Laurell Hamilton - Nightseer

“What were his orders, Alharzor?”

“To kill you and anyone with you.”

“You may find that task far from easy.”

“I know, so I debate.” He sat down, and two hounds crowded close to lie near him.

“Does Harque rate a minion of Verm?”

“No, but your brother does. He wanted to make sure you died, one way or another. He leaves little to chance. Fear him, prince, for he means to have you dead.”

“Since you plan to kill me soon, I will not worry over Velen’s ambitions.”

The demon laughed. “True, true, the way I ramble on you would think that there was a chance of escape. If you defeat me, there are many others waiting for their turns.”

The red demon narrowed yellow eyes and motioned to one of the hounds. The hound struggled and whined but at last flung himself on the shield. He was thrown back, stunned and burnt, but not by fire. “Ahhh,” said the demon.

He stood and paused just short of the shield’s glow. He closed his eyes. The concentration on his face was intent, his breathing slow and regular, as he bent hands to the shield. He was bathed in sparks of orange, blue, and white. He did not release the shield but poured more power into it.

Eroar sat calmly, unmoving, face placid, but his human shoulders shivered, and his skin began to sweat.

With a roar like close thunder, the shield tore. Eroar and the demon shrieked. Alharzor paused, shaking, then grinned.

Keleios finished the last symbol, and the witch shield pulsed in place.

The demon paused and shook his head, “Verm’s wounds, this is going to be a long night.”

The witch shielding had gone into place with a surge of magic. Keleios moved to take the sword from the earth, but it met her hand, leaping to her. Its life force tingled up her arm and sent power vibrating through her. The sword had had years of disuse and was wallowing in the glory of being active. She turned her face upward, and Alharzor looked full upon her for the first time.

“Ahhh, Nightseer, sister, this will not be an easy task.” He peered closely, squinting. “What manner of weapon do you have there?”

“Ache silvestri, Aching Silver, painful death, the demons named it long ago.”

“It cannot be.”

“The great weapons protect themselves, Alharzor. It lay in this clearing for years untouched.”

“It is a worthless piece of metal, nothing more.”

“Look upon it. Look upon it and see it for what it is.”

He pressed close to the shield. “I’ll be fried, it is one of those cursed elven weapons.”

The sword pulsed. The feeling was mutual.

“You are coming to us, Nightseer. You use a demon-aided sword; you endanger your soul by its use.”

“Your concern for my mortal being is most touching, but you fear this weapon. You fear it in my hands.”

“Perhaps, but Harque will be very pleased to find you in our net. She hates you, with a pure burning, like the sun through glass. It has burned away what was left of her senses, because your survival put her ambitions in a dilemma, to risk death for great power, or not. She is still debating whether to follow you into the pit. She hates you for offering her such power and blames you for her own cowardice in not taking it.”

“She was always one to blame others for her own shortcomings.”

The black jewel on his necklace glimmered. He grimaced as if in pain. “Ahhh, woe is me, she wants you all prisoners. It is hard enough to kill such magic, but prisoners. Ahhh, she is mad.”

“Will you disobey Velen to obey Harque?” Lothor asked.

“You see my problem, prince. I have been given a direct order by a high priest of Verm, my master, but the witch controls me through this.” He pawed at the necklace.

“A necklace of obedience.”

“Yes, Nightseer, and I cannot disobey her wishes.”

“They are illegal in Astrantha now, for nothing can break their power once ensorcelled. Wicked evil things.”

He looked ready to cry. “Can nothing break its spell?”

“There is a way. It is dangerous and may not work, but there is a way.”

Hope flashed through his eyes, then died, replaced by a glittering anger. “You seek to trick me; there is no way out.”

“I swear by Urle’s holy flame that I speak truly. I know of one way to free you from ensorcellment.”

Lothor spoke, “She follows Mother Blessen and would not lie in an oath.”

“She may follow Blessen, but she holds a demon-powered sword.”

Lothor shrugged.

Keleios nodded. “But you know how I come by the taint. You know that it was not choice that led me to hold this sword.” She stepped close to the shielding’s edge, “I was her slave then as much as you are now.”

“I remember,” An evil grin curled his red scaled face. “I arranged some of your entertainment on your last stay.”

“But you had no choice, just as you have no choice now. You are reduced to being an errand boy, Alharzor.”

Anger flared in his eyes, “I am reduced in nothing.” As he spoke, he seemed to grow taller, stretching up into the sky. “I am Alharzor the red demon.”

Lothor spoke, “Alharzor, no one here doubts your power, for you are a great red demon. Let us speak and come to an understanding. Let us bargain.”

He shrank immediately, and it was as if the other had been illusion, which perhaps it was, “A bargain, now that is something to talk of.” His eyes narrowed, and he rubbed his hands together briskly. “What have you in mind, prince?”

“We will free you from your enscorcellment, and you will free us. Is it not a fair bargain?” “Yes, and because it is fair, you know I cannot take it.”

Keleios began to protest, but Lothor waved her to silence. “Yes, I realize you will need to come off a little better than us, it is the demon way.”

“So nice to deal with humans who understand from the start, saves so much time. Now do you want to go traditional? Your firstborn, a pound of flesh, a pint of blood, or a quest.” He snapped his fingers and chuckled a most unpleasant sound. “I have it—you will kill Harque; that will be your quest.”

“I thought ensorcellment meant that you could not even think to harm your master.”

“No, Nightseer, I must obey, and I personally cannot harm or bring about harm, but I set you a near-impossible task. I truly believe you will fail, and thus no harm will come to Harque.”

Lothor spoke dryly. “Bending the rules just a bit, aren’t you, demon?”

He shrugged massive shoulders. “I will leave you alone to discuss your options; my pets will of course remain on guard.”

He vanished.

Tobin spoke first. “Terribly cheerful for a demon, isn’t he?”

“Yes,” Keleios answered, “He would pull out your tongue while telling the most amusing joke about a flock of geese, a lesser demon, and a goose girl.”

“You must tell me that one sometime when we have time to spare,” Lothor said.

She frowned at him.

He smiled back. “Behind his back the other demons call him Smiling Aaah. But never to his face.”

“Can we kill Harque, Keleios? You know her better than the rest of us,” Tobin asked.

“We might, but it would be very hard, and Alharzor would be forced to fight against us.” “Is he the most powerful demon in her service?”

“He was six years ago, but things could have changed.” She shook her head. “I don’t trust him. To get us close enough to kill the witch, he will want to pretend to take us prisoner. He will be forced to take our weapons temporarily. Weapons gone, pretending to be prisoners and being prisoners is too close for comfort.”

“Are you sure you can free the demon of his ensorcellment?”

“I don’t know for sure until I explore the necklace’s spell, but I believe so.”