The Sorcerer's Vengeance: Book 4 of the Sorcerer's Path (29 page)

Skulk turned back towards Azerick who had just raised his fist to pound on the massive door. “Hey, try not to bleed so much! Skulk gots better things to do than clean up stupid human blood because he gotta bleed so much!”

Azerick watched the strange, bitter little demon fly away, bobbing down the hall, continually muttering his complaints about his lot in life. He took a deep breath and pounded on the door, making little more than soft dull thuds against the impossibly thick wood.

To Azerick’s surprise, they swung easily inward to allow him admittance to the huge throne room beyond. Azerick strode purposely down the wide, red carpet that ran from the doors to the foot of a tall dais. Twenty feet up sat a throne made from the bones of various creatures, and upon the throne was an enormous black demon with blood-red eyes, horns, and claws.

It had to be at least ten feet tall not counting its long, red horns that thrust up and forward from its huge head. Its facial features were largely human, notwithstanding the horns though the nose looked more ape-like than human. Huge bat-like wings were folded tightly against his body and draped over the backless throne of skulls and bones.

“Ah, my honored guest has finally arrived. I am Klaraxis, demon prince of the fifth circle of hell. I am master of all you see around you,” the demon told Azerick imperially, making a sweeping gesture with one of his powerful, ebony arms.

Azerick looked about the enormous but largely empty chamber then back at the demon sitting on his gruesome throne. “You mean the carpet?”

“No, not the carpet, you simpleton!” Klaraxis leapt from his throne and shouted.

“You don’t own the carpet? How can you claim to be the master of anything if you do not even own the carpet?”

“I am master of
everything
within the fifth circle! Every demon, every stone, the air you think you are breathing all belongs to me! The lesser masters of the lower circles show me deference as their better! I am—ah, you are being clever,” Klaraxis said with a smile and sat back down. “I despise cleverness in my subordinates,” he said with a growl. “You have proven yourself to be a worthy vessel to house my spirit and transport me back to the material world. I was especially impressed with how you dealt with the mantar’ri demons; quite entertaining,” the demon told Azerick in a deep and powerful voice.

“I hate to disappoint you, demon, but I am not here to be anyone’s
vessel
. Tell me how to return to my home and I will leave you in peace,” Azerick said dispassionately.

“There is no way home for you, little human. This is your home now you had best get accustomed to it.”

“You will find me a rather bitter and troublesome houseguest and highly resistant to any plans you may have for me. You had best get accustomed to that,” Azerick returned defiantly.

Azerick sent his concentrated, electrical beam at the seated demon prince without warning, but Klaraxis simply deflected the spell with a flick of his wrist, sending it to strike the distant wall where it burned a deep hole into the black stone. Obsidian ooze slowly slithered down the black surface and a faint screeching reached Azerick’s ears as if the stone cried out in pain.

“Really, not only are such attacks rude, they are quite futile. Come, allow me to show you something that may interest you,” the demon lord invited amicably, stood to his full, imposing height and descended the steps of the dais to tower over the much smaller sorcerer.

With little other choice, Azerick followed Klaraxis through a doorway that was more than large enough to allow the enormous demon to pass through without fear of even coming close to scraping the wing joints that peaked over his shoulders and head. They descended a long flight of stairs and stopped before an ornate door that looked to be made of solid bronze.

The door swung open at a touch from the demon and Azerick followed him into a room that looked much like Azerick’s own vault chamber.

“Here is where I keep all of my most precious artifacts. Since you will be residing as a shade here for, oh, about an eternity, I thought you might like to amuse yourself by looking at them and studying them. Of course as a shade you will not be able to interact with them, but I think it is a fair trade in exchange for what you are giving me. Would you not agree? No? Well I suppose I might feel I was getting the short end of the deal if I were in your place, but since I am not I feel quite good about it,” Klaraxis chuckled.

The demon began pointing out some of the more significant artifacts in the room, where he had gotten them, and whom he had to kill to get them. He pointed to a black-bladed shortsword that hung on the wall.

