He blinked, and the skeletal corpse with its guts hanging out was in his face. Bony fingers grasped at his arms, leaving stinging scratches along his biceps. The wiggling, cartilaginous tongue whipped at his face, the claw at the tip trying to grab his face. He recoiled, and was brought up short. The creature was far stronger than he’d thought it would be. Foul odors from the zombie-like creature made his stomach roil.
Corath hauled back and the undead yanked him closer. He went with its pull, turning his shoulder to its chest and ducking his head as he rammed it. The combined momentum knocked the creature stumbling back.
He looked up in time to dodge back from the wild swing of the mummy’s two fists. It hopped forward, both feet leaving the ground as it swung at him again. He did a back handspring out of its range.
The mummy leaped forward again as he landed and his feet and straightened.
He thrust his foot at its chest as it landed.
Before his kick landed, the mummy clamped both hands around his calf and swung him to the right.
Corath flew through the air and bounced against the floor, briefly knocking the wind from him.
The corpse creature didn’t give him a moment to regain his breath, flying through the air in a mighty pounce.
Lungs burning, Corath jumped to his feet, drawing his sword and swinging it upward to impale the undead thing as it landed.
His left leg buckled from where the mummy had gripped it, throwing off his attack.
Instead of it being impaled on the mystical blade, the creature instead had its right arm cleaved off at the shoulder.
It staggered back, hissing.
He reached down to rub the burning leg, and pulled up tatters of leather armor.
‘Sard. Mummy rot. Fortune favored me this time. She only took my left greave rather than the leg itself.’
A brief image of his leg rotting away under the mummy’s corrupting touch flashed through his mind, making him shudder.
He gasped as the corpse monster lashed out with its tongue again, instinctively throwing up his right arm to block the attack.
His chest burned, as a lightning bolt of agony lanced through him.
His right arm dropped to his side and would not obey his mental command to rise to block another attack from the corpse creature.
The numb arm jerked him to the side, saving him from the assault.
He stumbled over loose stones as he retreated.
His sword squealed against the stone floor as he drug it behind him.
A flash of movement from the corner of his eye made him throw himself backward as the mummy crashed into the corpse monster.
As he hit the ground and tucked into a roll, agony lanced through his side like a blade twisting between his ribs. Something inside him shifted with the motion, making him twitch from the shockwaves of pain.
He flopped gracelessly to his back, fiery pain washing over his chest as his lungs burned for air.
‘Sard it. I’m done for.’ He wheezed, as a lump formed in his throat and heat rose behind his eyes. He blinked away the blurry wetness, trying to focus on the undead stalking him. ‘I’m sorry, Wen. I cannot avenge you after all.’
###
The DarkWalker screamed. It sounded as if all the souls in the Abyss bellowed with him. He punched a hole in the air and ripped out a sword. The blade was an ethereal blue crystal, gleaming with an otherworldly light. Flawless and translucent, it caught the firelight and scattered it in brilliant cerulean and turquoise sparkles.
He vanished from Adora’s sight and then reappeared behind Pazuzu.
Three flashes – one above the Primordial’s head, one in front of his torso and one at his hips – came in an instant.
The ancient demon fell in three pieces, oily blood hissing as it ate into the walls and floor where it hit.
The DarkWalker stalked towards her.
Adora’s eyes blurred. The last thing she saw was the being surrounded by a golden cylinder of light.
***
Adora woke, the brilliant sunlight making her blink. Silvery clouds drifted across the bright blue sky. Small black spots glided overhead before the shifting of light revealed them to be a pair of hawks flying way up high.
She sat up, right knee bent, and glanced around. Long grass, seeded with wildflowers danced in a gentle breeze which carried their delicate scent to her. As it wafted over her skin, it ruffled her dress and hair.
A small, fluffy creature with long ears, a twitchy nose, and a soft, round body hopped onto her knee. Delicate, and translucent wings, shining in the sunlight like stained glass, folded along its back. Shining black eyes watched her intently.
‘A bunnyfly?’ Adora’s eyebrow raised. ‘I thought they were extinct.’
