Chapter 385: Roiling Chaos

It overwhelmed his senses.

His ears rang and his skin crawled. White light flared in his vision. The scent of ash clung to his nostrils, the taste of it filled his mouth. Nausea boiled as his mind reeled.

‘What is this?’

‘Focus!’ The young wizard’s thoughts were scattered, frantic. ‘Get your mind back! Control your senses—’

A terrible screech erupted behind him.

Alex whirled unsteadily, finding legions of monsters pouring from the blinding white, each a living nightmare. His heartbeat galloped, sounding like it was doubling with every breath, and a supernatural fear clawed at the inside of his skull like a monster was inside.

And it wanted out.

‘Focus!’ his thoughts screamed. ‘Focus! It’s in your mind, it’s an attack on your mind! Fight it, whatever it is, fight! You fight the Mark, you can fight this! Focus! Let it pass!’

Desperately, he turned to his meditation techniques, letting them steady his mind so the magic would pass. But it clung, clouding reason, tugging at his will, determined to steal his sanity.

He called on the meditation techniques, sinking deeper into them.

Alex felt his breathing slow.

‘It's like using the cleansing movements or the Mark. It’ll pass. Let it pass. Let it pa—’

Suddenly, he was back.

The disruption to his senses, the shrieks, nausea, smell of ash, the hideous monsters all vanished, leaving him floating face down in the swamp. Only Orb of Air saved him from drowning.

“By the Traveller, what in all hells was that?” He groaned, shaking away the fogginess in his head. A few deep breaths later, he was flying high above the battle.

His vision cleared.

His hearing slowly returned.

“Alex! Alex!” Theresa was screaming his name.

She was desperately trying to reach him, but the demon caged her with blurred strikes from that awful war-spear.

Neither seemed to notice he was recovering.

“We’re not done, you and I, unlike him,” the demon said. “You’ll have plenty of time to go to…your…whatever he is. Her eyes flashed. “Does that screaming of yours mean you two have a connection? Perhaps, he’s what you mortals call a lover? Your scream wasn’t quite a, you killed my father or brother or what not’ scream, so I’m guessing lover?”

The demon thought things over while casually deflecting attacks from the huntress, the Chosen and two witches’ trees at the same time. Alex’s face fell, realising she was now surrounded by the ruins of the other trees. She’d destroyed the rest of them.

How long was he out?

“How quaint, and I must add, overly confining. You could learn something from me. Why limit yourself to one when a dozen is so much sweeter?” She grinned.

“Anyway, it doesn’t really matter who he is, after I’m through, you can all have a little get together in death—”

“Will you bloody shut up!” Cedric stabbed the demon deep in her side again.

Her growl of pain sounded like she was chewing stone as she smashed him into the water with a single stroke of her spear’s haft.

“I could say the same to you. You’re shockingly resilient.”

Her full attention now turned to Theresa, Alex sent a mental call to his golem.

‘Claygon, help Theresa or that thing’ll kill her!’ He directed another pair of Wizard’s Hands at the demon’s face.

The spells hovered before her eyes, then flared.

“What is this?”

Theresa whooped, relieved at the sight of Alex’s spells and slashed the leader’s ear. She jumped back, hissing hard, ugly words in a demon tongue as Claygon came for her from above.

Two quick blows struck the sides of her head, snapping her neck sideways. She stumbled, taking blows from the last two trees and then—

Cedric was there.

—the Chosen burst from the water, his spear stabbing deep into her back.

He must’ve hit something important, because the scream that ripped the swamp was deafening. She raised the war-spear, looking for her next target. Theresa and Cedric dove away, and Alex pulled Claygon and his spells back.

“You’re alright!” Theresa cried.

“We’ll see how long that lasts! She’s wrecking us, and there’s no way she’ll let us just go!” He dug into his bag. “Here Cedric, have a flight potion!” He whipped the potion at the Chosen.

“Thanks, mate! Good ta see ya back in the fight!”

“Look!” Theresa was pointing past Alex.

Desperate hope sprang in his chest.

While they’d been fighting the demon leader, her army had continued to retreat, but some had run head-on into witches of Crymlyn and their hidden traps, and deadly magics. Traps and spells had thinned enemy numbers, but hadn’t killed the fight in the remaining ones, they were fighting back. Hard.

