Darklands

“That’s the plan. I killed the Destroyer once before. Lord Arawn believes I can do it again, so he loaned me his sword.” When Difethwr arrived, I’d have to wield Darkblaze left-handed. My demon-marked arm refused to raise itself against the Hellion. But I’d trained myself to fight with either hand.

Edern searched the Darklands through his spyglass. When he lowered it, he looked as though he’d come to some decision. “I will help you,” he said. “My own sword, Demonsbane, has dispatched a Hellion or two in its time.” He patted the hilt. “Never one as powerful as the Destroyer, of course, but we’ll give that demon some trouble so you can move in for the kill.”

I tilted my head, skeptical. “For what price? Don’t even think about asking for Darkblaze. It’s not mine to give.”

“Dark—?” Edern threw back his head and roared with laughter. “I see you’re catching on to our ways. We do like to bargain here.” He chuckled. “But it would never occur to me to bargain for Lord Arawn’s own sword. What a notion. No, Lady Victory, I ask no price beyond our original agreement. I wish only to help.” He placed a hand over his heart and bowed his head.

“Thank you.” I bowed in return, then glanced to the right. “I want to check the north side, to see whether any demons are massing in Uffern.” Hellions have a way of knowing when trouble is brewing. Disasters attract them like a rose garden attracts bees. Difethwr would be hard enough to deal with; we didn’t need demonic reinforcements.

Edern nodded. “I’ll keep watch here.”

I turned to Kane. “Want to take a peek at Hell?”

“Not particularly.” He looked down at his white tunic and leggings, so different from the expensive suits he normally wore. “But I think I’ve already proved I’ll follow you anywhere.”

Together we crossed to the northern border. Kane held my hand, but I pulled away, folding my arms across my stomach. Too much of the warm fuzzies would dim the signal I was sending to Difethwr. And every minute that the Destroyer wasn’t here was a minute of destruction in the Darklands.

At the wall, we looked into Uffern. The air there was dim and dirty, thick with smoke from fires that blackened the landscape. Even the lakes burned. The ground was scarred and pitted. Everything was dead. Even at this distance, you couldn’t avoid the stench of sulfur and brimstone on the scorched wind.

This was how I’d seen the Darklands earlier—a ruined land of pain and death and desolation. This was what the Destroyer would do to every place it passed through, everything it touched.

In the distance, two or three demons flew with batlike wings. But no Hellions gathered below the mountains.

“Ugh,” said Kane. “Scratch Uffern from our list of vacation spots.” He glanced at me, but I couldn’t smile.

“Fine with me.” We went back to stand beside Edern.

“There’s some smoke in the distance, but it reaches across the horizon,” he said, handing me the spyglass. “I can’t pinpoint the Destroyer’s location.”

I looked through the spyglass. Hazy smoke stretched along the horizon. So much destruction. My demon mark flared, excited, but the rest of me felt sick.

A blur of white sailed through the circle of my vision. I adjusted the spyglass to focus on the falcon that soared over Hellsmoor. It felt strange to observe the beautiful bird from above. Suddenly, it folded its wings and dived. I followed it with the spyglass. A jet of water plumed, and the falcon rose again, wings flapping. A snake twisted in its talons. The falcon gained altitude, carrying its prey back to its nest.

A good hunter. And one that could go where others could not. No wonder the Night Hag wanted the falcon. She’d have a blast watching it dive-bomb the souls she chased.

The nest was on a ledge that jutted out from the sheer rock face, far below where I stood now. It was inaccessible, unless…“I don’t suppose your magic escalator has an exit at the falcon’s nest.”

Eyebrows raised, Edern shook his head.

I set the spyglass on the wall. The white falcon was a distraction—one that let me avoid what I was almost afraid to do. Difethwr’s approach was too slow. I had to strengthen my call.

The Hellion was coming. I could see the smoke in the distance. Even more, though, I could feel it. The heat from my demon mark spread up my arm. Instead of trying to hold the feeling back, I let it grow. I opened my heart to anger, to rage, to the blind urge to destroy. The fiery feeling burning through me—agonizing, like my soul was on fire, blazing inside and out.

“Over there!” Edern said.

I scanned the horizon. To the right, a column of smoke rose, denser and thicker than the general haze. It was red at the bottom, lit by flames, and sooty black at the top. “It’s the Destroyer,” I said. “Give me some room—I’m going to reel it in.”

Edern clapped my shoulder, then moved away. Kane stood in front of me, a warm glow lighting his eyes. “I know this isn’t the time or the place, but the hell with all that.” He pulled me to him, folding me in his arms and pressing his mouth against mine. For a moment, my demon mark fought him, urging me to pull away. Then I thought “the hell with it,” too. I kissed him back, drinking in his strength, his goodness and loyalty—things I’d need if I was going to survive this encounter.

