24 Punch Drunk
Punch Drunk
Vaelira heard only the thrum of blood in her ears and her ragged breath as she tore after the demon.
It was fast. Faster than any human. But Vaelira kept it in her sights, watching the way it glanced back at them every now and then, grinning.
Her essensia was a raging fire scalding her ribs, but she didn’t dare use it here. There were too many homes, too many ways things could go wrong if her aim was off, or worse, if she let the rage consume her again. Elijah ran up beside her. She felt him glance her way, but she kept her focus ahead.
“Where’s it going?” Willem called from behind.
“Chapel,” Erryn replied, her voice sharp with worry.
She was right, and Vaelira hadn’t noticed. She closed her eyes for a breath and forced the anger down. She needed to focus. Don’t let the rage win.
Sure enough, the demon reached the edge of the chapel square, crossing it at incredible speed before vaulting the steps in a single bound. It turned in front of the doors, smiling with teeth like tar, then it vanished inside, the heavy doors swinging wildly on their hinges.
Vaelira skidded to a stop beside Elijah. “He’s playing with us,” she said, breathless. “Like before.”
Elijah nodded. “He led us here on purpose.”
“We’re not going in, right?” Willem said warily. “It’s clearly a trap.”
“I second that,” Erryn said.
“You want to let a demon roam the city?” Vaelira said, struggling to hide her irritation.
“We should call the Guard.” Axel said. “Get reinforcements.”
“We’re already here. If someone’s in there—”
A scream cut through the night. Human.
Vaelira moved without thinking.
Elijah caught her arm. She tried to wrench free, but his grip was too strong. The scream came again, sharper this time, but he didn’t let go as his head whipped back to the chapel.
Vaelira took advantage of his distraction, yanking hard.
Breaking free, she sprinted up the steps, her heart hammering as she threw open the doors.
She stopped just past the threshold, the darkness inside swallowing her whole as she strained her eyes and the silence pressed in tight, broken only by footsteps of the others behind her.
Then she stepped forward, leading them down the central aisle.
The chapel was too quiet. No candles burned, the tall stained-glass windows standing black and blank against the night outside.
A shuffle sounded to their left. Erryn and Axel spun, putting their backs to the group.
Willem pivoted, knives raised. Figures stepped from the shadows.
They were cloaked and hooded, their hands clasped at their chest as if in reverent prayer.
There was at least a dozen, maybe more, slipping silently along the walls.
They began chanting, the words not in any language she knew, the twisted syllables slithering in her ears and rotting inside her head. The air turned metallic, sharp on her tongue, and she stiffened, her senses tugged in every direction.
“Relics,” Willem hissed.
Her pulse spiked. The figures closed in, cutting off their exit.
Vaelira’s fingers curled around her conduit as she summoned fire with barely a thought, flinging it at the nearest figure.
It struck him square in the chest, his panicked scream echoing raw and broken off the stone.
The flames surged up his robes, and for a moment, he was a beacon in the dark, a torch of flesh and fabric collapsing to the floor.
The stench of seared meat struck her like a slap, and she gagged, her eyes stinging.
Elijah shielded his face from the blaze, swearing under his breath.
A snarl split the air.
Vaelira whirled towards the sound. A creature crept from the gloom, its frame hunched, its claws scraping the stone. Drekal.
The chanting began to fade, overtaken by thudding steps, hissing breath, and bone-chilling snaps. Another demon crawled into view, scaled and low to the ground. Its barbed tail swung behind it, slicing the air like a whip.
A knife shot past her. It hit the demon’s shoulder and bounced off, clattering to the flagstones. The beast hissed, a forked tongue darting between jagged teeth.
Vaelira lifted her hand and summoned the fire again. The flames rolled across the demon’s armoured back. It flinched but didn’t slow.
It wasn’t enough.
The demon lunged, its tail sweeping low, and she jumped, barely clearing the ground as it sliced beneath her boots. Behind her, Willem cried out. She turned to find him on the ground, clutching his ankle. “I’m fine,” he grunted as he stood, his leg nearly buckling beneath him.
Vaelira ran to him and pressed her dagger into his hand. “Take it.”
“I said I’m fine.”
She ignited her other palm, letting the flame engulf her hand. Willem met her gaze and nodded, taking the blade.
The demon charged again. Vaelira stepped forward to meet it, channelling her essensia into the conduit.
She could feel it building, swelling inside the stone.
She threw her arm forward and a thin beam shot from the amethyst and sliced clean through the demon’s neck.
