater power. She would oversee the final moments of this world as a human planet and then find another front line to take command of.

There was almost an unending list to choose from. This universe was a trunk dimension, from which infinite stable branches existed. That was why it had been such a high priority in the first place, as the strategic value alone was nearly impossible to overestimate.

Most universes produced relatively few stable offshoots, though all produced near infinite splits. Most merely existed for a time, perhaps a fraction of a second or a billion years, and then they would inevitably rejoin with the primary. Those splits were of almost no value; even a billion years was no time at all to the circles. Stable universes had value, and those that produced stable universes were priceless.

Next time, she would pick a nice dead-end but stable universe. One of no strategic value, yet with enough inherent value to be a feather in her cap as ruler.

That was for later. First, there were things to deal with.

Three demon runners converged on her from different directions, bringing news. Ser’Goth nodded to the least panicked-looking.

“Report.”

“Rioters have been contained along the south section, my lady. However, more forces will be required to secure the city there.”

Ser’Goth nodded. “Return. Tell them to hold until relieved.”

He ran off, leaving her to turn to the other two.

“You two look worried. Talk.”

They exchanged nervous glances, then one stepped forward. “Human leaders have taken over the rioters to the east, my lady. They’ve pushed our forces back . . . We lost dozens of stronger demons and scores of—”

“I don’t care about the weaker losses.” She cut him off. “Who are the leaders?”

The messenger looked nervous. “My lady, you know him . . . it is . . .”

“Jolinr,” she hissed, cutting him off. “I should have ended him a long time ago.”

She looked aside, then back to the other demon.

“And you?”

“All demons in the west sector have been . . . killed, my lady.”

“What? How?”

“We don’t know.”

Ser’Goth was perilously close to losing her temper, and she knew it. She closed her eyes, calming herself until the rage turned cold, rather than burning hot, and finally opened them.

“Send our remaining forces to the west,” she ordered. “I will go to the east myself.”

“My lady!”

“Silence!” she snarled. “Jolinr is mine to deal with. Go, convey my orders.”

“Yes, my lady.”

She saw them off before extending her wings fully and pumping them hard, lifting into the air. Once airborne, she circled a few times to gain height and then turned off to the east.

She had an old pet to bring to heel.

Chapter 25

Elan slid along the ground, trying to slow herself with her hands, barely keeping stable as she plummeted down the incline.

“I could have stayed aboveground much easier!” she snarled, irritated beyond belief.

“Yes, but this allows you to do multiple things at once, and as you said, time is running short.” Merlin’s unnaturally calm voice bugged her then for some reason.

“Right, right,” she muttered, slipping off the incline and falling a short distance to land in the dark. She straightened, looking around. “Where am I?”

“Maintenance tunnels,” Merlin responded. “Turn to your right and proceed straight from there. I will guide you to the flood control junctions.”

Elan twisted to the right and took off at a run, heading down the long and surprisingly large tunnel. “This is huge. What did they do here again?”

“Primary maintenance,” Merlin responded. “It meant large machinery much of the time, as the pylons that hold the city up are quite massive, even by the standards of the day.”

Elan didn’t really want to know what kind of machinery existed that needed this much space to operate in, but then she had little enough experience with machinery of any sort. The transport system was the closest she’d gotten to any sort of understanding of the ancient technology, and even that was less than the most basic understanding.

“Be careful. Your scanners are detecting motion ahead.”

“Demon?” she asked, uncertain, though she didn’t slow her pace.

“Unknown,” Merlin replied. “However, it would seem likely.”

“Great.”

Unfortunately, the damage her armor had taken—effectively the complete destruction of it, that was—had also destroyed almost all the advanced scanners. She only had the basic visual systems, which, according to Merlin, were the least effective ones because they were, in large part, crippled by using her eyes as the primary scanners.

Still, Merlin could see more than she could, so she would take what help she could get.

“Target is a hundred yards ahead. Unknown motion is increasing.”

Elan just redoubled her speed, running headlong into the dark. The time for caution had long since passed, which suited her just fine because she’d never been one for caution in the first place.

Something lunged at her out of the darkness, and she only spotted it because a tiny gleam of light reflected off dark eyeballs at the last moment. Elan reacted by going low as the lunge brought the figure over her, then snapped upright and leveraged the staff between its legs. She spun it over and slammed it into the ground with a vicious force, drawing back her weapon to stab down and finish the fight.

She pulled the blow at the last second, her eyes locking on the terrified face of a boy not much older than she, staring up at her.

“Merlin?”

“Human. Or as close as I can say, given the current lack of scanners,” he answered instantly.

Elan snarled but rose away from the boy and glanced around. There was movement in the darkness; she could see it now, if only barely.

“Get up,” she ordered.

The boy got to his feet hesitantly. “You’re . . . not a demon?”

Elan shot him a glare that could easily have been mistaken for demonic, but she’d likely have killed anyone who suggested it.

“What are you doing down here?”

“Hiding.”

“Stupid,” Elan muttered furiously.

“The demons—”

“Not you,” she snapped. “Me. Damn it, how many are down here?”

“I . . . I don’t know,” he stammered.

“Merlin, we’ll kill thousands!” Elan hissed, shocking those listening. “We can’t.”

Merlin’s voice echoed in the corridor, startling everyone, including Elan, as he spoke in the open.

“Anyone remaining in the city by morning will be dead anyway. The elder are coming. You know this.”

“But . . .” She looked around helplessly.

“Send them to the command center and complete the mission,” Merlin ordered. “There are no other options.”

Elan screamed, scaring everyone around her, but nodded.

“Fine,” she snapped, turning to the boy. “You, gather everyone you can. Merlin, can you guide them?”

“I can,” Merlin confirmed, “from point to point, at least.”

“I’m not going anywhere you tell me to!” the boy said. “You’re one of them, you’re a—urk!”

The boy gagged as Elan grabbed him by the throat, pushing him back into the closest wall.

“Call me a demon,” she whispered. “Go ahead, I dare you. There is almost nothing I hate more than that comparison, and you do not want to see me angry right now. Do you understand?”

