Chapter 6
Ismene screamed as the monster pinned her to the soft earth of the forest floor, his tongue sliding over her face as she twisted in his grasp. She lashed out with her knee and caught the incubus in the groin, causing it's grasp to loosen. Wriggling frantically, she managed to pull free and slide out from under the creature. She was a few steps from the creature when she felt a hand close around her ankle and pulled her to the ground.
Her breath exploded from her lungs as she fell to the forest floor, bits of leaves and twigs scattering. She pushed herself up with her hands, looking over her shoulder at the creature holding her. She screamed again as it pulled her dress from her body with one hand, leaving her barely clad in her shift and stockings.
Her screams were cut off as the incubus covered her mouth with its hand and pinned her beneath it, its breath hot and loud in her ear. Ismene squirmed beneath the monster as it ran its tongue over her neck and up the curve of her jaw, stopping to nip at the tip of her ear with its teeth before sucking hungrily at her neck.
Ismene sobbed in terror as the thing's cock pressed against her back. She could feel a warm wetness soaking through her shift as the incubus rubbed its cock against her. The young elf moaned in despair as she realized there was no escape from the creature.
Her eyes widened as the thing lifted itself off of her and tore her shift off, tossing the ruined garment to one side before grasping her hips and pulling her bottom into the air. Ismene twisted madly as the thing wrapped its arms around her waist and slid its cock over her bottom towards her entrance. She screamed in despair as the tightened its grip, realizing what was going to happen to her.
The incubus let its weight fall onto her, crushing her to the soft earth. Ismene clawed at the ground, vainly hoping for some miracle to rescue her. She shuddered as the monster licked at the back of her neck then down to her the creamy white skin of her bare shoulder. She let her head fall to the dirt, her body tensing as the monster shifted and prepared to drive into her.
Ismene closed her eyes and waited for the inevitable.
Just as the monster was ready to penetrate her, Ismene felt a rush of air and then the monster's weight was off her. She scrambled to her feet and was turning to see what had happened when something hard struck her in the forehead, sending her tumbling to the ground unconscious.
The sea had been calm that day, small waves moving over the surface of the ocean as gently as if it were a lake. Lord Volchim was at the tiller of the small sailboat as they sailed out past the tip of the peninsula towards the pod of whales.
"Ismene," he had said, "I think I love-"
Ismene had been surprised when he had leaned over and kissed her, but not enough to not enjoy it. The kiss had seemed to go on for a long time until a sudden splash of water over the edge of the boat had soaked Ismene to the skin. Vysthus had apologized for surfacing so close to the boat, he had forgotten how small it was. After that, they had watched the whales.
"-my fault!" a man's voice was saying somewhat petulantly. "I didn't mean for the incubus to knock a tree down on her!"
"Tancred," another voice said, this one feminine and a warm sensuousness to it. "No one's blaming you, we're lucky that she wasn't hurt badly."
Ismene opened her eyes and looked at the whitish blur of the tower's living room ceiling. "Look, she's awake," the woman said. Ismene blinked slowly and tried to move her head, groaning as a stabbing pain jabbed through her temples. A beautiful human woman with long coppery hair was leaning over her and placing a cool cloth on her forehead. "How are you feeling?"
"What happened?" Ismene asked quietly.
"This man saved you," Irvan said as he leaned over the back of the couch to look down at Ismene's face. "He's from Corannon. They're here to stop Cirron." Ismene smiled at the handsome man wearing the dark spectacles. He smiled back, flashing brilliant white teeth and canines that seemed longer than they should be.
"I'm not the best healer," the woman was saying to Irvan, "but I think she should get all the rest she can." Irvan nodded and patted Ismene on the shoulder.
"We'll be in the kitchen if you need anything," he said with a gentle smile. Ismene nodded back and found that she was already falling asleep as they walked away.
"It wasn't my fault," Tancred said again as they gathered around the kitchen table. He had been especially moody since he had gone after the elf girl. Solyma thought it was the sun getting to him. He had been in the sun for the past three days, on and off. It wouldn't kill him, but it sure wasn't helping his temper. Solyma also thought he might be hungry.
"No one thinks that it is, Tancred," she said soothingly with a pat on his hand. "Now, how are we going to get the dragon's egg back."
"I have a name," Vysthus said through the open kitchen window.