She reached out to pet the animal but it sprang away, its veiny wings helping it to glide further than its long hind feet could propel it.
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She raised her hands and rubbed her eyes. As she did, flashes of the DarkWalker went across her mind’s eye. The skull-like face, half melted and with glowing blue eyes. The ram’s horns at his temples. The ease with which he defeated the Primordial.
Adora shook her head as she lowered her hands. ‘Stop thinking of that.’ She turned to her right. ‘How did I get here?’ Her tongue poked into her cheek as she studied the meadow.
Scarlet star-shaped flowers with emerald stems caught her eye. ‘Slemper flowers?’ She crossed the two yards to them and squatted down to inhale their minty scent. “I love these.”
A thump to the ground behind her caused her to jump to her feet.
“I know.” The deep, commanding voice was familiar.
As she completed her turn, she smiled at the sight of her guardian. The large, muscular angel with silver skin and snow-white wings smiled back. Like the rest of him, his teeth were perfect. His topaz eyes regarded her warmly.
“Azrael.” She stretched. “It’s good to see you, my friend.” She adjusted her dress, smoothing wrinkles. “What are you doing here? What am I doing here?”
“I brought you here for your safety.” He spread his arms wide. “It is part of my personal plane.”
“My safety?” She snorted. “You’re a bit late with that.” She gestured to the blood and grime on her dress. “As you see, I’ve been through it.”
He gazed at her with a slight smile on his perfect divine face. A light breeze tossed a curl of his sable hair over his forehead.
Adora paused with her thumbs pointed at herself and then glanced down. Her gown was pristine and she had no marks from the attack on her castle. Her face grew red as her breathing quickened. Brow lowered, she glared at the angel.
“Are you trying to make me doubt my fucking memories, Azrael?”
He raised his hands, palms out. “Peace, Adora. I wished nothing of the kind.” He sighed. “I meant only to show you that here, you are healed and safe.”
She clenched her hands. “You chose a fucked up way to do so.”
He nodded. “You are correct. I am sorry.”
Hearing the sincerity in his voice, Adora relaxed her hands and took a deep breath. As she let it out slowly, she rubbed the back of her neck. “I… I kind of overreacted, huh?”
Azrael tilted his head in acknowledgement. “It is understandable. You went through a lot.”
She nodded. “True, but I should have trusted you more. You’ve always been my most stalwart defender.” She looked around at the perfect plane. A butterfly hovered over a cluster of white daisies, its wings shimmering like coins in the sun. At the same time, fingers of warm air raked through the plush meadow grasses, stirring up the scents of wild strawberry and goldenrod. “This place reminds me of Kellün’s realm when I was summoned there to be fully anointed as a WarPriest.”
Adora froze as her breath caught in her chest. A flash of the God of Woods and Nature’s face in agony passed across her mind’s eye. Her stomach felt rock hard as she spun back to Azrael. “Kellün is in danger. We must save him.”
“You must find him, before you can save him.” He stepped to the side. “There is a more pressing concern, however.”
Behind him, on the ground, lay the unconscious form of the DarkWalker. His body lay unnaturally still, the glow from his eyes dim. Around him, the air felt heavy and fixed. It felt saturated with a quiet, oppressive power that hinted he was far from truly defeated. The plane seemed to hold its breath, ready for him to rise once more.
She blinked several times as she involuntarily stepped back, right hand to her mouth. “Ha-how…” She cleared her throat. “How did you stu-stop him?”
“Abiomancy.” His voice was steady and comforting.
She turned to the angel, but kept her eyes on the DarkWalker. “What in the Abyss is that?”
“A form of proto magic. It hasn’t been used since the Creation.”
“Why didn’t you use Divine, or Celestial, magic?”
“I tried. Apparently the DarkWalker is immune to them.
She crossed over to him, moving with care and then crouched down to consider the skull-like visage. “How is that possible?”
Azrael shrugged, and folded his arms. “It would seem that this shadow of the Walker of Worlds is exceptionally powerful.”
She glanced over her shoulder. “He’s still Carter. There’s no need to be so formal.”
“For all intents and purposes, that is not Carter Blake. It does not even share his vessel.”
