The Sorcerer's Abyss (The Sorcerer's Path) (7 page)

“What is it you want?” Azerick asked impatiently.

“The succubi invade our territory and steal what is ours,” the balrog croaked. “We asked them to cease their encroachment but they refused. We demanded and they still refuse.”

“Yours is what you can defend. That is the law of the land,” the succubus replied languidly.

“There are rules! You taunt and insult us. You hurl filth at us from the skies! Such insults will not be tolerated!”

“Or what?” the very feminine demon taunted. “If you and your pathetic ground-bound ilk cannot protect your hunting grounds, what do you think you are going to do to stop us?”

“Maybe make you ground-bound with us, harpy witch!”

Faster than Azerick thought possible, the balrog leapt at the succubi, grabbed her left wing near the base, and savagely tore it from her back. The room instantly erupted into chaos. The grievously wounded succubus screeched in pain and rage and leapt away as her sisters took flight and began hurling balls of fire from their hands.

The Balrogs’ warty hide was tough and resisted much of the damage the searing heat of the succubi’s fireballs should have caused, so the winged demons changed tactics. They made swift, swooping dives at the ground-bound demons, hurling heavy objects they snatched up from around the room and dove swiftly from the vaulted ceiling, slashing at the stouter demons’ eyes with blades and claws. This tactic proved fatal in such a relatively confined area. Like a cat snatching a bird from the air, one balrog leapt thirty feet up, snatched a succubus from the air, twisted, and crushed its body, eliciting a series of sickening cracks until it ceased moving.

The flying demon women flapped their wings until the roof of the chamber prevented them from gaining any more altitude and focused their attacks on individual balrogs, pummeling it with stone and steel and striking it with dozens of fiery orbs. This concerted attack finally broke through the creature’s skin and left it a battered and smoldering corpse upon the floor.

The balrogs retaliated by tearing head-sized stones from the floor and flinging them with the power and accuracy of a catapult. One stone caught a succubus in the chest and it spiraled down like a struck bird. The two sides continued hurling stones, fire, and insults and the casualties were slowly mounting, as well as the damage being done to the audience chamber.

You need to put an end to this. Your ambivalence appears as weakness. To allow this kind of conduct within my great hall is unacceptable!

“I find it rather amusing. The gods know I need some entertainment,” Azerick retorted.

You will not find it amusing when they turn on you. The only thing keeping these creatures from each other’s throats, as well as yours, is fear.

“Fine.” Azerick stood and looked at both sides of the warring factions. “Enough!” Azerick had to duck as a stone the size of his head came whizzing past. “I said enough!”

Azerick raised his arms and extended his will. He thrust outward and sent every demon in the vast chamber crashing into the far wall hard enough to crack bones and stun the senses. He thrust his arms down, yanked the succubi from the air, and crushed all the demons to the floor.

Both sides turned their hateful glares toward Azerick. “You succubi stop poaching kills from the balrogs. If you see them hunting in an area, leave them be. Balrogs, the succubi are free to hunt wherever they wish, as are all of you, as long as they do not prevent you from doing the same.”

“What of my wing!” the injured demon demanded. “He has ruined me!”

“You provoked him and it will grow back.”
It will grow back, right?
Azerick silently asked Klaraxis.

It will, but to be flightless for even a moment is torture for one such as they.

Azerick shrugged, unconcerned for the succubus’s plight. “Now get out of my hall.”

The injured succubus gave Azerick a hate-filled glare as she looked back and shuffled from the chamber, dripping black ichor from her ruined stump. Azerick practically collapsed upon the throne as he sat down. His use of power had exhausted him. There would be no more searching for a way out of this dismal place today.

You need to feed. If you will not devour the soul of one of the offerings locked below, at least consume a shade or draw from the power stored within my citadel.

Azerick knew of the humans who had been sent as offerings or who had foolishly come here of their own accord.  They were retched creatures and he would have nothing to do with them. They were all evil people or thoroughly insane, driven mad from their captivity and torture. Neither could he destroy a shade. Such an act would prove he was no longer human and truly a denizen of this realm. Azerick could not bring himself to let go of the remaining vestige of his humanity.

However, he could not ignore Klaraxis’ advice or his own hunger and ebbing strength. For centuries, the greater shades of this realm fed their energy into the stones of the massive fortress, turning them as black as their souls. The power was there for Klaraxis to draw upon for additional strength should he ever need to defend himself from an all-out attack from one of the lesser realm lords who desired to attain a loftier position. Three times in nearly two millennia, the demon lord had to defend himself from such an attack, and each time he had defeated his foes.

