Death's Angels

Chapter Thirty-Seven

“For thousand years Yagga bound,” boomed an inhuman voice. Rik was certain that it was as much in his head as in his ears. “Now Yagga am free.”

Rik heard Asea shout something in an alien tongue.

“You still live devil-woman. Yagga change that.”

Rik looked up. The column of fire was coalescing into something else. It was five times Rik’s height, the lower half was still fire but the other half resembled a human. It had arms, shoulders and a head crowned with curling goat-like horns. The light of its blazing body drove the last of the shadows from the room, fully revealing the disturbing sight of the pods on the wall and the things that writhed within them. It stretched out towards Asea with talons that dripped flame but something prevented its grip from closing. A look of frustration passed across the demon’s features.

“Yagga still bound.”

Asea shouted something else.

Yagga’s enormous head turned. The fires in his eyes blazed brighter. A look of dismay passed across his brutish all-too-human face. “Yagga imprisoned for thousand years and now Yagga must fight the Scuttler in the Shadows!”

Something about Yagga’s tone suggested a cosmic injustice was being committed here. Perhaps it was.

Asea shouted again.

Yagga shrugged. “If Yagga must, Yagga must.”

The column of flame swirled upwards and away. From Yagga’s massive hands came balls of fire. They exploded among the Ultari driving them back, setting them alight, making them scuttle for the shadows. The enormous demon god emerging from the portal looked up to see Yagga coming. A sword of fire appeared in Yagga’s hands. With a strange sinuous motion Uran Ultar’s massive centipedal body looped up to meet him. Webs of energy spewed forth from its jaws. Yagga sliced them with his blade. Battle was joined.

“What now?” asked Sardec.

“Yagga cannot prevail against Uran Ultar,” said Asea. There was something like fear in her voice, the fear of one enormously strong who had encountered something beyond her strength. “All he can do is slow down his manifestation. We must kill the sorcerer and close the portal. He is its one remaining pole.”

The surviving Ultari regrouped and began to advance once more. There were far fewer of them, and no more appeared to be freeing themselves while Uran Ultar was engaged, but there were still enough to slaughter the depleted Foragers.

Asea made the whipping gesture with her lash. A few sparks flickered from its tip.

“Damnation,” she said. “Totally depleted.”

Excellent, thought Rik. That’s all we needed.

Overhead demon battled demon. Sword of fire clashed with web of darkness. Massive mandibles bit into elemental flesh. Yagga’s fire seemed to burn less brightly but his blows were having some effect. Great welts blackened Uran Ultar’s carapace. Rik wished Yagga had possessed sense enough to kill a few more Ultari before engaging their god, but he doubted Yagga was the brightest of demons.

Rik watched the Ultari converge around them. It looked like the Terrarchs would not be much longer for this world. It was a pity that he would be following them shortly thereafter. It also occurred to him that they were the only ones with the knowledge and the will to close this portal. If they died, the Foragers’ chances of getting out of this place were exactly nil. He wracked his brain for some way of saving the situation. Short of killing Zarahel he just could not see one.

Asea had drawn her sword. Scarlet runes glowed along its surface. Sardec had his blade in his hand. “Forward men!” he shouted. “Kill that bloody sorcerer.”

A bellow announced that the Barbarian had decided to take him at his word. He raced forward towards the glow of the pattern, shouting curses. A look of berserk fury transfigured the Barbarian’s face. Behind him went Asea and Sardec and some more of the Foragers.

Asea’s black garbed servants threw themselves between their mistress and the first of the oncoming Ultari. The blades flickered out lightning fast. Their wielders attacked as a team. When the demon gave its attention to one, he backed off, while the other attacked. It was a tactic that might have worked had there been only one of the things. As it was, a second entered the fray and drove the bodyguards apart.

