CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

Nalyx’s heart was in his throat as he led Gantalla across the courtyard, thanking the gods that it was deserted. Never in his life had he done something as reckless as what they were doing tonight. He’d faced hoards of demons, dragons, unicorns, he’d been burned and stabbed and beaten, but none of that seemed anything like as terrifying as trying to imagine what would happen if they failed in their attempts to get Gantalla’s sister free.

“Why did you bring your sword?” Gantalla whispered to him, as they crept around the end of the building and headed towards the town square.

“In case anything goes wrong.”

It seemed like an obvious answer to him, so he was surprised when Gantalla suddenly stopped, glaring at him with an offended look on her face. “Alithmain isn’t going to harm anyone.”

“What?” He frowned at her, then suddenly realised how she’d taken his comment. “No! I mean in case some fool-headed human tries to get in our way.”

“Oh!” She looked genuinely stunned by that. “You mean you’d… You’d kill a human? To save us?”

Would he? He still didn’t really know. He didn’t want either Gantalla or her sister harmed, but killing one of the townsfolk would be just as bad. “I seriously hope I don’t have to.”

They paused at the entrance to the town square and Nalyx scanned the area, his eyes drawn to the slightest movement, his gaze lingering until he was certain it was clear. A tree on the far side cast flickering shadows as its leaves moved in a slight breeze. A nightingale chirped cheerfully from atop a nearby roof. And further away, he heard the shrill screech of a bat. But the square itself was empty.

He looked around at the windows overlooking the square. Any one of them could house an inadvertent spy. Thankfully, all the lights seemed to be off, though his gaze lingered on the windows of the hospital. The night nurses would be awake, some of the few people in town who had a genuine reason to be up and about at this hour, but hopefully they would have better things to do than stare out at the empty streets in the middle of the night.

The location of the cage, of course, was the worst possible place for them to enact their rescue. No cover, plenty of vantage points for people to see them, multiple angles from which they could be surprised or attacked. As far as military strategy went, it was a disaster. But the simple truth was that they had no other choice.

There was a quarter moon, just bright enough for them to find their way, but hopefully not enough to draw any attention to them. “Let’s move up to the bakery,” Nalyx whispered to Gantalla. She hadn’t made a sound since they’d arrived at the square. “Keep to the shadows, then we can take another look around from there. But one way or another, we’re going to have to just make a run for it through the middle of the square.”

Gantalla nodded, rising gracefully and making her way on silent feet around the edge of the square, Nalyx only a few steps behind her. He kept his hand on the hilt of his sword, flinching at every tiny noise, but they made it to the bakery without incident, crouching down behind a stone bench. He had a better view of the rear end of the square from here. There were pockets of shadow, dim recesses where someone might have been hiding… but after a few patient minutes of waiting, nothing had moved. And no one knew of their plans. It was possible a drunk might have been loitering in one of the alcoves, taking a piss, but there was no reason for anyone to be lying in wait.

For a brief moment, he wondered whether Gantalla had told anyone what they intended to do, but dismissed the notion a moment later. She wasn’t stupid. If she had told anyone, it would most likely have been another one of her own people, hiding in plain sight as they disguised themselves as a human. And suddenly, he found himself wondering who else in their sprawling town was something other than what they appeared to be. As he’d pointed out himself, Gantalla wasn’t the first person to make it through the gate. She’d had to have got the extra necklace from someone from Chalandros, after all. So how many people were there in town who wore the obsidian jewels? How many shopkeepers or merchants or tradesmen were actually something else?

Pulling his mind back into focus, Nalyx dismissed the idea. He had more important things to worry about. Gantalla was saying nothing, making no move at all to hurry him up, and he was grateful for her patience. She had more reason than him to want this to go well, but to trust him to take the lead still showed remarkable faith in him. If he’d been in her position, he wasn’t sure he’d have been as trusting.

Finally, he was satisfied that they were alone. “Head straight for the cage,” he said. “Keep Alithmain quiet. There’s no reason for anyone to be awake, but if she starts making a racket, there’s a dozen houses within earshot who could hear her. I’ll be a little way behind you, just so I don’t startle her too much.”

Gantalla nodded. She rose halfway to her feet, then suddenly seemed to change her mind. She crouched down again, then planted a firm kiss to his lips. “Thank you,” she said. Then she was gone, moving in quiet dashes across the courtyard. He watched as she approached the cage. Alithmain was asleep, from the looks of it, but he could see the exact moment she woke. She tensed, jerking upright from her position slumped against the bars, and he heard a gentle murmur of voices… followed by a startled squeal.

