16 #2
Demons were beginning to seep from Evernight, sliding down the vast embankment or leaping from its walls. They raced toward us, shrieking murderous screams. Hundreds of demons.
No. Thousands.
And the Nocturne slowly began to widen, welcoming them all.
The blood drained from my face. There were so many demons that the ground quaked.
Demons of all shapes, sizes, and compositions; demons that walked, ran, flew, crawled.
Demons that looked like salivating beasts.
Demons that looked like half-rotten skeletons.
Demons that looked vaguely human but in all the wrong ways.
Some bore weapons, makeshift blades and axes.
Others were prepared to fight using just their claws and teeth.
It was difficult to see certain demons beyond Somnus’s army of legionnaires, as many appeared no larger than wolves or small cows.
Other demons were the size of houses, shoulders so wide that they had to worm their way through the onslaught.
None felt like Corrupt dreamers; they were all demons, through and through.
But there was one unifying feature that the demons shared, and it made me want to scream.
They all had red smoking eyes.
A cold, slithering presence crept up my spine, settling at the base of my neck as it whispered in my ears.
“Leave these maggots to their graves,” the voice demanded, making me shiver even as I recoiled in utter disgust. “Come join me. Come rule with me.”
I tried to shove the voice out, but it wouldn’t budge. It was a cold, invisible band around my neck, eager to see me squirm.
“If you would prefer to see the carnage yourself before taking my hand, you need only say so,” the voice cackled. “Fly higher, dreamer. The view is better from above.”
It was strikingly clear to me now how closely the voice resembled a fusion of Mithras and Raelion.
It was as though they were both one being, clawing at my shoulders and hissing in my ears.
If I had told the Weavers the truth, they wouldn’t have believed me.
But soon they would see it for themselves: Mithras in Evernight, lounging in one of its rooms like a twisted king while Raelion lurked nearby.
I was prepared for both of them to die, even if the Weavers weren’t.
Somnus’s legionnaires met the first wave of demons in a brutal clash.
Somnus gave me a quick meaningful look before diving in himself, sword raised high and magic swirling.
Soon, he’d fly above the Nocturne, forming a circle around Evernight with the other Weavers as they commanded the waves to consume the demons whole.
I flew above the carnage in the corridor, closely followed by my group of legionnaires.
We helped where we could, using our shadows to sweep over the onslaught and weaken some of the greatest demons, but they weren’t our aim.
Our focus was above.
We banked hard and fast, dodging demons as they clawed for our legs. Somnus’s webs kept the winged demons at bay, ensnaring them in thick silvery strands. A few members of the Shadow Legion were beginning to falter, distracted by the battle below, but I urged them on.
“Eyes up!” I shouted. “We’re nearly there!”
If I could help it, I wouldn’t let a single dreamer die.
“If you submit to me, you can save them all,” whispered the voice. “They are maggots, but if you prefer them wriggling at your feet instead of in the dirt, I will oblige.”
One dreamer is worth more than a million of you, I thought back angrily.
But instead of growing furious at my impudence, the voice merely let out a mocking huff of air.
“How wrong you are. But I will forgive your narrow-mindedness because you do not yet see. And because you have given me a great gift today.” The voice raked my spine with jagged claws. “One that you cannot take back even if you choose to do so.”
Enraged, I urged a blast of shadow toward the citadel.
To my relief, the shadows did what they were instructed to do; the darkness surrounding the walls began to dissipate, revealing more of the diseased structure in all its rotten glory.
I could see demons on all sides of the citadel now, dropping into the seven channels with fiendish roars.
The demons were eager for blood, eager for us.
If only they knew they were about to be destroyed.
The rest of the Shadow Legion rose from each of the channels, already using their magic to draw more of the darkness away from the citadel.
Ceveon was to the left, poised above Fenrir’s legion, and Sorren held the right, flying above Xander’s.
The darkness amplified our shadows, our collective power soon becoming a storm that rivaled Evernight’s.
Come on, Raelion. Show yourself.
I peered through the remaining darkness, trying to catch sight of Mithras, but he was nowhere to be seen.
It was clear we had the upper hand; he hadn’t planned for us to move as quickly and as powerfully as we did.
Perhaps he’d fully expected me to heed his command and stay away.
Let him gather an army here and attack us in the dark. But I’d had enough of his commands.
His apparent betrayal.