Zarahel was the key to the situation. The sorcerer very badly needed to die. The only question was how to do it. Shooting him from a distance had not worked too well. The only thing he could think of was to get closer. Unfortunately that meant somehow getting through the spider demons. He took one of Karl’s glass bombs in his hand and began to move out around the flank of the Forager force. Leon followed him and much to his surprise so did Weasel.

He was not going to object; having men he could trust in a fight nearby seemed like a very good idea. The rest of the Foragers were spread out behind them now. Most of them firing wild, aiming at the demons. A few had started to back off out of the hall, preparing to flee. Rik could see Sergeant Hef kicking their arses, literally pushing them back towards the fight.

The Barbarian had managed to get on the back of an Ultari and was driving his blade again and again into the beast beneath his feet, rising to his full height and then falling to his knees to plunge his blade home. The Ultari bucked and reared trying to throw him off but somehow the big man managed to keep his position until at last the beast crumpled below him. Unhesitatingly he threw himself clear, leaping from its back, aiming to bestride the closest in the same way. All the time, he raved and cursed like a lunatic. Unfortunately as he landed, his boots slipped and he fell out of Rik’s sight. The Ultari backed off, and its huge scything forearms rose and fell. When they rose again, they were covered in red blood. And that, thought Rik, was the end of that.

“Bastard,” Weasel cursed. “He deserved better.”

“Well, let’s do something to even the score.”

“Bloody right, Halbreed.” They advanced towards the oncoming Ultari, certain that they were going to die, and determined to sell their lives dearly.

A moment later, one of Asea’s bodyguards went down before the rush of an Ultari. Seconds after that, its scythe-like claw smashed down on the sorceress, knocking her from her feet. There goes our last hope, thought Rik.

He weighed the bomb in his hand, noticing that Lieutenant Sardec still stood. Here was a chance for vengeance, he thought, feeling the weight of death heavy in the chemical egg. Here was a chance for some payback for all the debts he owed the Exalted. He could kill the bastard painfully before the spider-thing did.

For a moment, he seriously considered it then he threw the bomb. It flew directly at its target. Even as he lobbed it, Rik knew his aim was true.

Sardec lashed out with his blade. It bit into the foreleg of the demon, sending greenish ichor spraying out all over his uniform. The great scythe came clear, but that still left his foe with another one. He sprang back to avoid its riposte. The hard chitinous blade tore a line of fire across his chest. The pain was excruciating. He gritted his teeth and prepared to battle on.

“To me, men,” he roared, and was surprised to discover a group of Foragers actually responding. For certain he only recognised the one named Gunther. The human strode up, smoke and sparks flaming from his musket as he put a ball through one of the Ultari’s eyes. That seemed to work. The demon skittered backwards, rising on its hind legs, giving the impression of a creature in great agony.

As it did so, two more men raced forward and drove bayonets into the weak spots where leg met carapace. The demon lashed out with its blade decapitating one, and falling forward to crush the other. Gunther slammed a bayonet into place on his musket and began driving it home into the demon’s body all the while, praying loudly to the Light. Sardec fervently hoped it heard his prayers.

Asea lay nearby. Blood stained her armour. It was rent and torn in a dozen places where the Ultari had struck her. Even the thick dragonscale leather could not fully resist those huge scythes. One of her bodyguards lay sprawled near her, dead or dying. The other stood over them both with a wild look in its strange eyes. It chanted something to itself in a language Sardec did not recognise. The last few ripjacks were down now as well. He could hear only one of them squealing in pain nearby. Even as he listened, the squealing stopped.

The maelstrom of battle was all around. He had no idea of the big picture. Clouds of musket smoke obscured sight. The screams of the dying drowned out his shouts of command. It was a personal battle now, hand to hand and one which the humans were destined to lose. Overhead Yagga battled on, magma-like blood flowing over his body.

Think, he told himself. There must be something you can do, some way you can disrupt the spell. A spider demon reared over him. More came behind it. This was not going to work, he thought. He was going to die here.