“SHHH!” He could hear Gantalla’s sharp warning even from here, and he tensed, looking about urgently. The square was still empty. Nothing moved.

A moment later, Gantalla waved him over. With one last glance around, he darted out of cover, heading to the front of the cage.

“This is Nalyx,” Gantalla told her sister when he arrived. “He’s human, but he’s here to help us.”

“You look like a human,” Alithmain said to Gantalla, fearful confusion in her voice. “What have you done?”

“I have an obsidian gem that’s been enchanted by a witch. I’ve got one for you, too. When you put it on, you’ll look as human as I do. It’s the only way to get you safely away from here.”

“Witches! Yes,” Alithmain said. “Witches are wonderful. But how are you going to get me out of here?” She was terrified, likely near hysterical, and it was no surprise, given that she’d had the entire day to imagine her own gruesome death a thousand times over.

“With this,” Nalyx said, holding up the key. Alithmain rose to her knees, gripping the bars of the cage as he worked the lock. It was heavy and stiff from lack of use. This cage was probably only brought out of storage once or twice a year.

“Why is a human helping me?” Alithmain asked Gantalla, as she watched Nalyx coaxing the key to turn. After a long, firm jiggle, the mechanism clicked open, and he slid the shackle out of its hole.

“It’s a really long story,” Gantalla said, “and I can tell you all about it when we get out of here. Come on, let’s get you down.” She held out her hand to steady her sister, as Nalyx held the door open.

“Actually, that’s a really good question,” a loud voice said from behind them, and Nalyx spun around, the lock and the key both clattering noisily to the ground. Captain Leefe stood a short distance away, regarding them coolly. “Tell me, Nalyx. Why is a human helping a demon?”

He could feel the fear radiating off Gantalla as a visceral wave. She planted herself between Leefe and Alithmain, drawing a short knife from her belt. But with or without the weapon, she was no match for the Captain of the Guard.

“Because she’s not evil,” Nalyx told the captain, keeping his voice calm and steady. For the moment, he didn’t make a move for his sword, hoping they could settle this with words and reason instead. “They’re people, just like you or me. They’re not demons. Their world is dying, and they’re just trying to find a way to survive.”

“Have you been brainwashed, or are you just blind? Fire-breathing dogs? Flaming unicorns? Enormous black dragons? These creatures are spat out of the mouth of hell itself, and if this vile female has convinced you otherwise, it’s because she’s used some kind of hypnotism on you. Well, perhaps it was a mistake to bring her into town, after all. If that’s what she’s capable of, she’d best be kept well away from our own citizens.”

“How did you know we were going to be here?” Nalyx asked, trying to distract the captain. Gantalla and Alithmain were cautiously edging away from them both, but if they moved too far or too fast, he knew Leefe would be all over them in a heartbeat.

“I noticed the key missing,” Leefe said, his tone smooth and patronising. “And given you were the only one in my room today, it wasn’t hard to figure out where it had gone. But the better question was why you’d steal it. So I thought I’d come and see for myself. I must say, I am surprised. A warrior of the gate helping a demon to escape. Have you completely lost your mind?”

“The demons mean us no harm,” Nalyx tried again. It wasn’t likely the captain was going to listen, but he at least had to try. “The only reason they fight us is because we keep trying to kill them. We should try having a conversation with them. Find out what they really want. Negotiate peace.”

Captain Leefe chuckled, though it was a harsh, cold sound. “I’ve never heard anything so ridiculous. I’ve spent my entire life defending that gate, and I’m not about to just turn around and let the hoards swarm all over us now.

“And you, Gantalla,” he said, turning to her next. “You’re that last person I expected to find in a situation like this. You were offered marriage to one of my finest warriors. You’d just throw that all away for this foul creature? It’s a good thing we delayed that wedding after all. You don’t deserve Hallix.”

“I’d say quite the opposite is true,” Gantalla said, not sounding the least bit cowed by his denouncement. “I think he’s the one that doesn’t deserve me.” She said nothing more, but Nalyx felt every muscle in his body tense in fear. From the sounds of it, Leefe hadn’t yet worked out what Gantalla was, but any stray word might tip him off. For Gantalla’s part, her silence was the wiser choice.

“So now what, Nalyx?” Captain Leefe asked. “What’s the next step in this brilliant plan of yours?”

“Now you let us walk away. Gantalla and the demon will leave town. You’ll never see them again. And in the morning, we simply say that the demon used some sort of magic to let herself out of the cage. I will not stand by to see either of them harmed.” Captain Leefe was going to refuse his offer, Nalyx knew without a shadow of a doubt. But the question was, what the hell was Nalyx going to do about it?