“This is by far my most prized possession,” Klaraxis told Azerick. “With that sword I can trap the soul of any creature, even a god. I hope to put it to use one day, preferably against that damnable Solarian.”

He retrieved a clear glass or crystal sphere from a velvet-padded box sitting on a shelf.

“I suppose it is time for the show to come to an end,” the demon said as heavy black chains suddenly erupted from the wall and wrapped themselves around Azerick’s wrists and ankles.

Azerick backed away as the demon walked towards him until his back struck the wall a couple feet behind him. He knew he was only going to have one chance at what he planned, so he waited until Klaraxis stood just before him and pressed the crystal orb lightly against his forehead.

Azerick reached out with his power, using a spell similar to the one that he had used to hurl the stones at the cambion, but this time he pulled rather than pushed. Since the distance between him and the object was greater it took more effort to achieve the effect, but the sinister black shortsword suddenly flew from the wall and into his outstretched palm. Azerick thrust the blade forward without hesitating. The demon’s eyes widened in surprise as the blade sunk deep into his bare flesh just above where a human, or most any another creature born of a mother, would have had a naval.

Azerick felt a burning in his hand and tried to drop the sword but his fingers would not release their grip. Either that or the sword would not release his hand. The sorcerer felt an evil intelligence emanating from the blade and held his body immobile. Klaraxis’s knees finally bent and he fell kneeling onto the floor in front of Azerick, still looming over him when the room filled with a deep, gratified laugh. The demon prince toppled to the side but the laughter continued and it took several moments before Azerick realized it was coming from his own mouth.

He tried to scream but could only continue laughing as he felt himself being forced from his own body. Blackness once again overcame him as he could no longer see out of his own eyes.

Klaraxis looked at his fallen body through his new eyes as the chains uncoiled from around his wrists and ankles. Far above on another plain, five wizards watched as the five braziers’ flared black flames for several seconds before returning to their normal orange glow.

CHAPTER
15

Joshua paced the long, gloomy hall outside the summoning room just in case his mistress needed him to perform some task. His conscience warred with his inability to do anything regardless of how he felt about the situation. He heard the sorcerer shriek a long and frightful scream but he had heard nothing more for many minutes now. Not even the droning chant of the archmages slipped under the crack of the thick door.

Unable to stand it any longer, he stalked down the hall and into the library where he saw Aggie behind her desk as usual though looking a bit fretful.

“Ah, Jonathan, I’m glad you stopped by,” the senile old librarian said as he walked into the room.

“It’s Joshua, Aggie,” the apprentice reminded her as he had so many times.

It was funny how she would always get his name wrong but could tell you where every book was within the library and what it contained.

“Joshua Aggie! Why you have the same last name as my first name,” she cackled.

“No, Aggie, it’s just Joshua.”

“Well, whatever you want to call yourself, I am glad you’re here. I seem to have lost the key to my desk drawer and I could use a good spell caster to get it open for me. I used to know a nice little spell that would do the trick but I’ve forgotten it over the years.”

“I’m sorry, Agatha, but I don’t have that one prepared at the moment,” Joshua informed her.

Aggie waves a gnarly old hand dismissively. “No need to fret, this is a library for heaven’s sake,” she said and began sifting through sheets of velum and paper scattered across her desktop. “I have a scroll around here that should do the trick.”

She picked up one of the scrolls and pressed it nearly against her nose before shoving in Joshua’s face. “What does this one say at the top?”

Joshua told her and she waved her hand once more as if she were shooing away a fly. “No, no, that one would unlock everything from shackles to a dimensional portal. This is just a desk, not a wizard’s ward,” she dismissed and began picking through the scrolls once more. “Ah, I think this is the one! Tell me what this one says.”

Joshua took the scroll from her and read its title.

“That’s the one! Be a dear and use it to unlock my desk for me,” Agatha asked.

Joshua read the scroll, its scribbled runes flaring away to nothingness as he recited the magical words. He was familiar with this particular spell and had no trouble using the scroll to unlock the desk drawer. He heard the click of the locking mechanism release the instant he read the last word on the scroll.