He shivered, but that was all until she pushed a little harder.

“Well? Do you?”

“Yes! Yes, I understand!”

Elan let him loose, pushing him to the ground, and looked around. Forms were almost visible now, features nearly recognizable.

“That goes for all of you,” she growled, as angry at herself for overreacting as at the boy. “I am not a demon. I kill demons. Tonight, I’m going to kill a lot of demons. I’d rather not kill you too, but if you don’t listen to me, I will. Follow the voice’s directions, and it will get you out of the city. If you stay, you either die, or you change.”

“Proceed south,” Merlin said, a red light flashing down along the corridor.

Elan looked around, eyes blazing as no one moved.

“Now!” she yelled.

Most of them just started running, but some paused to gather up younger fellows.

Elan took a few breaths, calming herself. “Look after each other,” she said softly, “and listen to Merlin. He will guide you to safety.”

“What about . . .?” One of the younger ones looked up.

“Your parents?” Elan asked, getting a shake from the child. “Just . . . others?”

The young girl nodded vigorously.

“We’ll save everyone we can,” Elan said. “I can’t promise more. Now go. Tell anyone you can what is happening. Take them with you.”

She watched them run off.

“Merlin, can you address the rest of the people in the city?”

“I cannot run the risk of alerting the demons to the plan,” Merlin said softly. “That would bring their strength down on everyone you want to save.”

“Then just the ones you can identify as being alone,” Elan pleaded. “Tell them to gather up who they can. At least . . . at least give them a chance.”

Merlin was silent for a time but finally came back. “Very well. Your objective is just ahead.”

“Right.” Elan nodded, turning down the corridor again and heading for the flood controls.

*****

Across the city, isolated pockets of humans were startled when the walls began speaking to them.

“The city is no longer safe. There is an escape,” the voice told them, terrifying people by the hundreds, if not thousands, before going on. “Follow these directions if you want to live.”

Not everyone listened, but for many, they had been without hope for so long that any glimmer in the darkness was a piercing and blinding light they couldn’t ignore.

People emerged from their hiding places by the thousands, looking furtively in all directions, and scurried through the streets as they followed the directions they’d received. Most were surprised to find others they knew doing the same, and small groups merged into larger ones.

A migration was in play.

*****

The controls were fairly straightforward and surprisingly intact, given how much grime covered them.

“These systems were built to be completely indestructible,” Merlin replied when she said as much.

“Then how are we going to do this?” Elan asked, confused.

“There is a difference between normal wear, even accidental damage, and intentional sabotage,” Merlin replied, directing her to clean off a section of a panel. “Particularly when the saboteur has the master access codes. Pull that panel.”

Elan did as she was told, revealing a pattern of metal and other materials she knew very little about.

“Pull this section,” Merlin told her, highlighting part of the wall, “and jump the connection to this section.”

Elan carefully did, then closed the panel again. “That’s it?”

“Not even close,” Merlin said with a dry laugh. “However, if we can do this a few more times, then when we reactivate the central flood control systems, they will unbalance the system instead of doing what they were designed to. That will be the tricky part.”

“What?”

“The central system can only be accessed in one place,” Merlin answered, “and that is in the central spire at the center of the city. I believe it is currently being used as the center of the local demonic . . . government.”

“Of course it is,” Elan spat. “Fine. We’ll work it out. Where to next?”

“One more flood control system to rewire,” Merlin told her, “and then up to contact Jolinr and the other one.”

“Got it. Direct me.”

Merlin did, and Elan ran off into the dark, another job to do.

*****

Jolinr roared his exultation as he stood in the line of battle, slamming into the demonic forces with merciless rage. The roar was echoed up and down the line as men and demons clashed and died.

He’d been born for this moment, Jol thought as the sheer joy of the battle washed through him with every strike of his hammer. Humans were taking a stand against the demons, and they were winning!

Why had they waited so damn long to do this? It boggled his mind, but in the moment he no longer cared. The time had come, and that was enough.

He hammered down demons to the right and to the left of him, clearing a path to the high-level foes who had stood back to let their weaker fodder wear down the human line. Too bad for them that wasn’t going to happen this night, not if Jol had anything to say about it. He was so wired up, he was sure he could fight all night long and still be good for more come morning.

“Kill them all!” he roared, and similar sentiments echoed in the air from either side of him.

The two lines clashed violently. Swords and spears and whatever could be used as clubs were swung and stabbed down against claws and teeth and whatever weapons the demons had. The results were predictable; mass casualties tore both lines apart as they pushed deeper into one another.

Jolinr pushed harder than anyone else, wading through the dead and dying to get to the more challenging opponents waiting just on the other side of the fodder they had sent forth.

He roared, killing another scabby and diseased Ninth Circle demon as he forced his way to the other side and held his hammer out, directly aiming at the leader of the demons’ side.

“Come on, you coward!” Jol roared. “Fight me!”

The demon sneered at him, casually gesturing others forward. Jolinr didn’t wait to meet them, instead surging forward in response.

“Jol!” Sindri screamed in the background, caught in the tide of men and demons fighting to the death. “Don’t be a fool!”

Jolinr wasn’t interested in listening or in waiting.

He met the demons hard, bringing his hammer down on them from his superior height and driving them into the ground. He barely even slowed as he climbed over the falling bodies of demons and dove at the demon leader, much to the wide-eyed shock and fear of his target.

Before he could fall on his target, however, a weight fell from the sky and slammed Jol into the stone ground beneath him. His breath was blown from his lungs, and he curled up in pain and shock from the surprise strike. A hand wrapped around the back of his neck as he lay there, and Jol felt himself lifted into the air and twisted around to see the face of Ser’Goth staring at him, a decidedly creepy smile on the winged demoness’s visage.

“Ah, Jol,” Ser’Goth said sweetly, a bad sign for anyone who knew the demoness, “you and I have unfinished business.”

She turned to the demon leader, who was looking smugly at the trapped human now, and sneered.

“I saw that fear in your eyes, Mithr,” she hissed. “Eliminate all these humans, and quickly, or I will see it again. Briefly.”