"Sorry, how are we going to get Vysthus' egg back?"
Tancred was only half-listening as the rest of the group sketched out a plan to decoy most of the undead and Cirron away from the manor with an illusion of Ismene. Tancred toyed with the cuff of his shirt sleeve as Kerrith questioned Irvan on the layout of the manor and where the egg was. With Hector's help, Irvan had managed to find the egg fairly easily.
The vampire sighed as Irvan began to put together dinner for his guests, knowing that he would have to find some other way of getting nourishment. Maybe Solyma, he thought with a little smile. Or failing that, he could go find some animals in the woods.
"Thank you," he said as Irvan gave him a glass of wine.
Cirron, Tancred thought as he sipped his wine. He had been ruthless even for a mercenary, showing no regard for the lives of civilians or anyone else in his way. Men, children, women... Tancred grimaced at the thought of what Cirron had done to the women unlucky enough to fall into his clutches. He still felt sorry that he hadn't killed Cirron earlier, he might have saved Tatiana...
"Hey, Tancred," Solyma said. Tancred looked up guiltily and saw that everyone else had left to prepare. "You coming?"
"What's happening?" Tancred asked.
"We're getting ready to leave for the manor, Vysthus and Irvan are going to create a diversion while you get the egg."
"Me?"
"Yes, weren't you listening? You kept nodding your head."
"Sorry, I was thinking of something, someone else."
"Well, come on, you'll need to eat before you go. I think I can spare some blood," Solyma said with a wink as she led Tancred towards the guest bedroom. "I'll explain the plan to you."
Cirron fumed as Sammel reported the death of the incubus. "How am I supposed to summon a legion of Dathuz then?" he yelled.
"Sir, I've been scrying for the elf woman and I've just found her near town along with Irvan. I think they might be trying to escape."
"Escape? Where's Vysthus? I want them dead!"
"Vysthus reports that he's on his way but there are Krisephyrian forces in town with mages. He'll need help."
"Bah! Useless lizard! Leave a guard for the egg and form the rest up in front of the road. We'll wipe out those Kingdom fools and get our sacrifice."
"They took the bait!" Bradley whispered excitedly.
"Yeah, Cirron never was the brightest candle in the chandelier," Tancred said, feeling much better with some of Solyma's blood in him. They were both still flushed from the, ah, briefing that she had given him.
"You know your job?" Kerrith said, peering out of the undergrowth they were hidden in at the receding forms of Cirron's undead soldiers.
"Do the vampire, shadow of the night, thing and get the egg out from underneath the guard's noses. I know what to do," he said, feeling immensely better with nightfall and eating.
They watched as Tancred stood and became a cloud of reddish mist spreading out over the ground. He slowly began to drift towards the manor house, indistinguishable from any of the other patches of mist and fog forming in the night air.
Ismene sighed softly as she closed the door to the children's room. They had been worried sick over her and had had trouble getting to sleep. It had taken three stories and a lullaby before they finally drifted off.
She slowly walked down the short hallway to the stairs and then down to the living room, her feet slipping soundlessly over the rug. She stopped in front of the window and gazed out at the moon and towards the patch of forest where she knew the manor was.
"Is everything alright, Miss Isalisos?" Hector said as he floated in from the kitchen, wooden spoon still in hand. He had been idly working on a batch of chili, hoping that the smell of cooking food would help relax Ismene and the children.
"Oh, yes, yes, everything is fine," Ismene said as she looked over at the odd familiar of the female mage. He was a pair of gauntlets and a helmet and that was all, something Ismene couldn't ever remember seeing before, even in Taladros.
"Is it?" he said, floating closer. Oh yes, Ismene thought, the monocle. It flashed in the moonlight and reminded Ismene of a particularly stuffy merchant friend of her father's.
"No, I suppose it isn't. Lord Volchim, Arcin, is trapped inside that monster and no one is willing to try to free him," Ismene said, more sharply than she had intended to.
"There is no way to free him, Ismene," Hector said softly. "Three mages taught at the College agree. Without someone to perform the rites of exorcism, Cirron will have complete control of Lord Volchim's body."
"Then why don't we find somebody who can do them?" Ismene asked, feeling her voice rising.
"There's no one in Cielcroix alive who knows them." Hector floated closer and held up the spoon. "Here, try some chili, it's very good."
"Why can't they capture him and take him somewhere where someone knows how to save him?"