“And yet, it still holds dear all the same that he does.”
“It tried to kill Amando before I distracted it.”
She cast her gaze over the angel really focusing on him. His flesh was paler than normal, he stood stiffly and sweat rolled down his hawk nose to his bow-shaped lips. She stood and crossed to him. “How bad are you wounded?”
“Not terribly.”
“It’s not seemly for angels to lie.” She pushed his arms to the side and opened his cloak. The roiling wound on his side made her gasp in shock. The stanch left her gagging. After she caught her breath, she sat on the ground near the DarkWalker and picked up its hand. “Why haven’t you healed?”
“It is a wound of Chaos magic.”
“Despite the gravity of your tone, my question remains unanswered.”
“Due to your limited understanding, Adora, it only seems thus.” He closed the cloak once more. “Chaos is at the heart of the power of the Walker of Worlds.” Azrael leaned against the map table. After wiping his face with his forearm, he continued. “It disrupts all. Even Divine magics.” A wave to the DarkWalker. “For some reason, that is even closer to Chaos than Carter.”
She leaned forward. “So – what? – you suffer with the wound until you die?”
He nodded. “If I don’t return to Avernus.”
“Then go!”
“I cannot. I must protect you from that.” He gestured to the DarkWalker again.
“He won’t hurt me.”
“Amando said the same thing. And then it ripped a hole in his chest.”
She swallowed and returned her gaze to the DarkWalker. This being had utterly dominated a demon that gave an ancient dragon a beating. And yet…
“He had ample opportunity to attack me, but he didn’t show any desire to.” She shook her head. “Instead, he protected me.” Adora raised her eyes to her guardian. “He even killed a Primordial demon after it killed Lady Soo-jau.”
“Adora, I believe trusting this dark shadow to be foolish, yet I will honor your choice to do so.” He sighed. “Against my better judgement.” He muttered the last.
“I heard that.” She placed the DarkWalker’s hand on his stomach. “In the meantime, you—”
Adora stopped, stunned. The beautiful meadow was gone. In its place, a dimly lit cavern. A domed ceiling glittering with veins of quartz that caught the dim glow of molten pools along the floor. Stalagmites jutted upward like jagged teeth, framing a colossal hoard of gold and jewels that shimmered in the flickering light. The air was thick with the scent of earth and sulfur. Water rushed nearby, tumbling over stones and falling an unknown distance into a pool far below.
She spun in place and screamed.
The colossal DarkWalker stood watching her take in her surroundings from a few steps away.
“No hurt Adora.” His voice was like rocks being crushed, his speech simple.
Her hand on her chest, she tried to catch her breath. “I wasn’t expecting to find you standing behind me like that.”
He shrugged. “Where Dearbhaile.”
Her skin tingled as she raised her index finger in the air. She bent over, hands on her knees as she took a deep, slow breath, and then let it out. Adora straightened when she felt hot air ruffling her hair.
She stepped back at finding the DarkWalker’s skeletal face inches from her own. “Why are you sniffing me?”
“Smell good.”
“Thank you, but no sniffing. It’s rude.”
Another shrug. “Where Dearbhaile.” His voice somehow grew deeper in tone.
“I don’t know. She’s been missing for almost seven years.”
“Why?”
“A half-demon captured and hid her away.” She glanced around the cavern. “Where are we?”
“Dragon lair.” He stepped over and ran his clawed fingers over a pair of ovoid shapes partially hidden behind a stone shelf. “Eggs.” He turned and pointed at her. “Protect.”
“Wouldn’t it be best to leave them for their parents to care for?”
“Vaush-Tauric eggs.”
She felt her jaw drop. “These are the offspring of Lady Soo-jau?”
“Find Dearbhaile.”
Adora groaned. “I… don’t want to.” She covered her face as it grew hot.
“Why?”
She gave a long, slow sigh. “Because I want Carter to be mine.” Wiping her hands down her face she looked into the electric blue eyes of the DarkWalker. “But, if we don’t find her, Carter will be unhappy, and I don’t want that.”
The DarkWalker tilted his head to the left. “Why?”
“I love him.”