BlackWing’s hands reached up as if trying to gather the inky, almost solid mist that was erupting slowly from him, but soon the half-demon’s hands fell limply to his sides. His body –even his clothing and his weapons—shriveled, crumbling into dust, leaving only the black mass behind. It took on a vaguely human shape once BlackWing’s body was gone, and somehow, even in the void of that solid darkness, two pits appeared, forming eyes so dark and terrible it was like staring into the depths of the Abyss itself.
In that moment, in the stillness of the cool spring night, every man and woman standing on Temple Street saw the face of a shadow demon. It was not a serilis-rir, nor even one of the demons of the underworld: mallasti, elestram, erestram, valiras, sylinth, or harmauth. This was some sort of demon spirit, a manifestation of hatred, maliciousness, and evil given form.
It let out a terrifying screech, a wretched sound so powerful and sharp that everyone pressed their hands to their ears. Yet somehow, the screech registered in Eli’s mind as words. “Your gods are pathetic,” it said disdainfully. “You may be able to destroy a mortal form, but you are powerless against me.”
“Paladin, destroy it!” called the human priest before Ambergaust’s temple. “Everyone, focus your prayers on the young woman!”
Vague as his order sounded to Eli, the eyes of every priest on Temple Street turned toward Katarina. The circle of light that surrounded her grew to encompass the entire street, then the entire district. The shadow demon remained, but it was in pain—that much it couldn’t hide. Katarina raised her sword and approached, but she seemed to think better of trying to fight the demon spirit. She stopped a few feet away from it and held her blade straight up before her face. She turned it sideways so she could stare around its burning radiance at the demon creature.
“You are not welcome here!” she said. “I banish you to the darkness; leave this place, and never return.”
“Leave this place, and never return. We banish you to the darkness,” the priests on their front steps repeated in kind.
The screech filled the air once more. “This is not over,” the demon spirit imparted to its enemies. “You have not won, merely delayed your inevitable demise.” And then the darkness dissipated, leaving Katarina’s light to claim supremacy.
Katarina ignored the demon spirit’s parting words. She rushed back to Eli and Deirdre. Piotyr joined her, but Eli felt fine; he just needed time to finish recovering from his injuries. The same seemed true of Deirdre. Soon, they found themselves surrounded by a circle of priests, and Katarina rose to face the priest of Ambergaust.
“Thank you, sir,” she offered with a bow of her head.
“Do not thank me, or any of my fellows here,” he said. He pulled down the cowl of his robe and in the light of Katarina’s aura, his face was warm, his expression impressed. “It is we who should thank you, young paladin. That was a display the Armored Shepherd himself would be proud of.”
The nimbus of light collapsed, and once the power faded, Eli could see the fatigue that took hold of Katarina. “We must get my companions off the street, quickly,” the young paladin told the priests. Several of them began to help Eli and Deirdre to their feet. Others checked on Piotyr to be sure the half-elite priest was all right, but he seemed no worse for the wear.
Katarina sighed. “I should go and help Kari; I don’t think she knows just what it is we’re up against.”
“She wanted you to stay and guard the others,” the priest of Ambergaust countered. “Come, let us get your companions into my temple, and you may rest there. You have exerted yourself, young lady, and may be a liability to your demonhunter companion at this point.”
Katarina didn't argue or refuse the help of the priests; Eli was impressed by that, too. She followed them all to the temple of Ambergaust and Carsius, watching for any sign of the demon spirit under the light of the streetlamps. Eli glanced around warily along with her. Barely an impression remained upon the street where BlackWing had lay before his body crumbled to dust, and no unnatural shadows revealed themselves.
Satisfied they were safe for the moment, Eli glanced at Katarina, and with her nod, the two stepped into the warm confines of the temple.
Kari paused and looked back in the direction of Temple Street as the entire district lit up. After a brief hesitation, she gestured for Sherman and Sharyn to stay close and continued her brisk pace into the southwest district.
Could that have been Katarina? she wondered.
She didn’t have time to think about it. She had to trust that her friends and the priests of Kaelariel would be able to handle BlackWing, and she had to find and deal with the succubus as soon as possible. Her mind whirled with thoughts of just what “ritual” the succubus and BlackWing could be performing, and how it had escaped her notice before now.
“Where are we going?” Sharyn asked as they ran. Kari was impressed with the woman’s endurance, for though she was wearing lighter armor than Sherman, Sharyn showed little sign of fatigue. Her breath was steady and even, her long strides were consistent, and she looked as though she could complete a circuit around the city and then some. It had to stem from ranging the forests for however many years.
“Graveyard,” Kari called back over her shoulder. “Not sure that’s what he meant by ritual, but she’s in the southwest and that’s the only lead I’ve got.”
No arguments were raised, so she continued her hurried pace. Sherman, dressed in his cumbersome chain armor, lagged behind and had to stop to catch his breath. Sharyn started to return to his side, but Kari barked for her to leave him and stay with her. Kari couldn’t afford to end up alone in the graveyard with Turillia and whatever other horrors awaited.
After only a moment, Sharyn sprinted to catch up to Kari again, and the demonhunter was even more amazed by the woman’s endurance. Just what did Sharyn do for the ranger network that made her such a gifted long-distance runner? Was it part of keeping tabs on—or maybe running away from—the werewolves?
Kari chuckled; Sharyn was probably wondering the same things about her.
Her suspicions were proven correct when they reached the gates to the graveyard. Both of its guards lay face down in dark pools. The succubus was like a wraith, striking from the shadows and killing her victims without ever being seen or heard. Kari checked on the guards to make sure they were dead and not in need of healing; both were long gone. She checked for the key to the massive graveyard gates. It was easy to find, and Kari took it and contemplated whistling loudly enough to attract the attention of a watch patrol. She wanted help, but at the same time, she wanted to keep the element of surprise when they confronted the succubus.
I wish Kaelariel’s priests were here…
“It’s going to be dark in there, will you be able to see?” Kari asked Sharyn when she realized her only help was a night-blind human.
“Ranger,” Sharyn answered, as if that explained anything.
She decided it had to mean Sharyn was confident in her sight under pale moonlight, and Kari moved to unlock the gate. A massive, spine-chilling howl split the air. “Uh-oh,” she blurted and met Sharyn’s gaze.
“They’ll be after the succubus first,” the ranger said. “We won’t want to stay for tea and biscuits after, but if you don’t provoke them, they may help us. Be careful.”