Death After Death

Chapter 408 - The Face of Evil

The dimly lit basement was hideous for any number of reasons, but as Simon noticed each new horror, it seemed to strike him harder than the last. The manor above him was large, and so was the basement that it crouched upon. First, there were the mixed smells of flesh, death, and sulfur. Then, he saw the cages. Most of them were empty, but a few had small shapes in them. As he reached the bottom of the stairs, he saw the worst sight of all, though.

It wasn’t the open portal to hell glowing menacingly within a flimsy circle made of bloody lines and chalk-scribed runes on the floor, the old man who stood next to it, or the red-skinned demon that stood within it, either. It was his apprentice, and two other children bound just to one side.

It was obvious to Simon immediately that they were bargaining chips, for the same sort of deal that the demon he’d once summoned had offered him. Simon would never say yes to a horrendous trade, though, just like he’d never summon a demon into the real world with anything less than an engraved metal ring to protect him from their treacherous nature.

What he didn’t get, though, was any kind of hint as to what the two vile men were discussing, because as soon as he peeked around the corner, the devil smiled at him and said, “Ah, I believe that is your guest now, Sir. It doesn’t seem like fire or force stopped him. I wonder what word you might try next.”

Simon raised his crossbow, but as he did, Lord Marhew turned around, with wand in hand. That spooked Simon enough that his bolt went wide as he pulled back behind the stone arch as quickly as he could. It was good that he did, because what followed was “Vrazig,” and arcing black lightning assaulted the place where he’d just been.

The word had meant ruin the way he spoke it, but there was clearly more to the spell because ruin alone wouldn’t look like this. Was that the wand? Was it a gesture he made or something else entirely? Simon had no idea. He could only watch in alarm as the lightning hit the near wall he stood behind and the far one opposite the door. Both were limestone, but neither stood up to the magic.

They didn’t shatter from uneven heating like a real lightning bolt would cause. Instead, they started to corrode like they’d been splashed with acid. It took him a moment to realize his crossbow had been splattered by the magic because the stirrup and the steel limb of the bow were both starting to come undone. He tossed it down and backed away before it affected his armor next.

Simon drew his sword then, trying to decide how much his steel armor would shelter him from such an attack. Should I use nullification? He asked himself. That was his first instinct, but he realized instantly it would be a mistake. If he used that from here, it would certainly affect at least part of the ring, and if the ring failed only partially, it might unravel explosively.

Whether that meant part of the basement, or all of the basement and part of the waterfront, would momentarily be consumed by hell, he couldn’t say. What he could say was that it would almost certainly consume the three children that were bound up next to the circle like a sack of potatoes, and he wasn’t prepared to do that. A word of nullification might create a shield and an island of stability around him, but he wasn’t close enough to guarantee they’d be included.

While he hesitated, the warlock laughed. “Pitiful templar, you think you can stop me, or my bound demons? You were lucky to find me, but you will not be lucky enough to escape me. I will feed your soul to him as well as these children.”

“Actually, I recognize this one, Lord Marhew,” the demon said behind him. Simon hadn’t recognized him in the moment, but he did now. The noble was summoning Anthroditen, a demon Simon had crossed paths with more than once. “And his soul, I would reward you handsomely for. There is much I wish to ask of this Enis. He is one of hers.”

“Hers?” the noble asked. “The dark goddess you told me about? He’s one of her timeless ones?”

Simon considered charging in that moment, while the man was distracted, but he held back. He knew how fast magic was. It was like holding a gun, and all he had was a sword. He’d have to cover twenty feet in the time the man could say a single word, but worse, he no longer had a backup plan. His time amidst the Unspoken hadn’t given him the opportunity to craft something subtle enough to end his own life should the need arise, and now that was biting him in the ass.

“Indeed,” the demon answered. “Bring me his timeless soul, and I shall grant you the miracle of your choosing. Wealth, Youth, Power… anything can be yours for such a trade.”

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Simon tried to decide if such an offer hurt him or helped him. It probably helped him, since now the warlock wouldn’t try to kill him outright, but as he considered that, he heard the man mutter the word of force, and a giant hand grabbed the area just in front of him, closing in on empty air just in front of where Simon was standing.