Witches were dragging their wounded and dead within tree cover, and between some of those tree trunks, Alex spotted Baelin’s boat with Brutus on board, jumping and pacing frantically. One head snapped at the water where demons were swimming past the boat, heading for their camp, while another looked straight up, growling at cultists speeding away…and that’s where Alex spotted what Theresa was pointing to.

In a backdrop of magical explosions, the Sage and Champion battled monsters through the clouds. Lightning flashed, flame flared, and Alex’s hope grew.

He said a silent prayer to the Traveller. ‘Please let them get here soon.’

‘If we combine Hart’s speed and power with everyone else’s skills; and if Drestra hits the army, we should be able to overwhelm this demon. Things could turn in our favour.’

Alex looked back at their enemy.

There was one glaring problem with that plan., though.

Whoosh!

With a sweep of her war-spear, she cut down an animated tree like a blade of grass, then brought her weapon into guard position.

The leader smiled, a smile that both threatened yet managed to look amused. ‘We have to stay alive long enough for them to get here,’ he thought, pulling out every booby-trapped potion he had.

“Well done, little mortals! You wounded me!” she said, stretching lazily. Wounds in the dozens—some shallow and some deep—marked her body, but her eyes twinkled like she was enjoying a game of fetch with a beloved pet. “I have to give it to you mortals, few have made me bleed so deeply. I suppose congratulations are in order!”

The last tree lurched toward her, but she parried its club without looking at it. A chilling sensation crawled along Alex’s spine.

“Alright, back to it then—”

“Wait!” Alex forced a smile, his hand shot up. “I suppose I’ve got to congratulate you too. I’ve never seen an opponent able to push all of us so hard before.”

He kept his voice respectful, confident and resonating, like a knight of legend acknowledging the honour of their rival. Cedric looked at him like he’d lost his mind, but Theresa’s eyes were moving back and forth between him and the demon, calculating.

‘That’s right,’ Alex thought. ‘Don’t make any sudden movements. Just buy some time and get us some breathing room.’

“Really?” she said. “A fine compliment from great, adorable little mortal warriors such as you!”

“Adorable?” Cedric turned on her, clearly aggravated.

“Of course you mortals are!” she continued, throwing her head back with laughter. “Always running, running, running through your little, short lives, in your little, short bodies, always up to this or that. Think of it this way…do you know of an animal called a cat? I haven’t seen any in this part of the material plane, so I wondered.”

“We have cats,” Theresa said, masking the rage and hatred she felt for the murderous, overbearing creature.

“Good! Then this will be easy to explain! Oh, and where are my manners? I am Zonon-In: you wounded me, so you deserve my name. What are yours?”

Alex abruptly stopped his companions from answering with a shake of his head. “Both you and I know it’s never a good idea to give your name to a powerful demon, especially one that’s a bit on the hostile side at the moment.”

Meanwhile, he was communicating with Claygon. ‘Buddy, I need you to do something for me. When I say, I need you to dive at her from behind, but when you do, you’ll need—’

“Hah! You are the cleverest little mortals. It’s rare to find ones so educated. It’s usually: ‘Oh no a demon aaaaah!’ Or, ‘Why are you eviscerating me, we had a deal!’ Or, ‘You dared kill my wife and destroyed my castle and now you pay—Urgh! Gurgle! Argh! Stop ripping my belly open with your pincers!’” She clicked the pincers of her bottom arms for emphasis. “…well, perhaps that last part isn't exactly spoken in wordsas much as in ear-shattering screams, but it’s implied.”

“What’s this…got t’do wit’ cats?” Cedric growled, his eyes briefly flicking back to Alex.

Good. He’d figured out that they were buying time.

‘Nice one, Cedric,’ Alex thought.

He looked past the war-spear like it held no interest for him, while she casually twisted it in her grip in a rhythmic assault on the last animated tree. That weapon was utterly deadly: if it could wither an entire tree, then what could its barbs do to a mere human?

“Ah, yes the cats, well think of it this way,” she said. “They’re dangerous predators, in their own eyes. They take themselves so seriously, yet for all their teeth and claws and aloof self-importance, they’re still only threats to the tiniest of mortal animals. I did once hear a story about cats being more dangerous than the average mortal peasant, but that’s neither here nor there. Regardless, they see themselves as monarchs of tiny kingdoms…but they’re so small compared to all of you. Short, little lives and short, little bodies. And so sure of themselves, yet you mortals find them positively lovely! And so…” She gestured to the three of them. “Here you are, less than a third my size, thinking yourselves predators of the highest order…and yet you’re so small in the end. It’s just too cute!”