Hector sighed as he lowered his spoon, his chili still untasted. "They will try their best to do so. But Cirron is a dangerous man, he may not allow himself to be captured."
Ismene wiped at the tears coursing down her face with the back of her sleeve. "I wish I could talk to him one more time, tell him that I know he wasn't the one who-" She stopped and looked down at the floor, moonlight reflecting off her tears.
"I wouldn't worry about that if I were you, he probably knows that. Did you say anything like that to Cirron?"
"I...don't think so. Why, could he hear me if I said something?"
Hector cursed inwardly as he saw the sudden hope that lit up Ismene's face. "No, I don't think-" But he was too late. Ismene had rushed out the door and down the stairs, her hair flying behind her.
"He's taking his sweet time getting the egg," Solyma grumbled, swatting at a mosquito buzzing around her head. She was trying to remember a weave to repel insects when she saw something moving behind one of the manor's windows.
"There he is," Kerrith said. "Can anyone tell what's happening?"
"Um," Solyma said as she squinted, trying to see through the night. Suddenly there was a crash and Tancred flew through a large window to land hard on the ground outside. He had an egg slightly larger than his head cradled in his arms as he stood shakily. "Let's get the horses," Solyma said
Tancred was swearing loudly as he limped over to them, his clothes torn and bloody furrows scratched in his face and his arms.
"Thrice damned zombies," he mumbled as he climbed onto his horse wearily. None of them noticed the pale shape of an elf woman slipping into the manor as they rode away.
They had just turned onto the road leading back to Merglise and from there to Irvan's tower when Solyma heard Hector calling to her. Kerrith looked questioningly back at her as she reined in her horse and bent her head.
She swore vehemently as she listened to Hector. "Ismene's gone missing," Solyma said. "Hector thinks she's headed back towards the manor." Solyma paused, listening to Hector again. "God's blood! Hector thinks that she wants to try to talk to Lord Volchim."
"We've got to find her," Kerrith said. "Bradley, go with Tancred and ride back towards town and the tower. If we're lucky you'll intercept her on the way." Kerrith looked over to Solyma. "We'll head back towards the manor, she may have passed us while we were in the forest."
Ismene walked slowly through the rotting halls of Lord Volchim's manor. Decay seemed to have set in at a tremendous speed, causing the polished woods and painted plaster to fade and mold. It was hardly recognizable as a place where children had once run or dances held.
She had seen none of the undead and could not feel their presence. Ismene took that as a sign that the soldier's plan had worked and drawn off the undead guarding the manor. She wondered if her trip was wasted. In all likelihood Lord Volchim- no, Cirron would be leading his troops.
For a moment Ismene hesitated and turned to look back toward the main entrance of the manor. Down the fungus and moss festooned walls she could see the doorway to the main foyer of the manor. Rectangles of moonlight shone in through the dirt smudged windows that line the hallway, casting stark shadows over the floor. "No," she whispered. "I have to do this."
Steeling herself, Ismene began to walk towards the library. As she approached she could see flickering lamplight shining under the doors. Her steps slowed as she reached the doors and shivered. She could feel the presence of the undead behind the doors, as palpable as a clammy hand grasping her heart.
Ismene quickly wove the charms against the draining power of the undead around her, feeling the chill effect pass from her soul.
Biting her lip nervously, she lifted the latch of the door and pushed it open.
Cirron was sitting at Lord Volchim's desk, his booted feet propped up on the top of the desk while he leaned back in Lord Volchim's chair, idly tapping a riding crop against his hand. He was looking over towards Ismene's left at something she could not see while a warm breeze blew in through the shattered window.
"-soon as Sammel get's back," he was saying. "You're a lucky bitch, the Dathuz like their women as pure as possible. Sammel says that you wouldn't make a very good sacrifice after being violated in every way. But don't think you'll escape that fate. I'll enjoy watching you scream."
Ismene froze, suddenly paralyzed by fear as Cirron looked over towards her and jumped to his feet. She didn't run as he rushed towards her and seized her around the waist, pressing her body to his as he leered at her.
"As stupid as you are beautiful," he said and dragged her into the library.
"Lord Volchim, I know you can hear me-" she said, trying to catch his eye as he shoved her to the floor in front of the desk.