Even with his sight, he only saw the shimmering outline of the simplistic cartoon fist for a moment, and the marks the finger tips left on the stone as they gripped something that wasn’t there and drew it back to their caster. That complicated things. He hadn’t worried about being taken alive for a long time, and this guy had just been promised the moon.

Is Varten even worth risking hell for? Flashed through his mind for a moment. He’d long since run out of hate for the man that his squire would never become, so the impulse was immediately answered. He didn't owe the boy, but he’d still risk it. He wasn’t about to let evil damn three children because it might cost him something.

What he needed was a distraction, so instead of attacking or retreating, he took a few more steps back and called out, “Is that you, Anthroditen?” with forced mirth. “I haven’t thought of you in an age. Still up to your old tricks of swindling would-be mages, I see.”

His tone and feigned familiarity with a demon was about as un-Unspoken as he could have imagined, and he was sure it took at least the warlock by surprise. Varten looked too out of it to hear him or remember it, but even if he’d been awake, Simon would have still done the same thing. He was fast running out of other options.

That same force hand flashed out again, grasping for Simon. This time, it reached far enough back that he had to flatten against the far wall to avoid it. Magic didn’t necessarily need line of sight, but it required intent and imagination, and this guy clearly wasn’t too creative.

“What will you give me for his soul? Or have you taken it already,” Simon shouted as he crept back toward the doorway as close as he could and waited for the next hint of a spell.

“Insolent whelp!” the warlock grumbled. “This demon is bound by my magic, and he will not do your bidding.”

The demon said nothing, which was unfortunate, because Simon really wanted to distract this guy. He just needed a few seconds. In the grand scheme of things, that wasn't so much to ask for.

“No?” Simon continued, ducking as the grasping limb of force reached out again. This time it went over his head toward where he’d been last time. “Come on, he’s the opener of ways. He can break out of that circle any time he wants. He’s just toying with you. Go on, ask him.”

Simon could practically hear the hesitation in the air as he slowly rose to a crouching position, sword and shield in hand. Still, he waited for the man to say a word, and when that word wasn’t a spell, he charged.

“Is that true—” was all he had time for. Simon was hardly stealthy in his armor, but he was in good shape and sprinted toward the frail man. The warlock had time to bark the word of fire once more, but that was it. Then, Simon bodyslammed him into the pit that was bounded by the magic circle.

Even as Simon was consumed by fire, the warlock was too. The only difference was that the spell that flashed over Simon burned only for an instant, but the flames that burned Lord Marhew would burn him forever.

Somehow, Simon had managed to stop just at the edge of the ring, and when he opened his eyes, he was surprised to see nothing terrible had happened. He’d hit the man high enough above his center of gravity that his feet hadn’t skid across the marks and ruined the summoning circle, and he hadn’t run far enough to step inside it himself.

As the noble’s distant screams faded, Simon watched his shield fluttering slowly down into the lurid landscape behind him. Blocking his view of anything more than that was the demon Anthroditen. He stood so close to the edge he was practically nose to nose with Simon, letting him see every oiled ringlet on the man’s well-coiffed head.

“So close, yet so far,” the devil said with a shrug. “One more step and you would have been mine.”

Simon ignored that, countering, “By the time we meet again, I’ll have figured out how to kill you instead of simply sending you back where you belong.”

“Kill?” he laughed. “Last time you summoned me to ask me for favors. We haven’t even discussed the price of my summoner’s soul. Surely you don’t just wish to gift that to me.”

Simon wasted no more time talking to the foul creature. While he couldn’t say for sure that no future life would involve exploring demonology, it seemed very unlikely from where he was standing. He took a step back for his own safety, then wandered around the edge of the circle until he found the right rune before striking it out and making the fiery scene vanish.

Simon had only just started cutting the boys free by the time the city watch started to flood the building. It was only when they drew weapons on Simon, though, that he realized how he must have looked. That was when the pain started.

“Where is the warlock, sir, uhhh, your holiness?” their captain asked when he saw the ragged scraps of Simon’s cloak.

“Hell,” Simon answered bluntly as he cradled Varten’s limp form in his arms. “Arrest everyone in this building until I can adjudicate them, free everyone in these cages who’s still breathing, but don’t let them go, and send me a healer. As soon as my wounds are bandaged, we will have a full accounting of what happened here.”