The demon’s eyes widened in shock, but she turned away from him before he could say anything and pumped her wings hard. Ser’Goth rose from the battle, shooting up quickly into the air with Jolinr in her grip, and angled back toward the city center as she flew off through the buildings.

*****

The demon commander watched for a moment, a fearful worry crossing his face before he focused back on the task.

“Kill them all! You heard the lady!” he ordered.

“Oh, boy.” A voice startled him. “Ye have no idea how truly forned you are here.”

The commander looked around and then down, to see a short man standing there where the boy had fallen. The demon sneered at the man. “And what do you know of things, shorty?”

The short man hefted a surprisingly large axe and slapped it once into his palm before it started to glow with an unearthly light that caused the commander to fall back a step.

“I know that the one I wanted to kill just left,” the short man said, “and I know that you really should call me Mister Shorty, but the second part won’t be a problem for long . . . Mister Dead Man.”

*****

Elan pulled herself up and swung her legs over the lip of the edge she was climbing, sliding out into the muck and filth of the street above. The two flood control sections in the area had been dealt with, and now she had to get to Sindri and Jol. Merlin had been having trouble monitoring them, but given the level of fighting in the area they were located, she couldn’t really be terribly surprised by that.

She got to her feet and looked up and down the street before turning and jogging toward the sound of fighting.

Whoa.

Elan was set back on her heels by the sheer scope of the fighting as she arrived, looking over the bodies—both living and dead—that filled the street ahead of her.

There were thousands of people milling about, most of them unable to get to the front to help in the fighting because of the crowds. Elan shook her head and ducked out to the left, following Merlin’s instructions, running into the lower level of a building and up one floor.

From above she could see the fighting better, and it didn’t take long for her to find Sindri, who was laying absolute waste to a whole cadre of demons that had made the tactical mistake of surrounding him. She winced as she watched his axe tear through a particularly large demon, leaving it in two ragged pieces on the ground as the short spinning dervish continued on to whale on another.

I don’t see Jol, Elan thought grimly, but ignored that and put a foot up through the window she was braced on.

She waited for the flow of fighting to come her way again and then leapt into the air with staff in hand. Elan rammed the weapon down through the skull of a particularly tall demon and used that to slow her fall. She turned the fall into a spin as she swung around the demon and planted two muck-covered boots into the face of another before breaking the staff out of the demon’s skull and dropping to the ground.

Demons and humans alike paused in their fighting, her entrance enough to cause both groups to simply gape.

Elan was getting used to that, actually, and didn’t waste any time wondering at it. She spun her staff about her hands in front of her, whipping it viciously into anything that stepped into her path and pausing only to deliver coup strikes to any demons she managed to fell along the way.

She struck out in all directions with all the strength in her upper body, not noticing the staff slowly gleaming with an internal power that grew with every strike. She kept her eye on a much brighter weapon glowing in the distance and fought in that direction, intent on joining up with the only face in the mass she knew.

Minutes that felt like hours went by. A burn was tearing up her arms, but Elan showed no sign of slowing as she sent another demon to the ground and opened a path for humans to flood in behind her. It was then she spotted Sindri in the distance, leaning on his axe as he stood on a massive pile of bodies. She looked about her, surprised to find that much of the fighting seemed to be over, and cautiously approached the unmoving, short figure.

“Sindri?” Elan asked carefully from well out of reach of his blade.

She’d nearly taken enough people’s heads off herself and knew that you didn’t just walk up to someone on a battle high.

This time it seemed an unnecessary caution, as the short man just looked up at her with a weary smile.

“Hello, Elan,” he greeted her. “Fancy meeting you here.”

Elan didn’t respond immediately, his tone screaming at her something she didn’t understand. She looked around. “Where’s Jol?”

In that instant she knew what his tone had been screaming and regretted her question, but it was too late.

Sindri slumped, his eyes closing as he leaned heavily on his axe and lifted a familiar hammer. Elan’s gut turned cold as she recognized the weapon Jol never parted with.

“He’s gone. She took him.”

Elan frowned. “She? Who . . . wait? She?”

“Aye. Herself arrived and took him up into the sky.” Sindri nodded up into the air between the buildings that towered over them. “I expect she took him back to her lair for a little amusement before she killed him. It’s her way.”

Elan seethed. “Where?”

“You don’t stand a chance, lass. Don’t even think it.”

“I asked where.”

Elan had left people behind before and didn’t ever want to experience that again. She’d do anything possible, and a few things impossible, to prevent it.

“Her lair.” Sindri shrugged, almost uncaring as he gestured. “The tallest point in the whole damned city.”

Elan turned, eyes widening.

He was pointing to the central tower.

Of course he is, she snorted. It was almost amusing, the way her life seemed to go.

“Well,” she said, forcing a smile, “that’s convenient.”

“What?” Sindri looked at her, confused.

“That’s where I’m going too.”

*****

Ser’Goth tossed the boy to the floor of her chambers, leaving him to slide along the smooth marble floor until he smacked into the far wall.

“You know, Jol,” she said smoothly as she casually tucked her wings in, stretched out her neck, and reached up to rub her own shoulders, “you’ve always been a source of such amusement . . . and pleasure. Oh, the pleasure . . . but I do digress . . . Sadly, I cannot forgive your impertinence this time.”

Jolinr grimaced and slowly pushed himself off the floor, wincing as he slipped and fell back against the wall. He decided to just sit there as Herself slipped off her armor, occasionally smirking over in his direction.

“I’m so terribly sorry,” he told her sarcastically. “If I’d known you felt so strongly about it, I wouldn’t have slaughtered so many of your underlings.”

Her laughter caught him by surprise, and he eyed her carefully.

“Oh, Jol,” she said, shaking her head. “You think this is about dead demons? I’ve long enjoyed watching you work, thinning the ranks of the weak. No, my little Jol, if they were weak enough for you to kill, I’m quite happy to see them go.”

Jolinr groaned as he pushed himself up. “If you knew and didn’t care, then why?”

“Why? Perhaps because you struck me?” She pouted, rubbing her completely healed jawline. “Nasty man you are, striking a lady . . .”