Azerick sought out the demonic source of power much as he did the Source and found it waiting for his call within the black stones of the mountainous ziggurat. Unlike the Source, the power here held traces of consciousness and it cried out as Azerick consumed it. As loathsome as those cries were, it fed him and fueled his weary body. He felt his strength revitalized, if only partially. It was sufficient to go on, and that was enough for Azerick.

“Well, I think I handled that rather well. Don’t you?” Azerick asked the Klaraxis.

Is that what you humans call a joke? You could hardly have performed worse. Your ineptness will surely destroy us both.

”You told me to make them stop and I did. I fail to see why you are still complaining. What would you have done?” Azerick asked.

I would have destroyed them all for daring to defile my hall. You gave them leave to act however they wished by not acting swiftly and decisively. You have shown weakness.

“You worry too much, Klaraxis. The issue is settled, and I have better things to do than to worry about the endless petty squabbles of demons.”

Probably not for long, foolish human.

***

Feh’lan, the mauled succubus mistress, finished consuming the hapless shade and felt the gruesome wound scab over, cutting off the flow of oozing, black ichor. Surrounded by her sisters within the massive, beehive-like mountain they called home, Feh’lan seethed with rage and thoughts of vengeance.

“Sisters, it is time we consider a change,” Feh’lan declared as she consumed the last wispy shadow of the shade.

“What kind of change, sister?” Shree’la, the second ranked succubus, asked.

“A change in leadership. Klaraxis is unfit for his position, and it is time for us to enact change.”

Feathered wings ruffled nervously. Such talk was treason and would result in a very painful death if discovered. “Feh’lan, Klaraxis has been lord of this realm for nearly two millennia. The only one who would even have a chance of supplanting him is Drak’kar, but even his power is a distant second to that of our master.”

Feh’lan smiled evilly, showing her two rows of needle-sharp teeth. “But Klaraxis is no longer in charge. We all know the human possessing his body has subverted him, yet another sign of his weakness. Did not any of you see him falter after striking us down?” Several of the succubi nodded. “Klaraxis is weak and no longer fit to rule. In his current state, I believe Drak’kar can easily destroy him. And we will help, for a price.”

“If Drak’kar fails…,” Shree’la began.

“Then we will all beg for death long before Klaraxis becomes bored enough to kill us, assuming he has any say in our fates whatsoever. Personally, I think the human is in complete control and lacks the stomach for such brutality. It is why our realm is in a shambles now. Even if my assertion proves wrong, is it not better than living upon the scraps of the ground-born?”

There was little debating as greed and frustration won out over potential torture and death. It took several more souls to repair Feh’lan’s injury enough for her to travel and, even then, her sisters had to carry her in a sling. For a succubus, or any flying creature, such humiliation only fired her fury and desire to see the human-infected Klaraxis cast down from his lofty perch as overlord of the Fifth Circle.

A dozen succubi made up the treasonous diplomatic party. It took what could be called days in this timeless dimension to reach the border. Endless miles of red rock passed below the demons in an otherwise sea of featureless terrain.  Eventually, twin spars of stone appeared far on the horizon. Distance was impossible to gauge for there was no curvature to the landscape in this world, only expansive flat plains of stone occasionally broken up by vast crevasses and spires of rock like the broken teeth of some enormous giant.

The first creatures to come into view were the colossal behemoths. The behemoths were practically mobile mountains. Standing thirty feet tall, the creatures formed the frontline of defense against any hostile demons opening the gate from the Fourth Circle. The behemoths created a massive, shaggy wall of muscle and claws that made even the largest sword look pathetic in both size and sharpness.

As the succubi drew nearer, the smaller demons took shape. Other succubi on gate duty provided almost constant aerial surveillance while balrogs, jikin, kamaris, and an army of other demonic forces provided the bulwark against the constant threat of invasion. This was not the only gate separating the two demonic realms, but its commander was the stupidest and most likely to let them pass. Nor was this the only way to cross between realms. Far out into the wastelands lay a few shadow crossings. These were uncontrolled, but they were chaotic and extremely dangerous to use. Its denizens recognized no allegiance and considered anything stepping into its shadowy demesne as food.

Feh’lan and her sisters landed near the base of one of the two conical mountains buttressing the gate as well as being the living quarters for those who guarded it. A tall and imposing figure strode out of the base of the tower and approached. Feh’lan had dealt with the kamaris demon before. Halphis was typical of his kind if slightly more impressive than average. His skin was red, twin spiraling horns jutted up and lightly forward from his long-faced head, and his muscular legs ended in cloven hooves. A long, barbed tail trailed several feet behind him, whipping back and forth like a cat ready to pounce.