Lady of Poison

CHAPTER 20

Gunggari was done with using his dizheri as an instrument; he gripped his weapon in both tattooed hands and swung with a vengeance. The blows did little to slow Eschar’s fury.

The elf hunter waded in, ready to try Dymondheart against a foe mightier than any she had before faced. As she closed on the demon, a light like the sun illuminated her and her blade, as if the daylight above had decided to ignore the intervening forest and rocky floor.

The demon flinched, focusing all its attention on Elowen, and snarled, “You have a potent weapon. I think FU kill you before you figure out how to really use it.”

A clawed hand flashed out, as if to pluck the blade from Elowen’s grasp, but she fell back, dragging the length of Dymondheart across Eschar’s extended forearm. Where the blade touched, the skin peeled back, revealing an inky blackness. Eschar howled.

With its unflayed arm, the demon formed a great fist and pivoting its entire body, delivering a stunning hook to the side of Elowen’s head. The light surrounding Elowen flared up, became for an instant blinding, then faded to nothingness. Elowen, Eschar, and Gunggari stood for a moment, blinking, in the sudden return to near darkness natural to the tunnel. Of them all, Elowen was most surprised by her continued upright posture; by all rights, she should be splattered across the tunnel wall.

Eschar growled, said, “Already learned a few things, eh? Not enough!”

It lunged again, completely ignoring Gunggari, whose efforts were becoming frenzied. Elowen brought up Dymondheart; it seemed strangely dull and heavy. No light played along its length. Whatever it had just done to save Elowen from the demon’s first blow had exhausted the blade’s elan.

Eschar didn’t at first recognize Dymondheart’s lowered vitality, and despite his tough words, he seemed oddly tentative for such a hulking atrocity. The demon threw just a few quick, probing attacks that Elowen managed to deflect aleng the length of her disturbingly heavy blade.

Eschar’s single-minded attention on the elf hunter finally paid off for Gunggari. The tattooed warrior wound up then swung, putting all the weight of his body behind the blow. The edge of his dizheri connected squarely under Eschar’s jaw with a sound that could only herald breaking bone. Eschar’s scream was high and piercing.

Ususi finally made her presence known, too. She had studied the fight, trying to gauge which of her powers might be most effective. Not completely unschooled in the ways of demons, the wizard knew that evils as obviously potent as Eschar were often resistant to magical attack. What would blast a mortal foe into a stain of blood and splintered bone might wash off a demon of Eschar’s caliber like rain.

She could change the environment itself with her craft, which was something even powerful demons had to contend with.

Ususi drew the Wand of Citrine Force, drawing a glowing yellow symbol in the air. As she “inked” the last stroke of the symbol, it pulsed once then sped unerringly at Eschar. At the last second Eschar looked up, his eyes widening, but the symbol was upon him. Moments before touching the demon’s flesh, the symbol flashed into a thick, billowing puff of icy vapor. The demon tried to backpedal, but the vapor enveloped him completely. An instant later, the vapor froze solid, creating a disquieting, asymmetrical block of yellow ice in which Eschar was caught like a fly in amber.

The Queen Abiding wasn’t the only demon bound by cold below Dun Tharos.