Alex Lee Martinez - In the Company of Ogres

The bulk of the company had remained behind at the citadel to prepare for the worst, whatever that might be. Frank had been one of them. Regina found herself wishing him by her side. She couldn’t think of any other soldier in Ogre Company she would’ve preferred. But he was hurt. Even hurt, he was probably the toughest grunt in the company. Possibly as fearless and deadly as she.

She caught herself smiling and wiped the grin from her face.

Rocs filled the sky. The pilots had managed to get the monstrously ill-tempered birds into a tight V formation. From the ground, thought Regina, they must have been an impressive sight. One hundred airborne ogres, give or take, hurtling headlong toward certain doom, possibly about to begin a battle for the fate of the universe.

“There it is!” shouted Ace.

The Iron Fortress came into view. It was smaller than Regina expected, and its obsidian bricks were difficult to pick out on the dark horizon. But the glittering jade and the soft glow of its tallest tower made it obvious enough once her eyes adjusted.

Regina grinned. And this time she couldn’t stop smiling. She so loved a suicide mission.

The moment the Iron Fortress appeared, she anticipated a great host of winged demons would pour from its every opening. She expected, with some grim Amazonian dream of glory, to be swept away in a tide of knives, gnashing teeth, and cruel claws. It would be a beautiful death, the kind an Amazon could be proud of.

But nothing of the sort happened. Not one demon, not even the littlest imp, came forth. The Iron Fortress just stood there. One of its tremendous legs absently pawed the earth, but in no way did it exhibit the slightest acknowledgment of Ogre Company’s approach.

“Shouldn’t they be doing something?” asked Miriam.

Regina agreed. Some response was expected. Even courteous. There couldn’t be a legendary last battle for the fate of the universe if the Forces of Darkness refused to show up. It was extremely poor form. After all, the demons had to notice the mighty fighting force just moments from their doorstep. Did the residents of the giant, walking castle not consider them a threat at all? Were the hideous creatures within so powerful that the company wasn’t even worth a minimal response? She found that hard to believe. More likely, she decided, the fortress had other defenses, dark underworld sorceries gathering now to swat each and every roc from the sky before the battle could begin. Green and orange lightning flashed all around the tallest tower, a sure indication that some demonic magic was at play. Yet she carried on fearlessly.

“Maybe they haven’t noticed us!” yelled Ace above the whipping winds.

“Don’t be ridiculous!” Regina shouted back, her pride stinging a bit.

It’d been a long time since anyone had dared lay siege to the Iron Fortress. Its long legs made scaling its walls an impossible feat. Those same legs also allowed it to crush any army stupid enough to dare the impossible, and should a force prove immune to even this deterrent, the fortress could always amble away at its leisure from more bothersome attackers.

Inside the castle itself, within its malign walls, a great swarm of terrible demons waited to unleash themselves upon anything foolish enough to challenge them. They would’ve gladly joined in battle against Ogre Company had anyone been on watch. But the Iron Fortress had no watch because it’d been a long, long time since it’d had need of one. And demons, being generally lazy and irresponsible, had ceased keeping up the duty.

Technically, there was a watch at work, but they were either drunk on elf blood, fornicating, or engaged in a rousing game of competitive skull juggling. Consequently, the only residents of the Iron Fortress to catch a glimpse of the trouble heading their way were a couple of gargoyles chained to a parapet. Since neither cared much for either chains or demons (and weren’t particularly fond of parapets either), neither spoke up, but instead shared a good chuckle and wink. Regina knew none of that and assumed she was rushing into an ambush. It didn’t deter her. If anything, it made her more determined. It’d been too long since she’d enjoyed the bloodlust. She’d forgotten how sweet it tasted.

“Where do you think they’d be keeping Ned?” asked Ace.

“There.” Miriam pointed to the tallest tower, sheathed in crackling supernatural energies, casting an eerie red glow in the twilight that made the dusk as bright as a new dawn. “That would be my guess.”

Regina shook her head. “Too obvious. Besides, this is Ned we’re talking about. He’s probably still locked away in some pit.”

“I told you we should’ve brought Owens along.”

“He’s always been bloody useless,” said Regina. “And what could he do anyway? Hear Ned’s location?”

Ace whipped the reins, and the rocs broke into a power dive toward the fortress. The formation followed suit.

The hooded demons chanted. The Void stirred again inside Ned. It bubbled in his throat, tasting like rotten maple syrup, thick and clumpy.

Rucka flicked over and grabbed Ned by the shirt. The small demon casually tossed him into the center of the throne room. The sorcerers continued their chant as they formed a circle around Ned. Their pendulums shimmered, casting delicate strands of light that reflected off each other and bent in the air like silver threads. Still droning, the sorcerers pulled away their hoods to reveal faces they didn’t have. No mouths. No ears. No noses. Only three eyes arranged in a triangle upon their foreheads.

Rucka leered. “It won’t take long, Ned. The bindings that hold the Void in this shell are too powerful to be destroyed by anyone but the Void himself, but we only need loosen them a bit. The rest will come from within. And when he rises, when he can no longer sleep, at that one moment when he is at his full power yet too groggy to realize what is happening, I shall pluck out your eye.”

The emperor salivated. Drool dripped from his lips to puddle beneath his hovering body.

Strangely, Ned didn’t sense anything else wrong with him as the magic did its work. His pain faded, and the Void continued to rumble within him. But despite the awesome magics being unleashed (to be honest, this was just a guess since Ned knew nothing of minor magic much less the awesome type), Ned didn’t feel anything else. There was only one explanation. He was fading away, and because he wasn’t real, he couldn’t even sense it.

He didn’t want to die. And not just because his death meant the end of the universe. There was more at stake. Less, actually. But for the first time in as long as he could remember, Ned wanted to live. He didn’t know why. His life had been a remarkably dull affair up to now, excluding the last few days of dragon wizards and demon emperors. But maybe that was his fault. Or maybe he was just destined to live a boring, eternal existence. And maybe one day he’d be sick of it. But not today.

Damn it all, he was Never Dead Ned, and if there was one thing Never Dead Ned was good at (and as far as he could tell there was only one thing), it was not dying. Actually, he was pretty good at that, but staying dead was another matter. And after all this time yearning for the icy whisper of true and lasting oblivion, Ned decided he wasn’t so keen on ending his days after all. He had to do something. At the very least, he had to try.

The sorcerers’ voices blended together into a low rumble that vibrated the throne room and, indeed, the entire fortress. The Mad Void grumbled, though only Ned sensed it, and even he wasn’t so sure about that anymore. There seemed every possibility that what he thought was awakening unspeakable evil was nothing more than a hearty case of indigestion.