Ann Aguirre - Devil's Punch

He unlocked the double doors, waited for me to step inside, and then added, “With your permission, I’ll remove the dampener cuff and your bonds.”

“Go ahead.”

With tentative hands, he did so, and then shut the door between us, as if I would slam a lethal spell into his skull the first chance I got. And Ninlil was thinking about it, but she decided to save her energy for the coming battle. I rubbed my wrists, bent and massaged my ankles to get full circulation back. You never knew when coordination would come in handy.

Thus warmed up, I strode down the narrow, sloping corridor. It was dark and quiet as I went toward the light ahead, where the space widened into the arena. Once I emerged, I saw that arena was, perhaps, an overstatement. This was more of a pit with stone stadium seating above and around it. The sunken fighting area spanned twenty by twenty meters, not too much space in which to run.

We won’t need to, Ninlil told me.

As I spun in a slow circle to take stock of my surroundings, people—or I should say demons—filed into the chamber above. They spoke in low whispers, and they were all Saremon. Good to know the other castes weren’t involved in this.

I will destroy them, the queen said. They will not profit. They will not survive this day’s work .

It was easy to sling vengeful promises when we couldn’t do a damn thing but what we were told. She settled then, her anger chilling to an icy resolve that fortified my own. With her help, I opened to my witch sight to assess the wards Oz had sworn would prevent me from striking the audience. They wove in dark, beautiful patterns along the walls.

For a moment, Ninlil admired their artistry and then her sigh filled my head. We must fight—and win. Then strike as they come to release us. If we lie in wait outside the doors, we can take a whole squadron .

Will you have enough in reserve after the match? I wondered.

Certainty filled my head and lent me confidence. I squared my shoulders and waited for the enemy.

On the other side of the pit, another set of doors opened. The ground trembled beneath the weight of whatever was chugging down the tunnel toward me. My opponent stormed into sight, and while I assessed it, Ninlil whispered in demontongue, sparking a handful of darklight as if it were a snowball. This thing was easily twice the height of a Hazo and half again as wide. It had scaly black hide, thick enough to excite admiration in a rhino, and its teeth jutted through its thin lower lip. Extra-long arms gave it an apelike appearance, but its fingers ended in razor-sharp talons.

There was no announcement; the monster just charged. As it ran for us, Ninlil unleashed her first spell. The darklight slammed the creature full in the chest, rocking it, but the magick rippled away without effect. Magick resistance, Ninlil said. This could be bad. Since I didn’t have a weapon and I had little combat experience, yeah, that would be an understatement.

The beast swung its arm like a crossbeam. My reaction time wouldn’t have been fast enough to avoid decapitation, but the demon queen took over, rolling me smoothly beneath the raking claws. I came up behind it in a half crouch, shaking from head to toe. I stepped back then, because if we were going to win this—if I was to survive to wreak havoc in this compound—I had to trust her.

In the time it took for the monster to come about, Ninlil readied another spell. This time, whispering her command words, she coiled the darkness into what looked like a snare, and it snapped tight around the thing’s calves as it took a step toward me. The magick didn’t dissipate, and the beast overbalanced. It caught itself on its overlong arms, claws digging into the stone, but I was already running. There wasn’t room to kite, but I had no chance close up. Which meant the longer I stayed away from it, the longer I kept breathing. I might have a demon queen in my head, throwing spells, but my body was all too mortal.

I whirled, darklight flaring from my fingertips as Ninlil voiced the words of power. She was casting so fast I didn’t even know what she was doing until the magick hit. A patch of black slammed into the creature’s head, wreathing it in shadow. Belatedly, I realized this was my mother’s blindness spell, adapted for demonic use. The monster roared in outrage and spun—rather, it tried. With its legs bound, it could only hop.

We need a weapon .

She conveyed to me that her spells couldn’t kill it, only immobilize it, and they wouldn’t last forever. I skimmed the walls and found a spear with a broken haft at the far corner, presumably left from another match. There were bloodstains in here and bits of debris. Urgency sent me sprinting across as the monster struggled with the dispersing magick. With a scream of rage, it chased me blindly. I zigzagged as much as the small space permitted, and it couldn’t hear or smell well enough to place me.

I snagged the weapon on the run, and splintered wood gouged my palms. Ignoring the pain, I doubled back and came in low. As Ninlil chanted up another blindness spell, I struck, stabbing the thing up through the groin. Its claws came down, and only the demon queen saved me from complete evisceration. With her preternatural reflexes, I twirled and took the blow down my right side. Blood gushed from both wounds, the monster’s and mine, but I hadn’t killed it.

Join with me, she whispered. Some of yours, some of mine. We are stronger together. If you fall here, Binder, your companions die as well .

No. But the refusal felt shaky. The demon queen withdrew, leaving me to my own devices. Fear streamed through me like whitewater rapids, drowning me. My wound throbbed twice as hard, twice as hot, and my whole body trembled.

I slid sideways, but not in time to avoid a blow on the backswing. She made me absorb the full impact, and I tumbled backward ten feet, landing hard on my injured side. The Saremon crowd shrieked, scenting blood. They thought I was done.

We’ll both die, she said. Is that what you want?

Do something about those claws. I’ll…think about it .

Ninlil’s agreement came at once. Cloudbind .

Then she was speaking the words, driving the magick, as I surged to my feet with renewed energy. Lowering my head to charge, I wheeled toward the beast with a feint and wrested my broken weapon from its crotch. I screamed as I pulled because the motion wrenched my wounded side, and the monster raked at me, but its claws were covered in darklight that offered a magickal buffer. The blunt trauma hurt like hell and I saw stars, but at least it didn’t take my head off. Another hit like that, though, and I was done.

Let me in, or we both fall. Last chance, Corine Solomon. Even my power is not infinite. Will you let them die of your fear, your weakness?

Oh, no. Chance. Greydusk. Shannon. At last, my will chipped away, I accepted the unthinkable bargain. Yes. Do it .

The queen threw her strength into mine, and we merged. I had all her experience, all her power at my fingertips, and the spear pulled free in a bloody fountain. Ichor spewed from the wound. Again, I thought, and I drove the weapon into the vein on the creature’s thigh. It could die. It would die. Even with my wounds, riding the royal aura, I spun away from the injured beast. I came up behind it and stabbed twice more. Back of the thigh. Hamstring. Its chest was too armored for me to penetrate, but it was softer down low. Its sight came back too late. I stabbed. Again. Again. Until it bled from ten separate wounds. The audience was screaming, but it sounded distant, as if through a wall of glass. I didn’t care. All that mattered was that this thing died.