A look of disappointment settled on Leefe’s face. He slowly drew his sword. “Stand aside, Nalyx. You’re a fine warrior, and we can still work this out between us. But the demon has to die.”

Nalyx drew his own sword, planting himself firmly between Leefe and the two women. “Not on my watch.”

Seeing that trying to reason with Nalyx wasn’t going to work for him, Leefe’s lips drew back in a smug smirk. “So that’s the way of it, then? You can’t fight me. You couldn’t best me on a normal day, but with your shoulder injured, you don’t stand a chance. Stand down, soldier. And let me do what’s right for this town and slay that demon.”

“You don’t think I can best you?” Nalyx asked, forcing some of his usual cockiness into his voice. “Well, that’s a bet I’m willing to take.” He was bluffing and they both knew it. All he was really doing was buying time, trying to come up with some other plan, or perhaps just praying for a miracle. At the very least, he could fight the captain to give Gantalla and Alithmain time to run away.

“I don’t want to kill you, Nalyx,” Leefe said. “But I will if I have to.”

“Funny,” a voice said, from somewhere over to Nalyx’s right. “I was about to say the same thing.”

Nalyx spun around, seeing half a dozen shadows emerge from the dim corners of the square. A glance over his shoulder revealed more, coming from the other direction, and he cursed blackly, before swinging his attention back to Leefe. Who the fuck were these newcomers? How had they known they were going to be here? And more importantly, whose side were they on? As they stepped further out of the shadows, he could see that each of them wore a hooded cloak, their faces hidden from view. He thought he recognised the voice of the woman who had spoken, but in his panic, he couldn’t quite place it.

“Who the hell are you?” Leefe asked, a note of fear in his voice for the first time, and that, at least, was reassuring. If he hadn’t brought these others here, they were likely on Gantalla’s side. And then Nalyx realised who they were. Other demons, residents of the town, who had somehow found out about their plan to free Alithmain. He backed himself up towards Gantalla, preparing to defend her and her sister from whatever happened next.

◊          ◊          ◊

Gantalla watched in astonishment as the hooded figures closed ranks on them. The woman who’d spoken threw back the hood of her cloak, revealing the jet-black face of a salas, complete with horns curving up from her head. Gosta. Praise the gods, she’d come to help. But an aging woman was no match for the captain, albeit that she was from one of the fiercest races of Chalandros.

Another man threw back his hood – another salas, though Gantalla could tell from the way his black skin was fading to grey that he was well advanced in years. More figures revealed themselves. A rodolan, his skin dim blue in the darkness; two deelees, red with black stripes across their faces. Then a man who appeared to be nothing more than shadow and smoke, his face barely visible in the darkness. But his eyes blazed red, flickering like the flames of a fire. Gods above, he was an infernal! She hadn’t seen one of those in years!

And then the last one, and Gantalla instantly recognised her as Kit, the witch from the jewellery store. Beside her stood the large dog who’d guarded her shop, and as Gantalla watched, the dog changed forms, becoming lean and black, with blazing eyes and legs that were longer than an ordinary dog. A fire-dog. She’d known there was something odd about him from the moment she’d met him.

“I’ll kill the lot of you!” Leefe snarled, readying himself for battle. “You don’t scare me. I’ve killed thousands of your kind!”

“No doubt you have,” Kit said, holding out her hands. “But you cannot fight if you cannot move.” Light surged from the ends of her fingers, swirling across the square and engulfing the captain. He fought the magic, but it was a futile battle. A moment later, he was frozen to the spot, his sword still raised to attack, his mouth half open. Only his eyes moved, as he looked from one figure to the next in terror.

With his head held low and a growl rumbling from his throat, the fire-dog approached the captain. He made a hacking sound, then vomited a glowing coal from deep in his belly. In battle, the dogs could regurgitate great plumes of fire. Clearly this one was keeping careful control of his powers, issuing a threat, but not intending immediate harm.

“Last chance, Captain,” Gosta said, taking a step closer. “We don’t wish to harm you. But we cannot allow you to harm our sister.”

Kit allowed the magic to retreat a little, letting the captain speak. “You can all rot in hell, you fucking demons!” He attempted to swing his sword, but his arm moved only an inch or two before the magic tightened, holding him fast.

The infernal stepped forward, and Gantalla cringed as she saw what was coming. Fire-dogs could create fire, but infernals were elementals, able to manipulate flame at will. The man reached down towards the coal and sparks leapt up into his hand. He raised his arm, the flames swirling into a fiery ball. “Godspeed, Captain Leefe,” he said. “May you find peace on the other side.” The flames shot forwards, engulfing the captain in a raging fire. His clothes caught first, then his hair, and Gantalla forced herself to watch as his skin melted off, his mouth frozen open in an endless, silent scream.

