Laurell Hamilton - Nightseer

No other Meltaanian noble had such a scar. It was a whitened burn scar that dimpled and pitted the right side of his race. One eye had almost been lost, and scar tissue formed a ridge twisting the eyelid wrong. Keleios had given him that scar. It could have been healed but the Duke of Cartlon ruled that Gabel would wear the scar as his punishment. Since only the physically perfect could rule in Meltaan, Gabel lost a kingdom. Keleios was stripped of her master rank because she had a new magic to tame. Sorcery at the age of twenty. It was unheard of.

“Gabel.” It was a hiss.

He did not flinch at the hate in the word, for the feeling was quite mutual, but crowded close to the bars. “Keleios Incantare, take me with you when you go.”

A great masculine laugh escaped her lips. “But Keleios is not going anywhere she wants to go.”

He drew back, perplexed. “Alharzor?” But Gabel, whatever else he was, was an enchanter and a sorcerer, and good at each. He needed no spells to tell enchantment when he saw it. He spoke to her in a whisper. “Alharzor does not possess you; the sword possesses him. Take me with you when you go, or I will tell them of your deceit.”

Knowing Gabel as she did, Keleios did not waste time being shocked or saying, “You wouldn’t,” because he would.

She glanced at Eroar and Tobin, who stood patiently waiting. She stood at the door and picked the demon’s mind for the spell to the door. It was surprisingly simple. The lock crumbled in her hand like a flower.

Keleios whispered to Gabel, “If you betray us, or bring us harm in any way, I will kill you.”

He nodded. “Anything to be away from here.”

A tall succubus questioned, “Why do you free that one?”

“The witch has tired of him and wishes to make an example of him to the others.”

She agreed that he had grown tiresome.

A girl peered at the bars of a cell to Keleios’ left. She was blond and blue-eyed, looking more like the fisherfolk than an Astranthian. She was young, fifteen at the oldest. Once she had been journeyman to the witch Harque. She had been imprisoned for failing once too often. Keleios wanted to take the girl with them, but the succuba wouldn’t believe her if all prisoners were suddenly released. The gods had blessed her trickery as it was. Keleios turned her back on the girl’s watching eyes and entangled Gabel in the same spell that held Eroar and Tobin. “Go stand by the others.”

He moved without a word.

The succubus laughed. “A wonderful spell to quiet that one. He even talks when he ruts.”

As Lothor was brought out, she bespelled him, also. His silver eyes looked into hers for a moment before they went peacefully blank. There was a terrible rage in those eyes.

They followed her quietly in single file. A guard of succuba fluttered round them to gasp at the carnage in the torture area. Keleios/Alharzor explained, “Aaah, I do not know what began this carnage, but an ice demon unknown to me slew the green demon and Slucba, the earth demon. I surprised him, and he fought me. I was forced to kill him. It was regrettable.”

“Yes, red demon, regrettable.” The voice was low but defiantly female. A large succubus walked into the room. She wore a golden sword and belt across her hips and a dagger in a wrist sheath on her right arm. Two straight ivory horns rose out of her skull, and her hair was the color of a good ruby, pigeon blood red. “Explain to me what has happened here.”

“Elvinna, when have I had to explain anything to you?”

Her full lips drew back in a snarl, exposing ivory teeth made for drawing blood. “Since when have you been able to kill other demons without asking the witch first?” Her eyes narrowed, pupilless and yellow. “And where is your necklace of obedience?” Her sword snicked from its sheath. “Imposter.” She hissed.

Keleios broke the spell on the men, slid Lothor’s ax toward him, and began forcing Alharzor back into the sword. Eroar blasted Elvinna with a bolt of power that surprised her, for most humanoid males could not attack her. But Eroar was not human, and Lothor had been trained to resist. Only Tobin stood helpless.

Lothor screamed at Eroar, “Don’t let her call her guard.” Lothor scooped the battle-ax from the floor and began to attack the succuba. Eroar didn’t ask questions but shot spell after spell at the succubus. The guards were incubi and male heroes who had worshipped her in life and they were very dangerous. But Elvinna needed at least a few seconds to call them, and Eroar was not giving her the time.

Keleios didn’t have the sorcery left for a block that would defeat a demigod, but she had a demon-slaying sword. The sword swallowed Alharzor back eagerly, freeing itself for more bloodletting. Keleios called to Eroar, “I’ll distract her; you put up a mind block.”

The demon goddess sneered at the silver sword and the delicate attacker. Their blades met with a metallic scream in a shower of blue and red sparks. Eroar’s block went up, tingling through Keleios’ mind as the golden blade sought her life. The weapons recognized each other, their sentience pulsing through the hands. When the blades touched, it was like a jolt of lightning.

Keleios stumbled in a patch of melted ice, and the demon sprang forward, slashing for her head. The silver sword sprang to block with a shock that numbed Keleios’ sword arm to the shoulder. She was forced to draw farther upon the sword’s enchantment to attack and regain her feet. The sword’s death song rang in her ears, sweet music, and she felt the eagerness as her own.

Someone shouted as she sent the demon back with a flurry of attacks. Keleios did not understand the words, and then she concentrated, letting the sword fight for a moment.

“Keleios, get away from her.”

It was Lothor. She reached into the sword, forcing it back, forcing her will upon it. It struggled, nearly costing her her sword arm. Keleios feinted and made a pass at the unprotected belly and rolled over the rack to hear the golden sword bite deeply into the wood. Sword up, ready for attack, she heard a sizzling and a hideous scream. She peered cautiously round the rack to see Lothor with his ax pointed straight out. A crackling jag of white lightning came from its end and pinned the demon goddess to the wall. She writhed, glowing with heat and light.

Lothor lowered the weapon, and the light stopped. The demon sank to the floor and began to fade, snarling, “I’ll remember this, black healer, and you, half-elf,” She was gone, sword and all.

Lothor said, “Let us go quickly; others will come. I don’t know how long it will take for her to collect enough energy to attack again—two days if we are lucky.”

Tobin had been unable to attack the demons for he lacked a magic weapon. The magic of the demon goddess was too much for him, as it had been for Gabel. Tobin whispered, “So that was Elvinna. Now I know all my friends in Meltaan were lying; they never bedded that.”

Keleios said, “Harque’s death will slow pursuit. She was always so jealous of her power. The demons will be disorganized for a time. We must be off the island before they find a new leader.”

No one argued with her. She led them out, knowing the lay of the keep, but insisted that if Gabel was to walk in back of her, that Lothor keep a weapon on him.

Tobin took offense at this. “Why did you ask the black healer and not me?”

“Because if Gabel moves to betray us, I want him killed. You, dear Tobin, would not kill someone just because I told you to. Lothor would.”

There was the sound of copper bells, slightly off key, and the little green demon appeared. “I warned you first, Master, I warned first.”

Keleios looked at the squat demon. “Yes, Groghe, you warned me first. Come along.”