Storm Holt (The Prophecies of Zanufey Book 3) (8 page)

‘They cannot kill us all, my lord, not if we hide amongst the shadows as we Shadow Demons have always done since they came. They have tried for thousands of years to annihilate us, but clearly they cannot,’ Wekurd wheezed. ‘And if they cannot destroy us then they can never fully take the Murk.’

Gedrock’s old advisor came forward a step, his skinny lank frame bent over and held up by a gnarled staff. His bald head shone in the murky orange-green light and a lipless grin revealed three very sharp and surprisingly white fangs that stood out of his otherwise grey face. His long thin tail curled and uncurled around his right foot as it always did when he was vexed.

Gedrock grumbled in response. His advisor was right, but for a king to live in exile made his head pound with rage. He knew not to come up here because it always angered him, and he hadn’t done for several moons, but now something made him. For some reason he just had to see Zorock set once more over their lost kingdom.

‘Let’s go back into the caverns where we are safe. A new nest of Wursels has been discovered, and their blood is fresh for drinking,’ Wekurd said.

The thought of hot blood from a Wursel softened his scowl, and he almost turned to go. Almost. Their lives, the future of the Shadow Demons, and their entire planet were more important than fresh blood from a Wursel.

‘Go. I stay.’

‘I cannot leave your side when enemies might be close,’ Wekurd wheezed.

‘A moment more. Alone,’ Gedrock growled in finality.

Wekurd knew better than to question his King when in this dire mood, and he limped off unhappily, his staff dragging between steps. Gedrock watched him disappear into the blackness of the cave, just one of the many entrances to their huge network of caverns, their place of exile.

Gedrock turned back to the darkening orange-green sky, and his scowl returned. Though it was a long time before he’d came into existence, Grazen and Shadow Demons had once been one, cousins united before Karhlusus came and opened the gates to the Pit, letting the greater demons into the Murk.

Karhlusus was not an ordinary human, and neither was the other half of him just any greater demon. Gedrock’s Finder, the one who’d dug him out of the rock and brought him into existence, told him that Karhlusus the human was once a great black arts wizard from the higherworld, and this wizard was far more powerful than any demon he conjured up. He was stronger than the strongest greater demon. Which is how Karhlusus conjured up the great King Kull, and held him in thrall until this day. King Kull himself was an ancient king of the greater demons, a demon who had managed to crush his enemies and dominate the entire greater demon world.

Knowing they were greater than the sum of their parts, King Kull gave Karhlusus more power than he could ever have had alone. In return Karhlusus gave Kull a physical human body in which he could move around the Murk and, more importantly, the higherworld Maioria. So they agreed to share one body. An abomination if ever Gedrock had heard one. It was demon-possessed Karhlusus who broke through the demon tunnels from Maioria, coming through the Storm Holt gate into the Murk. It was from there that King Kull, through Karhlusus, opened the gates to the Pit and let the greater demons flood in.

Hope ended then for them - no lesser demon was ever a match for a greater demon. Gedrock clenched his fists. Now, when he looked at the moon of the Murk setting gracefully over the place of his enemies, he was reminded that they were doomed and their world was lost. It was only a matter of time. He knew from the images in the crystal shard that Karhlusus amassed a growing army of greater demons. Soon he would open the gates to the Pit, soon greater demons would come and destroy them all.
 

Blackness fluttered in his peripheral vision. Instinctively he melted his form into shadow, his whole body disappearing into darkness. The raven landed close and looked straight up at him completely unafraid. Though Gedrock had no form the raven was not fooled. He was reminded that ravens could see what moved in the shadows. Ravens came from the higherworld, and that was the last thing Gedrock needed.

Of all the creatures that lived upon the higherworlds, and of those that resided upon the underworlds, only ravens could move at will between the two. Demons and wizards had to use gateways and tunnels of energy connecting the worlds, and only the most powerful and skilled could open a gate and navigate through. No lesser demon had willingly gone to the higherworld since the gates were sealed after the Demon Wars thousands of years ago. All gates, that was, except one.

When he did not materialise the raven squawked. Carmedrak was the lesser demons’ god and Zorock was his messenger. The raven belonged to a goddess not of their world, so why should he, King Gedrock, answer her messenger? The raven squawked again.

‘We want nothing from your blinding world,’ Gedrock growled at the bird, allowing only his face to appear out of the shadows. He caused his eyes to glow red menacingly and bared his fangs, but the bird was not phased and instead took a step closer. It cocked its head expectantly. Curiosity at the bird’s bravery made him materialise fully. That and wondering what hot raven blood tasted like. Blood from higherworld creatures was far more delicious and powerful than anything they could get in the Murk.

Gedrock reached to grab the bothersome bird, but as his clawed fingers brushed the bird’s feathers pain exploded in his head paralysing him, preventing him from roaring aloud, preventing him from fighting or fleeing back into the shadows. The raven had a message for him and he had to receive it. The world began to spin and he thought he was falling but there was nothing to stop him. He lashed around and flapped his wings then, real as day, Carmedrak Rock loomed huge and ominous in his vision.

Gedrock, held aloft by unseen and unfelt hands, plunged through the thick jagged black walls of Carmedrak Rock. He instinctively shielded his face from impending doom, only to be amazed that he passed unscathed through walls of stone. Then bright white light blinded him. He howled as he recognised that which all demons fear, the white spear, Velistor. Its horrific light seared his eyes and froze blood. He slammed his eyes shut but the light came even there, burning into his sockets, his mind and his black heart with its awful light.