Finally, Kit called the swirls of magic back to herself, and Leefe’s blackened body crumpled to the ground, now little more than a charred and smoking pile. They all stood in silence, expressions grim as they stared at the fallen captain.

“Thank you,” Gantalla said, though her voice trembled. “I’m sorry you had to do that,” she said to the infernal. “It couldn’t have been easy.”

The infernal shrugged. “I prefer not to take life if I can avoid it. But I’ve watched them kill too many of our people. My conscience is clear.”

Gantalla nodded, then felt a sob rise up in her throat. She swallowed it down again. “Thank you all,” she said again, looking around at the others. “We owe you our lives.”

Gosta slid her hood over her face again – likely to guard against the risk of onlookers – and then she muttered a spell and her form returned to that of an ageing human woman. “You didn’t think we’d let you deal with this all by yourself, did you?” she said, her voice both stern and compassionate. “Our kind have to look after each other.”

“Gosta?” Nalyx was gaping at her, his face pale. He slowly sheathed his sword. “Fuck me, you’re a…”

“I’m a salas,” Gosta said, ignoring his shock. “And you’re welcome.”

“But how did you… You’ve lived here for years! How did you all…?”

“Stay hidden?” Gosta finished his sentence, a sly smile on her face. “With the utmost care and caution. I trust that you’re willing to keep this a secret?”

“Absolutely,” Nalyx said, eyeing the captain’s body again. No doubt he was imagining his own painful death if he did anything but agree. Not that Gantalla had any doubts about his integrity, but it was still reassuring to see that he understood the severity of the situation.

The infernal pulled his cloak over his head, then he, too, resumed his human form, and Gantalla was shocked to see that he was one of the young men who worked as messengers in town, delivering packages between shops and tradespeople. He’d visited the hospital several times in the last few weeks, delivering supplies, but Gantalla had never suspected he was anything other than a human. “I’m Nerik,” he said. Then he stepped closer to Gantalla. “Please, take this. It’ll help you get to Palashran.” He held out a small purse, and Gantalla took it, opening the top to look inside. It was filled with coins, mostly coppers, but with a few silver ones on top. “A few of the folk in town decided to make a donation.”

Gantalla’s mouth dropped open in awe. “Thank you! Oh, my goodness, you’re all so wonderful. But… I stole some money from you,” she blurted out, looking over at Gosta. “I’m sorry, but I needed some boots for Alithmain. I can pay you back.” She held out the purse awkwardly.

Gosta snorted. “Think nothing of it. Why do you think I left it there?” she said, sounding almost annoyed. “But you were supposed to take the whole purse, you silly girl.”

Gantalla let out a laugh. “Of course. Why didn’t I think of that?”

“You need to go,” Gosta said, all traces of humour disappearing. “Don’t worry about this.” She gestured to the captain’s still-smouldering body. “We’ll make up a story. One way or another, the townsfolk will blame the demons. It’s unfortunate to have our reputation blackened even further, but sometimes these things can’t be helped.”

Alithmain had so far said nothing, but she stepped forward now. “Thank you all,” she said. “I’m truly grateful, and if you ever need anything in return, you have only to ask.”

“I’ll be sending a letter to Kit once we’re settled,” Gantalla told the group. “I’ll let her know where we live, and if any travellers come in our direction, we’d be happy to let them stay with us until they find their own way.”

She picked up her bag and tucked the purse of coins inside, then checked Alithmain over. “Are you injured?”

“Nothing serious,” her sister said. “Where are we going?”

“To Palashran. It’s a city about five days’ walk to the east. We should be safer there, further away from the gate.”

Alithmain nodded. “Let’s get started, then. Thank you all, once again. And goodbye for now.”

Gantalla began to lead the way towards the road, which was wide and empty as it curved up past the hospital. But a quick glance behind her made her realise that Nalyx wasn’t with them. He was still staring at the captain’s body, looking like he wanted to throw up.

“Nalyx? Are you okay?” She felt her heart ache for him. It would have been enough of a shock to be confronted by a group of demons, but to see his captain burned to death before his very eyes…

His head snapped up and he abruptly turned away from the sight. “Fine,” he said, though his voice was rough, and when he moved to follow them, his limbs seemed stiff. “We should go.”

“I’m sorry,” Gantalla began, but he cut her off sharply.

“Don’t. Let’s just get out of here.” Without another word, he strode off across the square, leaving Gantalla to follow along behind.