The Keeper clapped two hands together, and Hunter winced. Basically, the demon had slapped one eyeball against the other. Hunter wondered if it hurt the pilfer as badly as Hunter imagined.
Probably not. Demons don’t have to be like humans. It probably doesn’t even have nerve endings there. Maybe it doesn’t have nerve endings anywhere.
Hunter’s mind reeled at the insight. Demons would be difficult to kill if they couldn’t even feel pain. The lesser tiers of monsters had clearly experienced agony. Lack of pain might separate the lesser tiers from the upper. Hunter didn’t know enough about the Infernal Horde to make any real conjecture.
Still, the effect was impressive. Green fire exploded in between the demon’s palms and then shot up into the air like an emerald funeral pyre. At the epicenter, night was turned to verdant day, and a beacon was spread into the sky.
“There, that should bring the tieflings running. We’ll see your family soon, Vessel.”
Hunter sighed. He felt like he had been doing that a lot lately. He returned to the boulder he had been sitting on before the demon arrived and decided to wait patiently. There wasn’t much else for him to do.
He didn’t have to wait long. Within ten minutes, three tieflings were crashing through the underbrush. To Hunter’s enhanced hearing, they sounded like a circus of angry bears. They didn’t have any proficiency with stealth. It was no wonder that Hunter had been able to raid the Outpost like a grim reaper. His skills were perfectly suited to sneaky ambushes. He only wished that he had more durability.
Hunter glanced over at the demon and couldn’t help but wonder how they would stack up if he faced the monster in a one-on-one deathmatch.
Probably not very well. The monster keeps displaying more powers that I don’t know about.
Aquila must have sensed Hunter’s unease.
Patience, manling. We’ll deal with the black-hearts and the black-souls when the time comes. Rest and recover your strength. We’ll strike when they least expect it.
Hunter knew it was sound advice, but he couldn’t help stiffening when the pilfer moved closer to him and grinned widely like a prowling shark.
“They’ve arrived.”
Sure enough, three figures entered the small clearing that Hunter had occupied before summoning the pilfer.
They warily drew closer, and upon seeing Hunter, the teenager’s grandparents unease morphed into casual arrogance.
“So, you’ve survived, boy?”
Hunter just shrugged at his grandfather. “For now.”
The demon studied the gathering with two outstretched palms. “Vessel, you only have trouble killing your grandparents, yes? Rid us of the baggage.”
Hunter slid off of the boulder and fell into a throwing stance. With a thought, black wind crowned the tip of his spire, and he launched the projectile. It crashed into the tiefling’s chest and pinned his corpse to the ground behind him.
Blair and Hank looked on with a mixture of shock and anger as Hunter casually strode over to the dead tiefling and retrieved his staff.
“You!” Hank spluttered. “You’re the one that killed everyone in the Outpost!”
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Hunter shrugged and began draining the corpse of its life-force to condense a soul gem. When the process was finished, he straightened and turned to face his grandparents.
“Yes, the Great One ordered their deaths.”
Hunter tilted the tip of his staff toward his grandparents. “He also ordered your deaths as well, but I’ve refused.”
It was interesting to watch the flood of emotions that crossed Hank’s face. Confusion was replaced by anger before being consumed by fear. Hunter noted that there wasn’t a shred of familial affection to be found. Meanwhile, Blair’s mouth was drawn into a flat line, and her eyes were flicking between Hunter and the pilfer. Hunter admired her bearing. He wasn’t sure that he could be so calm in the face of imminent death.
“Yes,” the pilfer interjected. “The Vessel has refused his quest. It leaves me in something of a bind. You two, come here.”
There was no malice to the demon’s voice. He sounded perfectly rational and genial. Despite the tone, Hunter’s grandparents were unwilling to venture closer. Hunter ignored them and returned to his boulder. He had no desire to play a part in the farce. Either the pilfer was going to kill them, or he was going to let the Keeper decide as he promised.
“Maybe you misheard me, slaves. I said, come here.”
This time there was no compromise in the demon’s voice. Blair and Hank rushed forward like their legs were working without their minds telling them what to do. For all Hunter knew, that might be the case. He had already experienced how overwhelming infernal influence could be. If his grandparent’s reactions were anything to go by, they still retained enough of their individuality to resist the pilfer’s compulsion. The pilfer noticed it as well.
“It seems that stubbornness runs in the family. Well, I’ll fix that.”
When Hunter’s grandparents were within striking range, the demon clapped a hand on each of their hands. Flames of Avarice spread from the demon’s palms and bathed the two tieflings in spectral fire. Unlike Hunter’s baptism in fire, the two tieflings didn’t scream or look like they were uncomfortable. If anything, their frowns transformed to smiles, and their fear was replaced by serenity. The pilfer kept pouring on the heat until the two tieflings were practically shivering in ecstasy. Hunter found the entire process disturbing.
Finally, the flames cut out, and the demon removed his hands from the two tieflings. They stared up at the pilfer like he was Christ returned. There was worship in their gaze as their eyes lingered on the demon’s golden accouterments.
“Can we go now?” Hunter’s tone was bored. It was a disguise for the fear and disgust that he was feeling.
The pilfer hunched its body in the approximation of a nod.
“Of course, I think our guests are perfectly willing to join us. Aren’t you?”
“We’ll go anywhere,” Hank breathed.
“What do you need from us, Lord?” Blair asked at the same time.
Hunter shivered at their change of personality. He remembered how he felt in the Keeper’s fortress. He had thought the garish colors were beautiful, the emerald flame enchanting, and the demons to be elegant, perfect creatures. His grandparents were even more affected than Hunter was. He chalked up the difference to his higher Willpower, and the protections afforded him by his bloodline and the damaged visage.
He jumped off of the boulder and landed on a cushion of wind. It wasn’t necessary, but Hunter wanted to take every moment of practice that he could get. The pilfer shot him a considering look but didn’t comment on the display of power.
“Let us leave,” it commanded before scuttling off on its crab-like legs.
Hunter mutely followed the demon and his grandparents trailed after them. Hunter looked over his shoulders and saw the tieflings watching him with a measure of distaste writ on their features. He turned away and sighed. In comparison to the pilfer, Hunter probably looked like an unwashed peasant. Their greed-addled brains probably couldn’t figure out why he was elevated above them.
Hunter realized that he had already stopped thinking of them as his grandparents. They were like drug addicts who had reached the point of no return. They didn’t realize how their actions affected their families, yet the people who loved them viewed them as forces of nature rather than the people they used to be. They were simply a mechanism of addiction. The power and the greed had overridden all sense of individuality or consideration for the bigger picture.
It didn’t make Hunter feel angry. On the contrary, he was sad. They were a symbol of a time long gone. Hunter had never been able to rely on them to help him or his mother. Now, that separation had been further enhanced. He was well and truly alone.
As he thought that, the soft flapping of wings could be heard from high above them. Hunter smiled.
Well, not completely alone.
He was descending into the maw of the Rift Keeper to win his freedom and escape from the tangled mess of the Rift. All he had was his staff, his companion, and the half-baked plan from the Sentinel. He hoped it would be enough. It would have to be enough.