Angie Fox - ADS 03 - A Tale of Two Demon Slayers

Rachmort’s eyes blazed as he drew closer to me. “With every life, every soul, she grows more powerful.”

“How do you know this?” I demanded.

He stopped inches from me. “It is the way of the dark demon slayers.”

“I didn’t even know we had dark ones!”

I could see the sweat on his forehead and the fear behind his fury. “We wiped them out while you were still in diapers. We lost a lot of good ones in the pro cess.” He stared me down. “Didn’t you ever wonder why demon slayers are so rare? Why you’ve never met one like yourself? Hundreds of noble and powerful slayers died out in the Vast War. Hundreds of lines wiped out—forever. Now there’s just you.”

A chill swept down my spine. “Me?”

“You.”

I didn’t even want to say it. “I’m the last of the demon slayers?”

“Yes.”

Sweet switch stars.

Rachmort’s eyes never left mine. “You’re the only one who can defeat her.”

“But I’m defeating myself.”

“Yes.”

“My powers.”

“She is more powerful. She has your strengths and she has the power of generations of Skye magic behind her.”

“Lovely!”

Yes, I’d get right to killing the more powerful version of myself—with my strengths, my instincts, my powers, and an added dash of ancient griffin magic. Because I was the only one who had a shot in the world.

“She’s heading for the Callidora,” Rachmort hissed, right before the wards began to explode.

I burst out of the cave of visions and choked on the acrid smoke outside. Witches called to each other and dashed in an organized, frightening chaos. The earth shook and fire shot across the sky as the barriers took the impact of an all-out invasion.

Grandma ran straight for me, a leather bag of bottles clanking on her back. “They’re attacking at the Callidora!” An explosion rattled the ground under us.

“Who?” I demanded, hot on Grandma’s heels, as a wave of imps darkened the sky, black and menacing against the red of the setting sun.

Frieda and three other witches hauled a rusted cannon past us. “They’re breaking through!” she yelled, pointing to a spot in the sky where imps had already begun to divebomb the Callidora.

The creatures had torn through the Skye magic. Some of them. Others died on the sharp edges of the invisible barrier, their oily black fur erupting into flames and breaking into pieces as they fell onto the battle below.

Grandma grabbed Scarlet by the shoulder. “Tell Creely and the artillery witches to concentrate all defenses on that hole. Then bring up the other cannon. I want full aerial support.”

Rachmort bounded straight for me. “You ready, Lizzie?”

I struggled to stand my ground, caught in the stampede of witches and weapons. “Where’s Dimitri?” I demanded, scanning the chaos.

Rachmort grunted as he accepted a long tube from Hawk. “Your boyfriend shifted,” he said, lowering a pair of goggles with a brass weapons sight attached to the left lens. “He’s already in the middle of it.”

Dimitri didn’t know about Talos!

I took Rachmort by the weapon. “We need to warn him.”

Just then I saw my salvation. “Amara!”

She hauled three glass bowls and a jug of water and she didn’t even slow down until I stepped in front of her. “Not now,” she said, trying to push past me. “My brother is gone and so is Dimitri.”

“Yeah?” I said, catching her at the wrist. “This is why.”

I told her about her family’s deception—and what her brother would do to the man she loved. Amara’s haughty control cracked and her eyes widened.

“Impossible,” she murmured, her mouth barely forming the words.

But I detected the shift in her. On some level, she knew.

An anti-imp charge detonated over our heads, shaking the ground with a deafening boom.

It was suicide to stay where we were—in the heat of the battle.

“Come.” I dragged Amara closer to the cave of visions, willing Dimitri’s ancient family magic to protect us.

“We don’t have time for this,” she protested, struggling to keep a firm grip on the water, the bowls and whatever magic she had bursting from the linen bag at her shoulder.

My shoulder smashed against a rumpled seam of the cave of visions where armor fused with armor, and at that moment I felt the presence of the Helios clan.

“I don’t have time for this!” Amara’s eyes fixed on a spot past my shoulder and stared in horror—at what, I could only imagine.

“Make time!” I forced her attention on me. “I saw your father and his council through the cave of visions. They’re in a long blue room that backs up against the sea. They plotted this attack.”

“No.” She shook her head, her long black hair tangling around her shoulders, panic rising in her voice. “You can’t know about that room. I’m not even supposed to know about that room.”

Even as she spoke, I saw her making the connections in her mind. “They wanted…my father told me…” She stiffened, and for a moment I thought she was going to pitch sideways as the color drained from her face. “In the garden, I felt the traces lead back, but…I didn’t know!” She brought her hands to her mouth. “All this time and I didn’t know!”

“They were using you to get to this family. Talos used you too. But Dimitri doesn’t know about your brother. You have to warn him. Now. Shift. Go to him. Save Dimitri from your family.”

She nodded, tears in her eyes.

Amara stepped backward, not even seeing me anymore as she shifted. Her dress tore, the fine gold jewelry at her neck and wrists cracked and broke. Her body rippled as she bowed her head and grew into a massive silver griffin. She gave a pitiful roar as she beat her powerful wings and took flight toward the Callidora.

And I’d sent her there—to betray her brother and her family for a man she could never have.

Rachmort ducked out of the cave of visions and about gave me a heart attack. “You did good,” he said, flicking his wrist and unfolding a long scope. He peered through it. “Damn.”

A yellow fog trailed out of the cave of visions and the sulfur in the air intensified. “What were you doing in there?”

“Determining the strength and size of the enemy.”

“And?”

He removed the scope from his eye. “We’re screwed.”

Gangly tree nymphs chattered and danced around the necromancer. “Go to the hills,” he ordered the nymphs. “I can spot the rest without your help.” He folded the scope and hefted his weapon over his shoulder like the potato shooters we used as kids. “Now we do battle. And remember, you didn’t set this in motion any more than Amara did. Now that Dimitri knows what he’s up against, he can take care of himself.” Rachmort drew a spiral of magic from his hip pocket and shoved it down the barrel. “You can too. You know what they want.”

Yes.

Me.

And from the look of it, Dimitri’s entire family.

Grandma clapped my shoulder, her gray hair a tangled mess and fire in her eyes. “You ready to kick some ass?”

I slapped a hand against the five switch stars on my belt. “Bring it on.”

Excitement and fear roared through me as we raced for the Callidora. I could barely feel my feet under me as I hurtled through the forest. Witches had stopped along the sides to fire their weapons and reload. Imps streaked over us with a single purpose. They wanted what was at the Callidora.

Thick trees closed in on us from all sides, but I knew, I felt, I saw the danger ahead.

My hellish double—this doppelgänger—waited.

Blue flames catapulted from the house behind me. They soared, their magic like a thousand hot needle points to my back as they roared for the ancient ruins, taking out the flanks of the invading army.