Ismene winced as the hard wood floor banged into her knees. From her position she could see who Cirron was talking to. The cook, a woman of perhaps twenty-five summers hired just a few years ago was lying against the shelves lining the wall. She was bound hand and foot and gagged. Marks of tears could be seen on her face and her dress was torn in many places, exposing her quite immodestly.
"Your Lord Volchim is dead!" Cirron yelled, raising his hand and nearly striking Ismene across the face. He stopped and smiled evilly. "And soon you'll wish you were too."
Solyma studied Kerrith from the corner of her eye as they rode back up the road towards the manor. He seemed to be almost enjoying himself. She wasn't surprised. Kerrith never seemed to be as full of life as when he was riding to the rescue of some fair damsel in distress. Which was probably why he was a Knight.
"My lord, I am sorry to report that there was no sign of the elf woman or Irvan," Sammel said as he floated into the library.
"Vysthus was-" he broke off as he saw the kneeling form of Ismene.
"She came to me!" Cirron crowed. "Now, summon the Dathuz, we have wine and women for it to enjoy!"
"Lord Volchim," Ismene said as Sammel began to outline the loops and curves of the summoning weave. "Please, can you hear me?"
"He's-" Cirron began and stopped, holding his head. He grunted in pain and slammed his fist on the desktop, making the books stacked there jump. "-Dead! I, am, in, control!" he yelled, punctuating each word with a slam of his fist.
"I know you didn't want to do...what you did to me," Ismene said, looking into Cirron's eyes, praying that Arcin could hear her, even if he couldn't reply. "I remember the day on the boat and the night of the ball. I know you wouldn't do that to me."
"Be quiet, you filthy whore!" Cirron shouted, clutching his head in his hands as Sammel began to finish his weave. The slammed his fist into the desk again and swept it free of books. His right eye seemed to be glinting red while his other seemed to be normal in color.
"Ismene," he suddenly said in a tired and distraught voice, "get out of-"
"No!" Cirron shouted as his eyes suddenly flared red. "Sammel, are you ready?"
"Yes, my lord, just place the girl in center of the circle," Sammel said.
"I'm going to enjoy this," Cirron snarled as he lifted Ismene by her hair and shoved her into the waiting circle. The weave flared to life, trapping her within it. Ismene watched helplessly as Sammel finished the weave of summoning and opened the way for a Dathuz.
The elf woman scrabbled backwards, feeling her back press against the wall of magic that enclosed the circle. She could feel the charm she had woven around herself flickering and failing as a blast of energy, fouled by the touch of the undead, blew out of the center of the circle. She shivered as she saw the strands of magic tightening and spinning in her vision until a pitch black vortex formed and opened.
Cirron smiled at Ismene's scream. He watched as the portal opened and an amorphous black shape flowed out to land in the middle of the circle. The shape seemed to unfold as it stood until a gaunt figure formed of darkness stood in the circle.
"What do you want, screeling?" the Dathuz asked, its voice sounding like the scrape of an executioner's axe over the whetstone.
"My lord," Sammel said obsequiously, "we ask for a boon."
"What?"
"My lord, we ask you to lead an army for us, an army of your fellow Dathuz."
"It will take a great price before I stoop to serving you, screeling."
"We have all that you could want," Cirron said suddenly as he approached the circle holding a long necked crystal bottle. "That woman is yours to do with as you please and I have a bottle of the finest diamondflower extract."
The Dathuz made an echoing cough which Sammel realized was a grunt. "If you agree, I will allow you stay on Alderest for as long as you may desire," Sammel said.
"Very well," the Dathuz said. "Keep me supplied with what I desire and I shall serve you." With that, the Dathuz turned from them as if they didn't exist, turning his entire attention to Ismene. "An elf woman, young. It has been too long."
Ismene tried to recoil from the Dathuz as it turned towards her but could do little more than moan feebly. The dark shape became more defined as it approached her, changing from a vague outline of a humanoid to a definite shape. Ismene's eyes widened as the Dathuz reached out and caressed her cheek and she whimpered as it brought its head close to hers. She could barely make out the Dathuz's face, it seemed to be cloaked in a shifting pattern of shadow and darkness. Suddenly, like a face appearing from a cloud, she made out the form that the Dathuz had taken. She recoiled as the face of a minotaur appeared and leaned forward.
"Leave...leave me alone," she managed to say in a quiet voice. Her head was spinning and she could barely see as the weakening effect of the undead flowed over her.