Jol snorted. “Title or not, a lady is not something you can claim to be.”

“That hurts.” She sniffed mockingly before looking at him with narrowed eyes. “And then, of course, there’s that little blonde tart you have been hanging around. Really now, Jol, am I not good enough for you?”

“In a word? No.”

Ser’Goth’s arm flashed, and Jolinr jerked as a dagger was suddenly embedded deep in the stone wall by his head. He stared at it for a moment before looking back at her. The humor was gone from her eyes. Now a naked rage burned there, and for a moment he felt real fear.

Then it was gone, and she straightened and her tolerant, amused air returned.

“You shouldn’t make me angry, Jol. I might choose to end you quicker and far more painfully than I originally had planned,” she said, carefully checking the state of her talons before buffing them on the leather of her harness.

“That’s fine by me,” he growled, pushing himself off the wall and lunging at her with his bare hands outstretched.

Chapter 26

Merlin was stunned by the sheer number of people who’d actually made it to the depths of the city, where the entryway to the command center was located. He made the best use he could of the active scanners, looking for infiltrators, but couldn’t find anything and reluctantly found himself following through on Elan’s desires.

The milling people were startled and then stunned when a massive door hissed as a seal broke, causing dust and dirt to fly from the cracks before it sank into the wall and then slid out of the way.

“Well, what are you lot waiting for?” Brokkr snapped. “That’s an invitation if I’ve seen any. Move on!”

Merlin projected himself on the inside, gesturing them to the right as they entered.

“Proceed directly to the transport section,” he said calmly. “We will transit people out in lots of five hundred at a time. You will be taken to a neutral station until security is ready to receive you. Be calm; you are safe.”

Brokkr came to a stop next to the projection and turned to watch the sea of humanity flow past.

“Merlin.” He inclined his head, not bothering to look at the projection. “Heard a lot about you.”

“I don’t engage in small talk with demons,” Merlin replied coldly.

Brokkr chuckled. “You’ve likely done more than that with quite a few. Our kind is almost impossible to detect unless we’re actively tapping into our heritage. Even have all the same organs in all the same places.”

“Infiltrators,” Merlin hissed, disgusted.

“Possibly a few,” Brokkr said with a shrug. “Most of us hate the circles just as much as you. More even, because we remember a time when they weren’t what they are now.”

Merlin looked him up and down skeptically. “Pardon me if I don’t take your word.”

“Oh, I’d be shocked if the legendary Merlin did any less,” Brokkr said, amused. “My brother and I never worked in your circles, of course. We were always more the support sorts, and you dealt with command and frontline elites. You knew some of us, though, for certain. Do you recall General Ibilian?”

Merlin twisted, glaring at him. “You lie.”

“No need for lies. Ibilian was one of us,” Brokkr answered. “We were tasked with blunting the circles’ invasion of this universe . . . Sadly, they outmaneuvered us. None of us saw the plague coming . . . It was smarter than the circles usually manage.”

Merlin seethed for a moment but settled back. “It was an unusual act, given their later tactical . . . limitations.”

“Yes . . . we never figured out who planned that one,” Brokkr admitted. “It was brilliant, though. Completely redirected vast amounts of resources from the war effort and allowed them to take this universe—one of the Nine Pillars of Creation, no less—for themselves with almost no losses . . . by their standards, of course.”

Merlin frowned. “Nine Pillars?”

“Extradimensional metaphysics are slightly deep for discussing here and now,” Brokkr said firmly. “Do you know where my brother is?”

Merlin blinked at the change but quickly accessed that information and frowned.

“He has joined Elan on her mission,” Merlin said.

“Odd. Neither of us are the mission sort,” Brokkr said, grumbling slightly.

“It seems like the demoness in charge here . . .”

“Herself?” Brokkr hissed. “What about that bitch?”

“She took Jolinr from the midst of battle, apparently back to her lair,” Merlin answered, much to Brokkr’s growing alarm. “Since Elan was already heading that way, albeit via a circuitous route, your brother has joined her on her mission.”

“Damn.” Brokkr swept up his axe. “Can you lead me to them?”

Merlin examined him for a moment.

“Please,” the short man said seriously, no hint of sarcasm in his tone.

“Very well. Follow my directions,” Merlin said finally, sounding much put out as he did.

“That’ll be fine.”

*****

Elan was covered in dirt and muck and slime she’d rather not think about as she moved to climb out of the sewers she’d had to navigate to get to the last flood control mechanism, but the job was done, and they were now only a short distance from the tower and the end of both tasks that remained on the board.

“We should have come straight,” she said to Sindri as she stepped up beside the short man, who, somehow, was mostly clean.

“No point,” he told her. “Saving Jol does us little good if we all die because the elder arrive. He’s a big boy. He can survive on his own for a while.”

“What if he can’t?” she demanded through clenched teeth.

“Then he can’t . . . and we mourn him, avenge him, and move on,” Sindri said wearily, then shrugged. “Possibly not in that order.”

The two were moving quickly now, though not quite running, through the streets as they headed for the center of the demon city and the core of its demon control. With all the rioting out and around, it was surprisingly quiet as they approached the tower. Few of the demons in the area bothered to even glance at them as they passed, seemingly under the assumption that they had to be alright if they were this deep in the city.

The great doors at the base of the tower were open as they passed through unchallenged, causing Sindri to snort.

“It can’t be this easy, can it?” Elan asked, beginning to get nervous. She would have preferred straight up fighting over the tension of not knowing when an attack might come.

“Arrogance is a common demonic trait,” Sindri said, “though not limited to them by any means. That said, no, it won’t be this easy. There are few guards here because only the truly insane would beard Herself in her own lair, girl. She’s a Third Circle, the deadliest demon on this world, and she has little fear of us.”

“Then we’ll have to teach her, won’t we?” Elan asked mildly as they continued to walk.

That earned her another snort.

“I suppose we shall.”

Elan swallowed. “I’m going for the controls.”

“Aye.” Sindri nodded. “I’ll go up. If he’s here, he’ll be on the top floor . . . her suite.”

