Chapter 14 #3
She materialized by his side, her flesh blackened and smooth as jet, her eyes twin limpid pools of oil, her hair now pure shadowed black as it fell down her armored back.
A Shadow Handmaiden.
Oh, but she was powerful. He didn’t have time to examine her properly, but already the Well was pouring fell energies into her, augmenting her further, and she raised her black blade in salute as she fell in beside him, turning to face her former sisters.
“You dare?” Elixethera ceased her dance to glare at him, outraged, her lavender eyes bulging. “To our sister? You dare enslave…?”
As one, the other ten Handmaidens screamed in horror and rage, and charged.
Shadowpaw lunged from somewhere, from nowhere, and plowed into two of them, maw turned sideways to clamp on to a shoulder even as the Shadow Handmaiden laughed and flung herself into the oncoming tide.
Harald laughed and followed after.
It was a nightmare. It reminded him of nothing so much as being overwhelmed by the army of Terror Birds on the 21st Level, when all had descended into madness.
His mind was buffeted by countless psychic attacks, horns slashed and dug into his shadow-armored flesh, swinging the Scourge about frantically in an attempt to keep the worst of the attackers at bay, willing Imperium’s carnivorous clouds to manifest as pulse after pulse flooded out from him.
But he was saved as much by the Crown of the Abyssal Tyrant as his martial skills—wherever he turned his glare, wherever he placed his attention, Handmaidens hesitated, drew back, eyes widening at the force of his will.
Swords clashed, women screamed. But despite his best efforts, blow after blow landed on him, their edges dulled by his hardened shadow body, which strove time and time again to block and repel the wicked edges.
But he was one man against six or eight at a time, and the Handmaidens fought with seamless fluidity, laughing now as they pressed into him, enjoying themselves again as they knocked him from side to side. And then he felt his newly recruited Shadow Handmaiden disappear, her head clean shorn off.
Shadowpaw bayed.
Harald strove to keep to his feet. He felt no pain, only rising fury. He swung, connected with a hip, burst it open into chunks of black crystal, and more essence flooded into the Well.
The tide was turning against the demons.
They were toying with him, but that was taking a toll.
All the while, void motes were slashing them open, nausea and the Crown’s authority making them indecisive, off-balance, and slow.
With each passing moment, more of their strength flooded into Harald, and it was this unholy bond that now kept him on his feet, long after he should have crashed to his knees in exhaustion and weakness.
Something took out his foot from beneath him just as he stepped back, and Harald crashed to the turf. He went to roll but a blade punched into the grass just beside his face, so he reversed direction and a second did the same, pinning him in place.
Elixethera loomed above him, her face scored with razor cross-hatchings that leaked black blood. “Let me show you what you’ve been missing,” she hissed, and fell upon him full-long.
Harald tried to raise the Scourge but was too slow. The Handmaiden fell upon him like a lover, thrust her thigh between his own, plunged her taloned hands into his hair, and then skewered his soul.
His spine responded.
He felt his back wrench as his very bones sought to dislodge themselves and burst free of his flesh.
No pain.
Never any pain.
But the sensation of wrongness was terrifying.
Harald tried to throw Elixethera off, who was laughing now and leaning down to lick his cheek, but a third blade slid over his throat, trapping him in place.
Again, his spine undulated, and he felt his shadow body strain to maintain its integrity.
“What’s the matter, Harald?” one of the demons cried. “Not man enough for her?”
“Thrust back, big boy! Enjoy the moment!”
“It’ll be your last!”
Harald wrenched his mind back into a place of control, forced the fear and rage away, and went to summon Imperium about Elixethera when the world turned white.
A great dome of pure light flooded upward in a stream to curve overhead and arch back down, surrounding them all in holy radiance.
The demons screeched in horror and pain, and Elixethera reared back, one arm upflung to shield her eyes.
Harald scrambled to one side as healing energy played over his body in blue glimmers. It felt like a warm caress, a loving touch, and wounds and cuts and scrapes began to heal.
Sam’s Starlight Bastion.
Sam’s Warden’s Pulse.
Which meant—damn it!
Gratitude mingled with anger. They’d chosen to come back for him. They’d chosen to die with him. The warmth of Sam’s presence mingled with his refusal to let her be harmed.
But what could he do?
Harald scrambled to his feet as the Handmaidens drew back. There were only ten of them now—he’d killed one, and either Shadowpaw or the Shadow Handmaiden had killed another.
But several of them were badly wounded, mauled by teeth or slashed by a keen edge, or even nursing body parts that had been crystalized and brutalized by the Scourge.
And there—Sam approached, arm upraised, Nessa by her side. Both looked shaken, eyes wide as they stared at the demons who drew back from Sam’s holy energy, both clearly aware of how desperately outmatched they still were.
“Enough,” called Sam. “In the name of the Fallen Angel, I command you to leave this place or be extinguished.”
Sam’s Beacon of Hope buoyed Harald’s spirits, and he slowly fell back toward them, fighting to catch his breath, his steps a limp from his wrenched back.
“The angel-whore shows herself,” laughed Elixethera. “Good. We’ll not kill you but drag you back down to Eclavistra herself. Oh, she loves playing with innocents like you. She can make it last for weeks. Weeks that feel like years.”
“That’s where I know you from,” said Nessa, snapping her fingers. “You remind me of Sabatha. She thought the world of herself but could only charge a Copper Crescent from her customers. The johns said she just wouldn’t shut up.”
Elixethera’s lips carved themselves into a silent snarl. “Well then. I’ll personally take care of you.” Then she laughed. “Handmaidens? Enough playing. It’s time to get to work.”
She straightened and pointed at the trio with her whip. “Tear them apart.”