"I think not," the Dathuz said quietly and suddenly she felt the cold of its presence recede. Ismene looked up at it, feeling returning to her hands and face. But the Dathuz was still there.
"How?" she said as she stood on wobbly legs, leaning against the wall of the circle for support. She could see the Dathuz more clearly now. The stories she had heard had done nothing to prepare her for the sight of the spirit of someone dead for years. This Dathuz had shaped himself into the form of a minotaur with clawed hands and spiraling horns, whether from some perverse desire or whether it was his natural form, Ismene did not know.
"Do you think I have spent centuries in the darkness without learning to control it?" the Dathuz said. "It has become a part of me."
"Please, don't do this," Ismene said as the Dathuz reached out, knowing that her words were useless.
The Dathuz laughed at Ismene's struggles, pulling her close and running a cold claw over her cheek. Ismene squeezed her eyes shut as the undead kissed her, the chill of his lifeforce making her shiver. She turned her head frantically as the Dathuz bull-head sought her lips, her hair coming loose from its pins and flying a waves around her face.
Ismene moaned as she the Dathuz kissed her with his bull-face snout, wincing as his thick lips sucked at her lower lip, feeling herself grow colder as the thing leeched her life from her body. A half remembered lesson floated back to her, the Dathuz wanted life above all else and they could steal it from a living being for their own purposes. Ismene struggled weakly, her hands clutching at the Dathuz's wrists and trying to pull them away. It felt as if she were trying to grip soft, gellid ice with the strength of tempered dwarven steel.
"Not yet, not before I have a chance to sample your charms," Ismene heard the Dathuz say. He released her, watching in satisfaction as she fell to the floor, her body shaking uncontrollably.
She could do nothing but shiver as the Dathuz waved his hand and caused her clothing to fall away from her body, crumbling the cloth into dust and blowing in the breeze.
Ismene panted for breath as the Dathuz knelt behind her and raised her onto her hands and knees. She stared straight ahead, reading the titles of the books on the shelves in front of her, trying desperately to ignore what the Dathuz was doing. She whimpered softly when the Dathuz ran its hands over her back and down to her waist. Her body was shivering with fear as she closed her eyes and waited.
Ismene made a strangled cry as the Dathuz spread her ass cheeks and slowly pushed his cock into her unprepared anus. Her head fell forward and she made muffled squeals of pain as the Dathuz pushed harder, its cock sliding into her one agonizing inch at a time. Tears sprang to her eyes as she stuffed the edge of her hand into her mouth, biting down and trying to keep from screaming in pain as the Dathuz squeezed her waist tighter and jerked her back onto its cock. For a moment she thought she was going to pass out then the Dathuz stopped, its crotch pressing against her smooth buttocks.
Ismene breathed hard through flared nostrils as she tried to get used to the horrible feeling of the Dathuz's cock in her ass. Just when she thought she could bear the pain it was causing her, the Dathuz roughly pulled back until only a bit of his cock remained in her. His next thrust forced her shoulders onto the floor, her small breasts rubbing against the polished wood. Each thrust caused her breath to explode from her body in a gasp. Her hand had fallen from her mouth and Ismene would have screamed but for the fact that she could barely gasp enough air to breathe.
The Dathuz began to thrust harder into her, jerking her bottom into the air as it lifted her on its cock. Eyes wide and glazed with pain, Ismene felt the Dathuz's cock throb and cum inside her.
Ismene turned her head to the floor and struggled not to cry as the Dathuz slowly pulled out of her, savoring the feeling of her sphincter clenching at his cock. The elf woman let out a wavering moan of relief as the Dathuz finally pulled himself out of her and leaned back to sit on the floor.
"Don't think we're done yet," the Dathuz spoke as he stroked her sweat slicked back. Ismene managed to whimper softly as the Dathuz gathered her into his arms and lifted her into the air, its freezing arms freezing against her flushed skin.
Ismene moaned as the Dathuz turned her to face away from it and pressed her against its chest. Her teeth chattered as the Dathuz kissed the back of her neck with his bull snout and reached down to part her legs. Her efforts to close them failed miserably, she could barely keep her head from lolling like a rag doll's. Her eyes widened as she saw what Cirron was doing to the cook. He had the poor woman bent over the desk and was tearing the few shreds of clothing that remained from her body.