“When I’m done,” Elan said, “if you’re not down, I’m coming up to get you.”

“Don’t be foolish. If I’m not down, I’m dead, and so is Jol,” Sindri snapped. “Do your job and get out of here. This isn’t yours to worry about.”

“If you’re not down, I’m coming up after you,” she repeated as she split off. “Get used to it.”

Sindri watched her walk away, laughing softly.

“Crazy little girl.”

He came to a stop at one of the tower’s elevators and stared at the doors for a moment before stepping up and then through as they opened to admit him.

“Top floor,” he ordered as they closed.

Good luck, child.

*****

Jol grunted as he was slammed into the wall, slowly starting to slide down it before Ser’Goth hammered into the wall on either side of him, cracking the marble alongside his head as she pressed her face in close to his bloody and bruised visage.

“Oh, poor boy can’t take it?” she asked, her tone breathy as she grinned at him. “I always knew you’d end this way, poor, poor Jol. It’s destiny.”

He flinched away as she kissed him, then stepped back and backhanded him off the wall and across the room. He hit the floor in a roll that turned into a slide, stopping abruptly as he struck a wall with a hollow thud. Surprisingly, Jol didn’t think he’d broken any bones that time, though he wasn’t sure if he could tell with any reliability.

He painfully pushed against the ground, struggling to his knees, and then planted one foot down so he could shakily stand up.

Ser’Goth watched, amused as her former pet and current prey stood on unsteady legs and held out bloodied fists in front of him as though he were actually going to fight.

“So strong,” she said, hitting him with her aura enough to make him hesitate as she flashed in beside him, circling around as she traced a line over his shoulder and neck with one finger. “So stupid.”

From behind she struck him, sending him face-first into the marble floor and skidding some distance away while she rolled her eyes.

“You’re so hopeless, Jol, love . . .” she drawled. “Still unable to hold back your baser instinctual weakness. You’re nothing but food, and you really should have learned that by now. It’s a pity, honestly . . . because I would love to have seen what sort of demon you made after a few centuries of the change.”

“You’re one crazy bitch. You know that, I assume?”

Ser’Goth spun around, startled to find a short human standing in the doorway to her suite, a surprisingly large axe in his hand. She recognized him after a second, and her eyes lit up with that recognition.

“You!” she said, genuinely pleased. “Excellent. Thank you ever so much for not making me hunt you down. I’ve been curious about you for a little while now. Former rebel, I assume?”

The man laughed. “Oh, ye have no clue, do you?”

Ser’Goth frowned.

This wasn’t proceeding as she might have expected, but then she hadn’t expected to be confronted in her own suite except on her own terms either. It was when his axe began to glow that she realized that she wasn’t dealing with some run-of-the-mill human.

“Rune blade,” she hissed, eyes darting to where Jol was still lying on the ground.

This was the second runic weapon she’d encountered in rather little time, and she was getting aggravated at what were normally tools of the demons’ trade, albeit rare ones, showing up on the other side.

“You’re going to die slowly,” she said as she stalked closer to the axe wielder, drawing her blade from her hip, “begging for death, unless you tell me where you acquired that axe.”

The man laughed at her.

Laughed!

“The answer to that would just burn you right up,” he told her, “but let’s see if you’re worth answering. My money says . . . you ain’t.”

Ser’Goth snarled, bringing her sword up fast, and charged.

*****

The metal thump of the staff was followed swiftly by a softer, meatier thump of a body hitting the floor as Elan continued into what had once been a primary control room for the entire city.

She proceeded immediately to a wall panel on the far side and wrenched it open, exposing more of the circuitry she had spent the past several hours modifying in ways that would have horrified the original designers to no end.

“What now?” she hissed softly.

“You’ll have to make a physical connection across the following circuits,” Merlin answered, highlighting the areas in her vision. “Once these hard lines have been drawn, I can alter the coding to do what is required.”

“Why couldn’t you do that before this?” Elan asked as she worked.

“Because no one is quite so foolish as to completely entrust something like this city to a purely software-based system,” Merlin told her. “Coding can be breached and altered from a distance. Hard lines must be altered on-site, which makes them much more secure.”

“We’ve done it easily enough,” she muttered, bypassing a circuit.

“Perhaps, but each time we did, a new alarm was created,” Merlin said. “At its height, those alarms would have brought an army of security and maintenance people down on each of the modifications within minutes. Today . . . well, the demons don’t monitor alarms.”

“Lucky for us,” Elan mumbled, finishing her task. “Done.”

“Good. I will alter the system now,” Merlin told her. “Time to move.”

“Are they down yet?” she asked tensely.

“Elan . . .”

“Merlin, are they down?”

Merlin sighed. “No.”

She nodded determinedly. “Alright, I’m going up.”

“There is no time for this,” Merlin growled as she headed for the elevators.

“If the summoning circle opens . . . flood the city,” she ordered, “whether I’m still here or not.”

*****

Axe and sword clashed, throwing out sparks and blinding flashes of light as the two mystical blades met in opposition.

Ser’Goth glowered down at the little man who was grinning too widely back at her. The smile unnerved her greatly. It seemed as if he had no fears at all, no sense of the threat he was under. It made her wonder just who she was dealing with, but to find that out, she would first have to separate the fool from his toy and then take him apart a piece at a time until he talked.

She broke contact, then swiped down at the little bastard, but he was already rolling clear. The height difference was doubly irritating, and she found herself constantly misjudging and swinging over the little bastard’s head!

“Hold still, you mangy pest!” she snarled, stomping after him, throwing cutting swings as he evaded.

“I’ll go with . . . no to that,” he told her, dodging back several more times before swinging up to block and deflect her blade off with his axe, driving it into the floor and holding it there as he kicked into her legs.

Ser’Goth snarled but kept her leg from buckling and backhanded the little man away.

He hit in a skidding slide, flipping over his shoulder as she lunged after him, and barely made it back to his feet in time to block the next strike.

“Luck like yours should be against all universal laws,” she snarled.

“Since when does your kind care about universal laws?”