Cedric growled, but Alex’s voice remained even and quiet.

“I can see the similarities, I guess. But we don’t usually try to skewer our cats…or any of our pets.”

“Hah! Then you haven’t spent enough time in the world experiencing proper things,” Zonon-In told him. “Some mortals find the struggles of things with short, little lives amusing. That futile rage and desperation, that’s when you’re most adorable! Now, then—”

‘Just a little more!’ Alex thought.

“You’re not going to let us leave, are you?” he asked. “A demon of your power has a lot of magic to call on, and you’re not using it.”

“Oh, very astute. You are right. I’ve no reason to use it, but—as you experienced—if you get too out of line, you’ll be disciplined! Now, then…enough of your bid to buy time. I think I’ll greet your other friends with your mutilated bodies. Alive, of course. Otherwise, where would the sport be in that?”

With that, she swept her war-spear above her head, cutting down the final tree with a single stroke.

Alex grimaced. ‘Well, not surprised she figured it out. But…’ He looked at the spear again, thinking about everything Baelin talked about with the Teleportation Shuffle.

…focusing on what he’d said about paying attention to where you were going to appear in case there were obstacles in the way.

A new plan crystalized.

“Right, then!” Cedric chugged his potion of haste. “No more buyin’ time for us, then!”

He charged.

“Theresa!” Alex cried, tossing her another potion. “Claygon!”

He made sure to call his golem’s name out loud, bringing Zonon-In’s attention to him

Claygon dove from the sky, his fists ready.

Theresa swallowed the potion of haste and charged, while Alex soared higher, downing his. He was activating the Mark, focusing on the task of ‘faking spellcasting’.

Memories returned of Baelin summoning his terrible whirlwind over the Skinned Ones’ dungeon. Alex threw booby-trapped potions of sensory enhancement into his four remaining Wizard’s Hands, shooting them forward as Cedric reached the demon.

With the haste potion running through him, the Chosen was a blur, spinning his morphic weapon, chopping at the demon, trying to reduce her to bits.

But she was fast. Theresa joined the Chosen, Zonon-In’s pincers struck like snakes, blocking their assault.

Claygon dove from above.

The demon was all smiles, grinning at Alex as her spear lashed out. It reached its target, slashing Claygon’s torso: a wound that would have halved a living creature. He paused for an instant, then dropped, plummeting into the swamp with a splash that bathed everything near, then Alex’s golem sank beneath the water.

“Claygon!” His voice broke with pain.

Zonon-In laughed…as he knew she would.

His face twisted with loss and he raised both arms. A Wizard’s Hand flew at her face, crushing the bottle in it, releasing mist in her eyes.

“Have you no imagination?” she shook her head as if in disappointment. “This again? My senses are—”

But Alex was already ‘chanting’ with all the fury he could put in his voice. Almost perfectly mimicking the words of Baelin’s terrible incantation above the Skinless Ones’ dungeon, but in the noise and intensity of battle, perfection wasn’t needed.

“None of that!” Zonon-In shouted.

She flipped the spear.

His eyes narrowed.

It flew with such speed, his forceshield shattered from a glancing blow as he dodged it. His heart pounded. Alex exhaled, bracing for the feel of teleportation magic.

Then, it flared.

‘Now!’ came the command.

Three Wizard’s Hands shot into the demon’s hand; the one waiting for the war-spear to return.

Bottles shattered, Wizard’s Hands filled her palm, the spear reappeared, and blocked by his spells from landing in her hand, the weapon rolled from her fingers.

“What?!” The demon bellowed, mist blocking her sight.

Theresa and Cedric struck her throwing arm as one. She sliced Zonon-In’s fingers, drawing blood from the softer flesh. His weapon became an axe, driving into the monster’s elbow.

She shrieked, caught off guard and furious, reeling from pain and confusion.

And in that confusion, her weapon dropped, turning end over end before hitting the water below.

A massive hand reached up.

Swamp water erupted like a geyser and the immense figure burst from the depths.

Gashes ran along his torso.

Water streamed from his form.

And in two hands?

Claygon gripped the demon’s war-spea