Something flashed overhead and splashed down on the Ultari’s back. It was a crystal egg of some sort. It broke and the sulphurous smell of alchemical fire filled the air as the chemicals within ignited. The demon’s legs began to dance uncontrollably as it backed away, bumping into others spreading the fire. More of the glass eggs flashed overhead, landing amid the spiders. Once more they retreated. Off to his right, Sardec could see the half-breed was lobbing the bombs while his two companions engaged one of the Ultari. He realised that he was safe for a moment, and more than that there was a clear path before him that led to the sorcerer.

Sardec felt his blade heavy in his fist and the answer came to him. Moonshade, he thought. The blade was made from truesilver alloys, wrapped round with elder signs intended to disrupt magic. It was an artefact of the home-world. Perhaps…

"Death or glory!" he shouted.

Without further thought he raised the sword and rushed forward into the pattern. The effect was immediate. Pain surged through him. The blade burned in his hands. As he fought through the area of the spell, he left a trail of sparks that dazzled the eye. He felt the blaze of Yagga above him, and the rotting chill that marked the presence of Uran Ultar. The air around him shimmered like a heat-haze. Everything within the area of the pattern felt distorted. Rainbow energies coruscated around him. Space itself seemed to warp and bend. He realised that he was at once in this world and somewhere else. The blade burned in his fist, so hot it was melting. He felt as if his fingers were on fire, fusing to the weapon.

Before him loomed Zarahel. He knew he was only going to get one chance at this. He lunged and his blade bit home into the carapace that surrounded the magician.

“No!” he heard the spider sorcerer scream. Zarahel clutched at his chest. There was a huge explosion as monstrous amounts of unearthly energy were unleashed. A blinding flash blazed across his field of vision. Sardec was vaguely aware of dark shapes being torn apart by the forces, and a shock wave lifting him from his feet.

That did it, he thought, as the darkness took him.

Zarahel fought the pain within him. The agony was appalling. He was so close. It came to him that the thought was not entirely his own but belonged to the manifesting god above him. Not that it mattered. He had no desire to die here. He fought to keep the collapsing spell functioning, to prevent the doorway closing and Uran Ultar being sucked back into his extra-dimensional lair. The monstrous melting blade burned in his chest. The agony was all but unendurable.

Rik watched appalled as the explosion raced outwards. At its core he could see the armoured figure of Zarahel, sword protruding from his chest, waving his arms and chanting, fighting desperately to control the energies of his disrupted spell. The explosion seemed to somehow reverse, and be drawn back inwards. Either the mage was succeeding or something else was happening. Yagga was much smaller now. Even as Rik watched, he flickered and vanished like the blown out flame of a candle.

Rik was all out of bombs. He looked around. Leon lay sprawled on the floor, a massive wound in his side. Weasel was plunging his bayonet repeatedly into the weak points of an Ultari. Rik reached for his belt and drew his pistol. This was it, his last trick, a truesilver bullet he had purchased from Karl. It was inscribed with elder signs. Rik hoped that it worked as well as the bombs. He raised the gun.

Rik took careful aim and squeezed the trigger gently, sending the ball flying directly towards his target. It caught the mage in the forehead and sent him crumpling backwards. The energies swirled once more, their flow reversed, forming a vortex that had started to draw Uran Ultar back into whatever hell world he had emerged from.

The Ultari raced away as if scared the portal would suck them in too. Wind whipped Rik’s hair. He fought against the suction, trying to walk away from it, and as suddenly as it came it was gone.

Pain blazed through Zarahel’s brain. He felt the power flow from him. He felt the spark of sentience Uran Ultar had awakened in his children die out. He felt something else, as the portal closed. Something was drawn from him, upwards and outwards, heading towards the gate. His last deadly realisation was that it was his soul.

The vortex vanished and Uran Ultar with it. There were only a few of the Ultari left. Unfortunately, thought Rik, at this moment, it looked like that few would be enough. There were less than a dozen Foragers on their feet now and the spider demons could finish them at their leisure.

He unslung his rifle, fixed his bayonet and waited for the end to come.