Ser’Goth hissed, throwing a flurry of blows at the little man, driving him back step after step as he struggled to block, until she succeeded in driving him into one of the little trophies she kept of earlier conquests. The display tangled up his legs, driving him back to the ground, and she stood over him for a moment as she lifted her blade high.

“One piece at a time, little man,” she growled, swinging at his splayed-out legs.

The blade flashed down, a streak of greenish white magic in its wake, and slammed into a flash of silver white that, in turn, froze it in place.

Ser’Goth howled in rage, eyes following the staff up from where it had blocked her blade to the girl holding it in place. Piercing blue eyes looked back at her, gleaming with barely suppressed power.

“You!” Ser’Goth hissed. “Why. Won’t. You. Die?”

The blonde girl-child just smiled sweetly at her.

“Sorry, I don’t answer to demons . . . especially not hags like you.”

*****

Elan smiled as the demon screamed in rage.

“Hag!” The demoness was outraged. “Hag? You filthy little urchin, what would you know of beauty?”

Elan shrugged, bracing her staff on the floor to keep the leverage of the sword off Sindri while the little man scrambled out from under it.

“I know you clearly don’t have it,” she said blithely. “Have your little minions been lying to you?”

The demoness screamed, drawing her blade back as she snarled.

“Enough of this!” she bellowed, finally giving up on her desire to deal with Jolinr and his new friends personally. “Guards!”

Elan tilted her head to one side, then the other, as she noticed motion in her peripheral vision.

Not good. I thought she was alone . . .

Four figures flickered into being, one at each of the walls, spears tipped with thick blades already in hand.

“Kill these impertinent pieces of filth,” the demoness snarled, waving at Sindri and Elan, who both fell back and shifted to keep all four of the newcomers in their sights.

“Well, this could have gone better,” Sindri said dryly.

“Really?” Elan asked. “You don’t say.”

“Oh, do Shut up.” Sindri grumbled as he got himself ready.

The guards converged on them steadily, marching in lockstep as the demoness stepped back and watched with a gleeful expression.

“You’ve done so much,” she laughed. “Bled and sacrificed, no doubt. Caused me no end of trouble . . . and for what? You fail. Look behind you.”

Elan’s eyes narrowed, but she risked a glance behind her to where a large window overlooked the city. Beyond it, nestled deep in the cluster of buildings, she could see a deep red glow beginning to arise.

“The elder are come,” Ser’Goth announced. “The summoning has begun.”

Elan tensed, her knuckles white around the staff . . . and then she relaxed.

“Merlin,” she said, shocking the demoness into silence by the mention of the name alone. “Do it.”

There was a pause, but then Merlin’s voice reverberated through the room from all sides.

“It is done.”

A shudder went through the building, then another, and two more, and then again . . . and for a moment that seemed to be all.

“What did you just do?” Ser’Goth demanded, eyes wide as she looked about. “What did you do?”

Elan didn’t say anything, but she didn’t have to as the floor suddenly tilted, and everyone in the room had to struggle to stay standing up.

They looked out the windows, and they could all see the raging white water of the ocean as it began to rush into the city, the streets vanishing below the rising tide as the entire city tilted into the sea.

*****

People screamed as the floor beneath them shifted, threatening to spill them to the ground.

Merlin remained fixed in place, watching over the people as they were steered into the transport system as quickly as he could manage.

“Do not panic!” he called as calmly as he could project. “The doors will hold. Proceed to transport as you’ve been instructed, stay calm, and everything will be fine.”

While he was guiding the people, part of his focus was elsewhere.

Mapping alternate evacuation points . . .

Merlin searched all available assets, looking for ways the others could escape the city, even as it went down. There were few potential routes, sadly, but there were some.

He located Brokkr, who was already at the tower, and linked into the closest open communications system.

“Brokkr, the city is going to sink,” Merlin said, surprised slightly by how little sadness he felt about that.

“Yeah, I sort of got that. What happened?” the little man snapped, still heading for the elevator.

“The summoning was complete. Elan gave the order to initiate,” Merlin said.

Brokkr chuckled, amused by it all. A child with the guts to make a call like that was rare enough, but one who actually had the sense to do so at the correct time . . . that was one for the books.

“She’d have made a good combat elite,” he said, nodding.

“She would indeed. I have been plotting alternate egress points,” Merlin said.

“Have one for me?”

“Indeed. Do not go to the top floor. Instead . . .”

Brokkr listened closely as the elemental intelligence spoke.

Chapter 27

Elan twisted as the demon lunged at her, evading as he tried to skewer her with the polearm he wielded, snapping her own staff out and clipping his knee on the edge of the ever increasing angle of the floor. His leg buckled under the stress, and as he toppled, she danced over the sweep of the polearm and spun, whipping the staff around until it cracked into his skull and sent him spinning on his way.

The angle of the floor wasn’t extreme yet, but it felt worse somehow than it seemed to be. She wasn’t sure, but Elan suspected that the building was twisting under the strain, and the top floor was somehow falling faster than the rest.

She didn’t know why she thought that—it seemed a strange thought to her—but she was certain of only one thing . . . they needed to get out of there before the strain became too much.

Or before the ocean swallows us whole. Either option seems horrible.

“This is bad!” Sindri shouted.

Elan cast him an incredulous look. “Really? I wouldn’t have guessed!”

“Is this really the time for teenage sarcasm?” he countered, blocking a strike from one of the demonic guards.

“My city!” Ser’Goth screamed above them all, staring out the windows at the city that lay open below her.

The sea was claiming the city now, street by street. Entire sections were underwater, and she could see the stormy seas beyond eagerly washing up over the roofs of lower-slung buildings and roaring down the thoroughfares of the city.

Elan ignored her for the moment, focusing on another attacking guard. She spun, deflecting the polearm aside and into the ground with her staff, then reversed to strike across the demon’s head, while Sindri used the opening to split the demon near in twain with his axe.

It went down, leaving two more trying to get to them, but the ground felt less steady by the second as they fought, and staying afoot was becoming a difficult proposition on the smooth marble floor.

“Get to Jol!” Elan ordered, pointing. “I’ll hold them back. We need to get off this building!”