Ismene's attention was brought back to her own plight as the Dathuz let her slide down his body until the tip of his red cock poked aout between her legs as his shaft pressed against her quim. She shivered as she saw the thing, erect and ready to impale her. She closed her eyes and gritted her teeth as the Dathuz shifted its hips and loosened his grip on her waist and let her slide onto his cock.
A stifled whimper escaped her clenched teeth as his cock began to penetrate her. She moaned as he thrust his hips upwards while jerking her down onto his cock, sliding into her. Her hands clutched and tightened, pushing against his hips behind her as she tried to keep from screaming.
"I had forgotten how tight you elves are," he hissed into her ear as he moved one hand up to rub and caress her stomach. "Are you enjoying this? I will try to be gentle," he said with a hard thrust up into her and a laugh. He laughed again as he stroked her silken blonde hair and buried his muzzle in it, smelling deeply and inhaling the sweet scent of the soap she had used earlier in the day.
Ismene groaned as he slowly slid into her, whimpering with each thrust. She could feel herself drifting away from what was happening, away from the painful thrusts of the Dathuz, away from the screams and cries of the cook.
The Dathuz grunted in disappointment as the elf fainted, although he wasn't surprised. He left any pretense of gentleness behind as the elf's head nodded forward and yanked her down onto his cock. He could feel her quim squeezing his cock as it slowly accommodated him, pleasures he had not felt in centuries flooded back as he ran his hands up the woman's flanks and cupped her small breasts. His hands easily covered them as he began to squeeze and fondle them in time to his thrusts, stroking her nipples and smiling as they hardened. He began to grunt in pleasure as he pumped faster into the elf's limp body, his hands fondling and groping her skin.
Cirron watched, his eyes glazed with lust, as the Dathuz had his way with the elf woman. He had been disappointed at her lack of screams and pleas, he had been hoping she would have at least cried. But her violation was pleasing enough, and apparently painful enough to cause her to faint before the Dathuz had finished with her.
Cirron smiled and licked his lips as he pushed his cock deeper into the struggling woman beneath him. She screamed each time as he pushed deeper into her pussy, her body jerking and squirming beneath him as he bent her over the desk. He pulled her dark hair back cruelly, making her watch as Ismene was violated.
"You'll be the Dathuz's next toy," he said in her ear, delighting in her despairing wail. With each thrust he imagined that it was that sweet elf he was taking again, her cries and her tears.
Ismene blinked and tried to see where she was. It was dark around her, like the darkness just before dawn, full of potential and as if the world was holding its breath. She gasped as she remembered what had just happened, how the undead spirit was raping her. Her mind spun in confusion as she looked down and saw herself fully clothed in a ball gown and realized that she felt none of the pain that the Dathuz had caused her.
"Hello?" she said to the darkness. "Am I dead?" It didn't seem right. All her life she had been taught that when she died she would be led to the next world by Talas and Taleh, the twin gods of the elves. There was supposed to be a ship waiting for her not this warm darkness.
"Ismene?"
She gasped as she heard that voice. "Lord Volchim? Arcin?" she said, looking frantically around her for him. Nothing but the darkness but then she heard the sound of bootheels on the floor. Turning towards the sound she saw a light like a candle bobbing around head height. "Is that you?"
Ismene's face broke into an ecstatic grin as she saw who was carrying the candle. "Arcin!" she yelled as she ran towards him.
He caught her around the waist, letting the candle blow out as he spun her around in a circle and kissed her. The darkness was gone now, replaced by the light of lamps. Ismene looked around as they broke their kiss.
"We're in the library?" she said. But what she saw was not the decaying and dirty library that she had been in but the clean and warm library that Arcin had kept when she had first arrived.
"Ismene," he said. "This is just an illusion."
"Then, we're dead?" Ismene said slowly.
"You, no. Me, yes."
"But-"
He quieted her by pressing his finger to her lips. "I don't have much time left. I've used what little strength I have left to bring you here," he said quietly, his eyes falling to the floor. "There's so much I want to tell you, but I don't have the time. Here," he said, placing the harshly glowing curves of a magical weave in her hand. "There's no more time," he said while the light from the lamps began to fade.
"Arcin! No, wait, don't go yet!" Ismene cried.
But there was only darkness.