‘Get it away from me,’ he screamed.

The light went and slowly he dropped his arms. It was night and he was no longer within Carmedrak Rock, instead he looked at it from afar. He glanced down from the rugged mountainside upon which he stood and took in the vast emptiness of Carmedrak Plain that surrounded the great spire of Carmedrak Rock. In the distance the rest of the mountain range that ringed Carmedrak Plain rose high, black and foreboding into the dark sky.

All of the Shadow Demons stood behind him. Tens of thousands of lesser demons shuffling restlessly, wings beating in anticipation, eyes flashing red with rage as they looked upon their lost kingdom. Then Zorock tipped the mountain peaks to the east and his green light spread across the plain. There came a great noise of rock and metal grinding violently against each other and shaking the ground. Then the huge door at the base of Carmedrak Rock began to open like a great black cavernous mouth. Gedrock’s guts squirmed as thousands of huge greater demons intermingled with their slaves, the smaller Grazen, spewed out from behind that door.

‘The Pit Gates are open,’ Wekurd’s thin voice rasped in horror beside him.

‘Karhlusus has opened them. We are doomed,’ Gedrock replied, ‘but I will not become a slave like the Grazen.’

Gedrock gripped his twin-bladed sword, lifted it high and spread his wings wide. With a howl he leapt from the rock and all those with wings followed their king’s flight. The others shifted into the shadows and melted down the mountainside, a great wave of darkness flooding into the valley to meet and wreak death against their cousins and the hated greater demons.

Gedrock dropped fast, twin-bladed sword leading his flight. In one motion he descended upon the left flank of a group of Grazen and decapitated a slower moving one. Its head slid between his two blades, barely slowing his descent. Thick black blood oozed over his sword and he swiftly melted back into the shadows as the Grazen’s body turned to molten rock and moments later exploded. A hazard of killing any Grazen; if you weren’t quick enough withdrawing your weapon, it would melt in the terrific heat and then explode, along with whoever still held the killing weapon.

Gedrock’s thick claws raked into the dirt as he rematerialised. He spun, decapitated another and fell back. He swung his blades and smashed against the trident of a third Grazen just as the second exploded, showering them with burning ash and rock. They roared at each other ignoring the molten debris, once cousins now despised enemies. Fury drove Gedrock’s sword fast, and the third Grazen fell headless to the floor. Decapitation was the only way to be sure to kill a Grazen.

A Grazen exploded to his right, the shock waves stunned him for a moment and searing ash showered him again. To his left there came a gut-wrenching high pitched wail followed by a flash of black light as one of his Shadow Demons was speared through the heart. The Grazen holding the spear was not quick enough and Gedrock smirked as the Grazen turned black and then disappeared forever into shadow. Lesser demons never died alone and always sought to take a soul or two with them.

Gedrock raised his blades to counter the axe of another Grazen. Fury gleamed in his opponent’s eyes and for a moment Gedrock wondered what lies Karhlusus had told his brethren to make them hate the Shadow Demons so. He hardened his mind and heart. The Grazen’s axe fell between his two blades and in one motion Gedrock yanked the weapon away, disarming it, and swung back to slice off its head. He disappeared back into the shadows, feeling a flutter as the Grazen exploded and glowing rocks flew through his shadow.

A flying Grazen caught Gedrock from behind as his form solidified. It was a big one, bigger than he, and thick claws ripped into his shoulders as heavy wings beat upwards lifting him quickly from the ground. His cold black blood seeped from his wounds, making him even more furious. Through the pain he beat his own wings hard, driving him up into the underside of the Grazen that lifted him.

A trident struck down, three prongs speared his chest but not deep enough to kill. Howling in pain he gripped the trident, shoved it up, and drove his own sword into a leg that carried him. Cold blood spattered over his face and agonised screeches seared his ears. He twisted the sword hard and felt blades crunch through bones before dismembering the foot.

With only one claw embedded it was not enough for the Grazen to hold him. Gedrock ripped his shoulder from its grasp and flew upwards. In a swift motion he struck the head from the Grazen’s shoulders. The Grazen plummeted downwards. It turned to molten stone in mid-air and exploding as it hit the ground, maiming two of its own.

Ahead more flying Grazen came, their brown skin gleaming with a greenish tinge in Zorock’s light. He’d been exposed, and they knew to look for and kill the leader of the Shadow Demons. But the flying Grazen never reached him.

A chain of burning spikes lassoed around his throat and dragged him through the air. Flapping his wings he spun around and glanced at his enemy, the huge pitch-black shape of a greater demon flapped its wings lazily. Its form was not solid, it was like a Shadow Demon part merged into shadow. Great horns curled away above its small pointed ears and its face was thin and long, terrifyingly long, its black eyes barely visible in the rest of its dark form.

Its wings spread wide and a long thin tail snaked around Gedrock’s waist in a crushing vice. Gedrock shuddered, fear of the greater demon sapping his strength. He could not fight. Instead he watched the battle unfold below as he was dragged through the air towards Carmedrak Rock. Dragged over a battle where the Shadow Demons were being slaughtered, towards a balcony where a hideous pale-faced demonic wizard stood grinning.

In a great iron cage behind the hated demon wizard was the spear, Velistor, shining so bright and so horrific Gedrock could not look at it. Above the cage perched the raven. Everything he feared had come to pass. The Shadow Demons were doomed. The Murk was lost.