*****

“Easier said than done,” Sindri muttered as the girl screamed her order at him, but he scrambled across the floor on all fours as much as on his feet.

Jolinr was in bad shape but still breathing and mostly conscious when he got to the boy. Sindri half picked him up, getting the boy to a sitting position partially.

“Come on, Jol.” He started dragging him along the floor. “We need to get out of here.”

“Leave me,” Jolinr said groggily. “Can’t run. Slow you down.”

“Boy, you’ve been slowing us down since we picked you up.” Sindri laughed. “What else is new? No reason to give up on you now.”

Jolinr tried to bat his arms away, but the young man was far too weak to pull that off, so Sindri kept dragging him back across the floor as he cast around for the best way out.

Elevator? No, that’s suicide. Stairs? From here? Not much better.

He looked out the windows, trying to judge if there was any chance at all of jumping to another rooftop.

Not in this lifetime. Not for Jol and the girl, at least.

Sindri knew he could survive it, might even live through a plunge to the surface level . . . though that was a bit more questionable. The water itself likely wouldn’t kill him, but any number of things in the water might. He was an immortal being, but in all honesty, Sindri was giving himself not much better than fifty-fifty odds of getting out of this alive himself.

Jol and the girl?

Not a chance.

Making the best of an impossible situation, Sindri redirected and started dragging Jol toward the stairs.

*****

Ser’Goth stood in utter stunned shock.

Her city . . . her city was sinking.

Of all the things she had ever experienced, ever expected . . . this was perhaps the most unreal moment of her very long existence.

Already prone to anger, the demoness felt a purely apoplectic rage building as she watched the white water wash over the lower buildings out on the docking arms of the city and felt the floor buck underfoot as it tilted even more.

An inarticulate scream tore itself from her throat, and she spun about, raging with every breath she drew.

“What did you do to my city?” she snarled, fixating on the slip of a blonde girl. “My city!”

The girl was struggling to keep her footing and not paying nearly as much attention to her as she felt she deserved. Ser’Goth locked her talons into the floor, puncturing the marble with ease to hold herself in place. Step-by-step she stalked across the floor, eyes locked on the girl.

“You are going to pay for this,” she snarled.

The blonde looked up at her. “You mean worse than falling to my death or, you know, drowning if I survive the fall?”

Ser’Goth snarled, flinging herself at the girl in a rage, taloned hands outstretched.

*****

Elan had to throw herself back to evade the talons of the demoness, planting her staff into Ser’Goth’s torso as she rolled and redirecting the attack over her body.

The results were a heavy smack and cracked marble as the demoness slammed into the far wall, upside-down no less, but also Elan was left skidding along the floor toward the window as she tried to gain some kind of control over her slide.

A few feet from the window, she slowed herself enough to come to a stop and roll over to her front so she could climb to her feet. Elan risked a look over her shoulder as she did and was instantly dizzy as she looked more down on the city than she had expected and it all seemed too very far . . . yet too close by far.

Taking a breath, she tore her gaze away from that and focused back on the demoness, who was picking herself up off the floor above her.

“I am going to watch you die,” the demoness promised as she slowly stalked down the incline toward Elan.

Elan snorted. “All you have to do for that is wait a few minutes.”

“Too long!” The demoness jumped again. This time her wings fanned out, and she descended in a more guided fashion, though still frighteningly fast.

Elan braced herself, waiting for the last moment, then threw herself aside to dodge the attack. The demoness merely shifted her wings, altered trajectory, and intercepted Elan in midair. She felt a burning sensation along her arm and chest as talons tore at her skin, and then the world went upside down as she was thrown across the room.

Elan hit the ground rolling and skidding, sliding down into the floor-to-ceiling window as she came to a stop. She lay stunned for a few seconds, but enough sense came back to her to throw herself aside again when a flutter of sound reached her ear from far too close.

The demoness screamed in frustration when her taloned feet dug into marble instead of flesh, and Elan rolled to her feet.

She braced herself, leveling the staff ahead of her as the demoness glared across the space between them.

There were no words this time when the demoness charged, and Elan silently met her at the midway point. Talons flashed, drawing sparks and light off the metal of the staff as Elan blocked and twisted to bat away the potentially lethal attacks. She spun and flipped the staff about, crooking it in her left arm as she drew back her right and thrust it out in a palm strike to the demoness’s chest.

A word she did not know exploded from Elan’s throat and mouth, driving a surge of power down through her shoulder and out into the strike with a flash of light and an explosive sound. The demoness was lifted off her feet and blown back across the room from the force of the blow. She hit the angled floor and skidded across marble and glass, rolling end over end before sliding to a stop.

Finally, Ser’Goth climbed painfully to her feet and glared back at Elan.

“How do you keep doing that?” she roared. “It is not possible! A human cannot be using words of power! You cannot!”

Elan felt a trickle of warmth against her lip and brushed at it with the back of her right hand. She saw the smear of blood there. She flicked it off and forced herself straight.

“Apparently I can,” she sneered, wishing she had the slightest clue what the demoness was talking about.

Ser’Goth snarled, tensing. “That will not save you, child. This is your end!”

The demoness started to stalk forward just as the building shook violently, and suddenly everything tilted even worse, sending both Elan and Ser’Goth into the windows. The glass held, but they found themselves staring down at the abyss thousands of feet below them as the building finally began to give faster than the city.

Ser’Goth glared between Elan and the abyss. “You may have stopped the summoning here, child, but there were others. All you have done is prolong the miserable existence of humans on this planet. The inevitable end is still coming for all your kind.”

With that parting shot, the demoness slammed her foot into the glass and shattered the pane beneath her. As she dropped through, she extended her wings and swooped out from under the building, vanishing from sight.

Elan let out a breath, looking around desperately as she tried to find a way out.

“Sindri?” she called, spotting the small man, with Jol, barely hanging on to the doorframe above. “Are you okay?”

“We’re about to die in a toppling skyscraper that’s falling into the sea!” Sindri snapped. “No, I am not okay!”