The Dathuz grunted with lust as he pounded into Ismene's quim. Her limp body jerked across the polished wood of the floor as he thrust into her while her arms lay splayed over her head. He groaned in pleasure as he felt himself climax. He grabbed her breasts and pushed himself all the way into her. His cock pulsed and spewed another stream of cum inside her.
He slowly pulled out of the unconscious elf. The Dathuz turned to face Cirron. "Are you enjoying your woman?"
The woman bent over the table beneath Cirron had ceased her struggles and was lying limply beneath him with her eyes closed.
"Immensely," Cirron grunted with a last thrust of his hips. He withdrew from the woman and smeared a strand of cum from the head of his cock onto her naked buttocks. "Will you summon more of your kind now?" he asked as he pulled up his breeches.
"Very well."
Solyma crept behind Kerrith, her sword at the ready and a weave of fire wrapped around her left hand. They were creeping towards the sound of a woman's high pitched screams. The screams had faded and stopped a few minutes ago making Solyma wonder if the woman was still alive.
They stopped outside a set of double doors. Lamp light could be seen from under them and a muffled conversation heard.
"Someone's trying to summon something," Solyma hissed under her breath.
"On three, one, two, three-" Kerrith said, kicking open the door and rushing in under the cover of his shield, Solyma right behind him.
Solyma had a glance of a man bent over a woman who lay limply beneath him on the desk before Kerrith leapt over the desk and tackled the man.
Solyma ducked as she felt the heat of a fireball scorch over her head. Tucking and rolling to the side, she turned her head and saw the wavering form of screeling in time to dodge its next magical attack, a bolt of dark energy.
Solyma dropped her sword as she brought both hands up and let loose a blast of magical fire. The screeling howled in agony as the fire loosened its ties to the world of the living and pushed it closer to the realm of the dead. Solyma ignored the deafening crashing and cursing coming from behind her and deflected another bolt of energy with a hasty weave of defense.
The screeling roared and charged at her, flinging another bolt of energy as he flew towards her. Solyma hissed in pain as the screeling's hands grabbed her arm and sent a wave of freezing cold into her. With her free hand she conjured another fireball and this time shoved it into the screeling's face. She held the fireball there, pumping as much energy as she could channel into it and watching as the screeling's form wavered and finally disappeared in a burst of fog and tattered cloth.
"Solyma, watch out!" Kerrith yelled.
Solyma spun and saw the nightmarish form of a Dathuz with the shape of a naked minotaur charging her. She tried to dodge away from it but failed as its hands grabbed her by the shirt and clamped a hand around her neck.
"I won't have time to enjoy you, pretty one," the Dathuz said as it squeezed her neck in preparation for crushing her windpipe.
Solyma brought her knee up and scored a direct hit on the Dathuz's crotch, causing it to stagger. It was enough time for her to shove another fireball in its face.
Solyma paled as the Dathuz shook its head and turned back to her, apparently unaffected by the fireball. She grasped at her dagger and yanked it from its sheath as her vision began to turn dark around the edges. Solyma stabbed the Dathuz in the neck and wrenched her dagger to the side, causing a stream of steaming black blood to shoot from the gaping wound. The Dathuz's grip loosened just enough for her to break free and fall to the floor gasping for breath.
She looked up just as the Dathuz raised its claws to slash her open. Trying for a desperate dodge, Solyma jerked her body backwards into a reverse somersault. Expecting at any moment to feel the claws of the Dathuz tearing into her, Solyma finished her roll and hopped to her feet.
Solyma watched as Ismene shoved a weave into the Dathuz's back, stopping it mid-strike. The weave began to glow and expand to surround the Dathuz and then began to tighten.
The Dathuz roared in anger, his bellows shaking books from the shelves, as he was banished back to wherever he came from.
"I'll remember you, elf!" he screamed as his body shrank and disappeared. "I'll have my revenge!" And then he was gone with nary a trace.
Solyma turned at the sound of crashing glass and saw the fleeing form of Cirron running out the library door with Kerrith in hot pursuit. Rubbing her neck, Solyma chased after them and onto a large stone terrace.
"He's getting away!" she yelled to Kerrith as they ran after him. "He's too damn fast!"
It was true, Cirron was easily outpacing them and had reached the edge of the terrace before they had crossed a quarter of it.