“I love you,” he said. “Whatever happens, remember that.”

“I…” My feelings tangled in a jumble of confusion. The anger I’d called up wanted to take over, claiming me, obliterating all other emotions and burning them to ashes. But somewhere inside me, the other feelings hung on. Loyalty, honor, the desire to do what’s right…and love? Could a fragile thing like love survive the Destroyer’s wrath?

“Shh.” He touched a finger to my lips. “It’s all right. You don’t have to say anything.” He kissed my forehead, a gesture so tender that tears welled in my eyes. Then he moved away.

I blinked rapidly and wiped my face. My heart thumped as I watched him go. I let myself feel its rapid beating. Then I turned back to the job I had to do.

The column of smoke had veered farther right. I rolled up my sleeve, exposing my demon mark, and focused my full attention on the Destroyer. I dropped all defenses I held against the Hellion. No pushing down, no holding back. I threw away thoughts of Kane and love and anything else I’d ever cared about. I craved only destruction. Only pain, burning, rubble. An explosion rocked Hellsmoor. My arm exploded, too. That’s what it felt like as hellfire erupted from the demon mark.

I held up my arm like a beacon, a demonic Statue of Liberty lighting the way for utter destruction.

The Hellion roared in response. It was too far away to hear, but I heard it anyway. The sound reverberated inside my head. It shook me down to my toes.

The hellfire spouting from my arm burned brighter.

Something tore itself from my gut and fell at my feet.

“Whoa, it’s ugly in there.” That damn Eidolon. “Hey, how come I can’t fly?” Its black wings fluttered, but the demon stayed on the ground.

Stupid annoyance. I don’t know why I hadn’t killed it before. But now I had bronze. I pulled a throwing knife and hurtled it at the Eidolon.

It jumped away a nanosecond before the knife struck the dirt.

I stomped my foot—once, again, again—trying to squash it like the bug it was. Damn, it was fast. It took off running for the north wall, all six of its legs flashing.

I checked Difethwr’s progress. The Hellion had veered off course again. I didn’t have time to mess around with Butterfly.

I scooped up my knife and returned it to its sheath. “Edern!” I called. “There’s a demon trying to go over the north wall!” I returned to my station and raised my arm, renewing my call to Difethwr.

“Where? I don’t— Wait, you mean that insect?”

“It’s not an insect; it’s an Eidolon.”

“Oh. Well, it’s scurried back to Uffern now. Too small for much of a reward, anyway.”

Damn thing didn’t even say good-bye.

I turned back to Hellsmoor. The Destroyer was coming fast now. I snatched up the spyglass. There. I could see it now: the warty blue skin, shimmering with hellfire, and the dull glow of the flames behind its eyes. Pryce no longer hung from its chest. He ran behind it, stumbling, like he was being dragged along. He’d bound himself to the Hellion, physically and spiritually. As the Hellion moved, so did he.

Difethwr rushed through the swamp, leaping from one hummock of grass to the next. Wherever it stepped, the grass withered or the water boiled. A fish hurtled from the water. Flames shot from the Hellion’s eyes and blasted it to ashes.

I didn’t see the white falcon. I hoped Difethwr wouldn’t, either. The demon was barbecuing anything that moved.

At the foot of the cliff, the Hellion didn’t pause. It sprang into the air, caught a handhold, and—moving incredibly fast—began climbing straight up. Pryce clung to its back like a baby monkey.

I stepped back. I tried to extinguish the flame that spurted from my demon mark, but it wouldn’t go out. I shook my arm, I spat on it. I tried to break my connection to the Destroyer. Nothing worked. The demon mark burned like a welder’s torch.

And then my right arm fell to my side, as useless as a burning log hanging from my shoulder. Difethwr was almost here.

I drew Darkblaze with my left hand and stood ready, trembling with eagerness for this fight.

With a whoosh and a roar, the sword burst into shadowy flame.

Difethwr leapt over the wall, dragging Pryce behind.

Now. I raised Darkblaze.

With a will of its own, my right arm came to life, clamping its hand around my left wrist and forcing the sword down-ward.

I looked down in confusion. My right hand grasped my left, holding it firmly against my thigh. I tried to make my right-hand fingers let go. I couldn’t move them. I twisted, yanking with my left arm, but I couldn’t get loose. Darkblaze pointed futilely at the ground. It wasn’t just that my demon-marked arm wouldn’t fight. It was worse. This new, stronger version of the Destroyer had control of that arm.