The old librarian opened her desk drawer with a little shout of triumph. “Well there’s my key, right in the drawer. Now how did I manage to lock that in there without having the key?” she asked herself distractedly. “Oh well, such mysteries can wait to be solved until after my lunch,” she said as she pulled out a large salami and cheese sandwich and took a full bite.

“You want a taste?” she offered Joshua, pointing the end of her sandwich at him.

“No thanks, Aggie,” he replied and walked out of the door.

Joshua resumed his pacing glancing down at the scroll he still held in his hand every few steps.

***

“Skunk!” Klaraxis shouted. “Skunk, get your worthless hide down here, do you hear me?”

“Of course I hear you, everybody between here and the third circle of the abyss can hear you,” Skulk muttered as he flew down the stairs and through the hall. “Skulk would have to be deaf not to hear you. Hm, not a bad idea. Maybe Skulk can jab his eardrums out so he does not have to listen to big-mouthed, cow-headed demon lord.”

Skulk fluttered through the huge bronze door that still stood open. “Yes, oh magnificent lord of the under—balls of fire he’s dead! Puny human done killed da big horn-headed blattazuu’s rump! Oh joyous days, Skulk’s dreams have come true!” Skulk cried joyously and began dancing a jig on the demon lord’s chest.

“Skunk, get off my chest,” Klaraxis told the demog who was busy shaking his posterior in the face of the demon prince’s body, making flatulent noises with his tongue.

Skulk bit off his raspberries with a squeak and looked at the sorcerer with his black tongue sticking out between his pressed lips. Skulk looked between the human and the seemingly dead Klaraxis, which he was still squatting over, in confusion. The demog flapped up and peered intently into each of Azerick’s eyes then rapped on his forehead with his knuckles.

“You in there, oh prince of darkness whom Skulk serves with utmost loya—ack!” Skulk’s words were quickly cut off by Klaraxis’s new hand being wrapped around his scrawny throat.

“I should tear your wings off, followed by your arms, legs, and finally your brainless little head for that display,” Klaraxis threatened with a low growl. “But I have a more important use for you. First, you will go and summon two of my tar’raun’atu to heft my body onto that stone slab. Then you will be responsible for ensuring that no one disturbs me or my possessions for the next one hundred years while I bring about a reign of torture and misery for the feeble inhabitants of the mortal world.”

“Yes, great demon lord. Prince Klaraxis is wise to know that Skulk is his most loyal and adoring subject with which to trust such an important honor,” Skulk croaked past the demon prince’s crushing grasp.

“Trust?” Klaraxis laughed. “Hardly, you little dung pile with wings. I know that you are to much a coward and too feeble to attempt to destroy my body and usurp my throne while I am away.”

“Dat too, your benevolent wickedness.”

“Now go get my porters to lift me off this floor,” Klaraxis commanded and slung Skulk through the doorway to smack heavily into the wall before he could arrest his uncontrolled flight.

“Stupid, pasty-faced, human skin-wearing, demon squatter. Bad enough he think Skulk is scouring maid, stupid human think Skulk is doorman, now he supposed to be some kind’a mortician to take care of his stinkin’ body. He thinks he can just throw Skulk against da wall like he is stupid little puppy, and den I’m supposed ta just sit around and watch his stinkin’ corpse collect dust? Just you wait, Skulk gonna get his revenge, make him regret ever throwing Skulk around.”

Skulk returned with the two hulking tar’raun’atu. The tar’raun’atu were massively muscled, wingless demons who were nearly as wide as their eight-foot frames were tall. They had long ringed horns like a gazelle jutting slightly backwards from their bristly, black-haired heads. Their ridiculously muscled arms were so long that their knuckles literally dragged the ground. Their enormous strength was only equaled by their stupidity.

“Pick up my body and lay it
gently
upon the slab,” Klaraxis instructed the two brutes.

If the demonic duo was surprised to find the body of their prince lying seemingly dead upon the floor with his voice coming out of the mouth of a human they gave no sign of it. They simply bent down and lifted the thousand plus pound demon prince up as if he were a sleeping child and placed him on the black stone table as they were instructed.

“Face up, you imbeciles!” Klaraxis growled irritably.