Its body slumped, twitched once, then stilled.
Behind her, Elijah was locked in combat with another Drekal.
The first was already a pile of ash at his feet.
Erryn fought beside the pews, her sword arcing high.
A black tentacle lashed at her, and she ducked low, sidestepping before driving her blade down hard.
The severed limb flopped to the floor, writhing. Vaelira scorched it.
Her heart lurched as her eyes found Axel. He had been separated from the group and blood streaked his arm as he battled two tall, humanoid demons.
Panic rose but she swallowed it down and ran.
She inhaled sharply and closed her eyes, holding the flame in one hand, light in the other.
The power surged through her, fierce and demanding.
“Get down!” she shouted. She raised both arms and a torrent of fire burst from her left hand, a searing beam of light slicing from her right.
Stone cracked, pews turned to ash, and demons shrieked. One leapt for her and disintegrated mid-air. Her temples throbbed. The world spun.
She turned. Again. Again. Spinning like the girl in the pink dress.
Keep going, the essensia whispered. Burn them all.
Her legs shook, but still she turned. The ground groaned beneath her, but still she turned.
A hand grabbed her ankle. She staggered, the flames sputtering as she looked down. Elijah’s face was pale, streaked with soot. “Stop!” he pleaded.
Smoke stung her eyes. She blinked, wiping her sleeve across her face. The chapel came into view. Bodies lay everywhere, demon and summoner alike. Pews smouldered. Piles of ash littered the ground.
“We have to go!” Elijah shouted. “The whole place is coming down!”
As if in confirmation, the stone shuddered once more. Cracks spidered along the walls.
She had done this. She’d killed them.
They deserved it.
There was a flicker of movement, a figure crouching behind the shattered altar, clutching a relic to his chest. They locked eyes, but he didn’t flee.
Vaelira ran, slamming into him so hard that the relic clattered away and out of reach. His hood fell back to reveal green eyes rimmed in dark shadow and a smile so pure it was as if he was seeing the sun for the first time.
“You are more than we hoped,” he whispered. He coughed, thick black liquid leaking from his mouth. Then he went still, his face fixed in a smile.
A crack came from above.
Elijah yanked her back.
A chunk of ceiling broke loose and shattered to the ground, crushing the summoner beneath it.
“Vaelira!” Elijah shouted, shaking her. “Now!”
They ran, stone raining down around them, heart banging wildly against her ribs.
She hit the door as Elijah crashed into her, wrapping his arms around her and twisting mid-air to take the brunt of the fall.
They landed hard on the steps outside, rolling apart.
Her head struck stone, and she landed on her back, coughing and blinking up at the stars.
Axel and Willem hauled her to her feet. They ran, ducking into a side street as the chapel let out one final, echoing boom. The roof gave way in a thunderous crash, collapsing inward, rubble skittering across the courtyard.
Screams wailed somewhere in the distance.
Vaelira’s vision blurred. She sucked in a ragged breath, squeezing her eyes shut against the sting of tears.
When she opened them again, Axel and Willem were lowering her to the ground, propping her against a wall.
Erryn appeared moments later, dragging Elijah by the arm.
Vaelira looked between them all. Their clothes were torn, their skin streaked with cuts.
Axel’s sleeve was soaked with blood. Willem sat opposite her, peeling off his boot to inspect the damage to his ankle.
One side of Elijah’s face was blackened, and a chunk of Erryn’s hair had been scorched clean away.
Vaelira looked down at her hands. Her palms were unblemished, only dust coating the skin. She had done this. It was her fault.
“We need to move,” Axel said, glancing towards Elijah.
Elijah nodded, rolling his shoulder with a wince.
Axel turned to Willem. “Can you walk?”
“I don’t think so,” Willem said. “I was running on pure adrenaline before, but now…” He trailed off, grimacing as he eased the boot back on. Axel bent and hoisted him up, looping an arm beneath Willem’s shoulders. They started down the street together, Willem limping awkwardly with Axel’s support.
Erryn gave Vaelira a long, hard look before following the others.
Elijah stepped forward and offered a hand.
The world slanted as she got to her feet.
“Come on,” he muttered, lifting her into his arms like an infant.
She tried to push him away, but her limbs were too heavy, and her eyes drifted shut before she could utter a word of protest.
Back at the townhouse, Vaelira slumped forward on the kitchen table, her head resting against her outstretched arm. Her skull pounded, her stomach churned and her vision faded in and out of focus.