Cirron turned his head and slowed to make an obscene gesture at them and laughed as he turned to run. He grunted in surprise as Vysthus knocked him to the ground with a beat from his wing and landed to place his claw directly above the man's heart.
"Kill me and you kill Lord Volchim!" Cirron yelled in a last desperate gamble.
Solyma and Kerrith ran up to the dragon, watching as Bradley, Tancred, and Irvan slid off his back.
"Please, don't!" Ismene shouted as she ran out of the library and onto the terrace, her body covered only in a light lace curtain salvaged from the window. She ran over to Vysthus, her blond hair streaming in the moonlight to crouch by Cirron. "Arcin, if you can hear me, please show me," she begged.
Behind her Irvan shook his head and Kerrith moved forward to pull her back. He stopped when Cirron groaned, "Ismene? Is that you? It's so dark, I can't see. Help me, please."
"It's him, it's Arcin!" Ismene cried out.
"Arcin? Is that you?" Irvan asked.
"Yes, please, I'm almost gone, I don't have any more strength to fight him," he stopped and his eyes closed. When they opened he said, "See! Your precious lord is trapped within me! Kill me and you kill an innocent man!"
"Vysthus, try the exorcism," Irvan said. They watched as Vysthus began to craft a weave using his free claws and his serpentine tongue. The weave sparkled to life, seeming to flame and burn as it settled onto the chest of Lord Volchim's body. They watched as he screamed and flailed, his heels drumming against the granite of the terrace.
"Please, Arcin, come back to me," Ismene said.
There was a long silence as Lord Volchim's body stilled.
"Did it work?" Irvan asked.
"I think so," Vysthus said. "I'm not sure."
"It worked," Lord Volchim groaned. "I feel awful." He looked at the claw pinning him to the ground. "Can you let me up?"
Vysthus grinned and lifted his claw as Lord Volchim sat up slowly. Ismene let out a sob of relief and rushed over to him as he stood, wrapping her arms around him and burying her face in his chest. "Don't worry, Ismene," Lord Volchim said, "we'll have lots of fun together in the dark!"
Kerrith swore as Cirron pulled a dagger from his belt and spun Ismene around. He held the dagger to her throat as he backed away, glancing up at Vysthus. "Don't try anything or she dies."
Ismene struggled against him, feeling her heart crumbling with each obscenity that Cirron whispered in her ear. She gasped when he said, "Ismene, it's really me this time. I'm trapped, I can't get free. I can't die as long as my body lives."
"Arcin?"
"No!" Cirron said vehemently as he shook his head. "Lord Volchim is gone-"
"Kill me!" Lord Volchim said.
"No!" Cirron screamed, his grip on Ismene slipping. She managed to twist away from him enough so that she was facing him.
He seemed to be struggling with himself as his dagger came up and then lowered.
"Take it!" Lord Volchim hissed. Ismene stared at him as she took the dagger from his unresisting grip.
"Die you bitch!" Cirron yelled and charged at her. Ismene moaned in horror as she felt him charge onto the dagger and saw the pain in his eyes. He clutched at her as he fell to the terrace, blood spilling from his wound and painting the stone, shining black in the moonlight.
"Ismene?" Lord Volchim whispered as she lowered him to the terrace, blood soaking her hair and skin. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."
"Shhh, don't be. Irvan will heal you right up," she said, smoothing back his hair from his face.
"No, I have to die and take Cirron with me."
"Don't talk like that."
"I'm sorry. Please," he shuddered, "forgive me?"
"Of course I forgive you."
"Gods, what a fool I've been..."
"Shhh. Quiet. Why aren't you helping him?" Ismene asked, her voice cracking with grief. She shook her shoulder out from under Irvan's gentle touch.
"Miri? Where are you? Why didn't you come home?" Arcin asked quietly, his eyes seeing some distant time and place. "I miss you so much. I'm sorry I wasn't there for you-" he shuddered again, his skin growing deathly white. "Miri? I'm sorry," he said as he looked up into Ismene's face.
"I forgive you," she said quietly. "I love you, Arcin." Ismene leaned over and kissed him gently on the mouth.
"I love you too, Miri. I'm sorry about your garden, I'll help you plant a new one as soon as you get back-" Ismene watched in horror as his eyes glazed over, their gaze focused on someplace that she had never seen.
The End
The World of Alderest - IV - A Journey With the Dead - Chapter 6
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