Panes of glass began shattering as the building twisted, and Elan desperately looked around for purchase as more and more of them began to go. She hammered her staff into the floor just as the glass gave out under her and hung on to it as it penetrated the marble.

“I maybe could have thought this through a little better,” she admitted, feeling oddly calm about the whole thing.

Sindri laughed sharply. “Planning isn’t your strong suit, is it, lass?”

“Well, I haven’t had any problems before,” she said, hugging the staff tightly, her feet hanging out over the open air.

She wondered, idly, if this was what Kaern had felt just before the great wave struck him. This sense of calm that filled her, it felt like something she hadn’t felt in a long time.

Peace.

She glanced up. “Thank you for your help, Sindri . . . Jol.”

Jol just waved weakly, mumbling something she couldn’t quite make out, but Sindri seemed suddenly far more amused than he should.

“Might not be our time just yet, girl. Look!”

She turned to look down and found herself blinking as she saw what looked like a metal bird rising slowly toward her.

“Am I already dead?” she blurted, confused.

“Jump, lass!” Sindri said. “I’ll send Jol after you, so be ready to catch!”

“What?” Elan looked up.

“Jump! Before the building falls!”

Elan swallowed, trying to ignore the immense distance to the ground below and tensed as the metal bird slid under her. She wanted desperately to close her eyes but didn’t because that seemed like a truly bad idea, and then she braced enough to yank the staff out of the marble and dropped through the shattered window, only to thump onto the back of the great metal bird.

Stunned for a moment, Elan didn’t know what to do until Sindri screamed at her, and she looked up as he let Jol slide in her direction. Elan held her place as the larger man dropped through the window and hit the metal surface with a cracking sound that made her wince, but Elan lunged over and grabbed him to anchor him in place.

Sindri dropped easily beside her a moment later and grabbed on to Jol as well.

“Come on!” he yelled over the roar of wind as the metal bird slid out from under the building and began to climb out of the city. “This way!”

“What is this?” Elan screamed, terrified as she clung to Jol and stayed as low as she could to the metal bird’s back.

“It’s a skip fighter! Hold on a moment,” Sindri yelled as he worked his way forward, and a section opened up ahead of him.

Sindri pulled Jol forward and unceremoniously dumped him into the interior, gesturing for Elan to follow and finally dropping in himself.

“What took you so long?” Sindri demanded as the section closed and they found Brokkr looking at them over his shoulder.

“Herself didn’t take as good a care of her trophies as you might think,” Brokkr defended. “Had to make some alterations to get this beastie in the air.”

Elan looked around, wide-eyed. From the outside, she had been certain it was solid metal, but now, on the inside of the beast, she found that she could look out as though it were glass.

“What is this thing?” she asked again.

“I told you, it’s a skip fighter,” Sindri said. “One of the old war machines they used back in the day. Her Ladyship liked to keep trophies, as you may have noticed. The city itself was her greatest prize, but even so, it was one of many.”

“I was wrong,” Elan said as she looked out and watched the slow destruction of the city below. “Killing demons . . . it isn’t enough. I thought that would solve everything, but it isn’t the demons that are the worst of what I’ve seen. It’s what they took from us, what we lost.”

The buildings below them fractured, spires toppling into the roiling seas beneath.

“We have to rebuild,” Elan said, swallowing. “We can’t let everything we’ve been fall into the abyss.”

She felt the tinge of irony as she said that while watching the greatness of the past break apart and fall into an oceanic abyss.

She looked over at Jol, who was looking at her with intensity she didn’t really understand but knew she was feeling herself.

“We rebuild,” he said, his tone fervent. “We prove that the demons mean nothing.”

Elan nodded. “Atlantis first, and then the world.”

The central tower, the lair of the Lady of the Demon City, splintered almost halfway up the length of the great construction then, and the top broke off. The great spire toppled over as it fell, planting itself deep into the heart of the city as it tore through the streets, through the core of the city’s underworld, and right through the other side. Water roared through the cracks, exploding out and into the streets in the aftermath, sweeping away everything in its path.

They all continued looking out to where the demon city was sinking slowly beneath the waves, an angry red glow churning the water in the center of it as the sea claimed its own. She sadly thought of everything that would be lost when the city slipped beneath the waves, but the bloodred churning of the water at the center reminded her of what had nearly happened.

“That . . . will leave a mark,” Brokkr said as he steered the craft slowly around so they could watch. “There’s bad magic at play there.”

“Aye.” Sindri nodded. “She was a demon city, no doubt, but that . . . that will be a demon sea for some time yet.”

Epilogue

The transport cycled steadily, depositing thousands more people onto the island of Atlantis. The small city would have to grow, Merlin knew, and grow quickly to provide for them all. He had already commanded the construction of new buildings by his fabrication machines and would send even more infrastructure devices there.

The survivors . . . the victors of the attack on the local summoning circle had returned in good spirits, despite losses. Caleb, the hero of the hour, was alive but would take some time to heal, even with Merlin’s best efforts on his behalf. The survivors of the city were in less firm mental condition, unfortunately, but they were alive and free.

That would be enough for the moment. How it would hold up over time, Merlin did not know. He only knew one thing for certain . . . the war that, by rights, had ended centuries ago was somehow still raging. This night, they’d almost been snuffed out, yet somehow, through the efforts of a few, hope had not died.

They had cut it close with the stones near the island. Caleb’s determination had decided it in their favor . . . and even closer at Lemuria, where only a terrible sacrifice had stopped the summoning there.

Merlin had heard the demon’s last words to Elan, however, and wondered just how many other summonings there had been.

Had they done enough?

That was not a question he could answer yet.

The only thing Merlin was certain of was that they had done at least enough that the question was still an open one, and that was far better than the alternative.

He watched the final view of Lemuria once more through Elan’s eyes as the once great city sank beneath the waves.

So Lemuria has finally vanished physically as it had in truth a long time ago. The great city of so many has sunk down beneath the waves.

He turned his focus to those building anew, digging out new trenches to water crops as they greeted so many new faces to the small island.

So now . . . where Lemuria sinks into the depths, perhaps Atlantis rises.