Neil Skaren glanced at the hourglass placed by the King. He gritted his teeth. His plan had been perfect. It had all gone wrong as soon as Roland had shown up. He had been too arrogant in thinking the demons could stop the Cutter.
He should have been ready to take a more active hand from the outset.
Now he was trying to deal with both Roland and the King. Maybe he should stop and make his way out of the underworld. He could return to reality, and let Roland and the King fight it out to see who would rule the wasteland.
He had all the time in the world to come up with a better plan to get into the Eternal Court and place an aspect of the world under his control.
He didn't have to continue this battle if he could get away from the fight and walk away while his enemies tried to kill each other.
Skaren admitted that walking away would require that he fight his way across the room and out the door he had entered. His other option was blasting a hole through the roof. He wasn't sure that would succeed.
It was time for him to stop playing around as long as the King was still on his side.
Skaren swept his arm in a line in front of him. A cut in the air flew at his enemy. Once he was done with Roland, he might have to kill the King too so he could leave in peace.
Part of the floor intercepted the cut. It split along the diagonal line of Skaren's attack. The top piece flew at the magician as fast as lightning. He summoned a giant hand to catch the piece of stone.
Grolus swung one of his giant fists at Roland. The wind of its passage brushed against Skaren. The hero caught the fist, and the mass pushed him backward for a second. Then he braced himself and forced the fist to a stop.
Skaren punched the air. His giant hand flew at Roland. The spell work missed as the target ducked the giant load.
Roland leaped as Grolus pulled his fist back for another swing. He brought his fist down on the king's clawed foot. The demon hopped around on his flattened foot. Roland turned and swung a fist at the other leg. Breaking bone snap filled the chamber, followed by the giant's cry of pain.
Skaren wanted to take advantage and kill the king now that he was at a disadvantage. He decided not to so he could make a new deal down the road. He could still use the demons for a new plan as long as he abided by the contract he had already made.
And Roland was more dangerous, and unreasonable. He would never make a deal with Skaren. There was too much past bad blood for them to come to a deal.
That bad blood was why Skaren had picked the Cutter as his target for his plan. Why pick someone inclined toward you, or neutral to you, when you had someone you could burn up that you hated?
And there just wasn't many more of the Brotherhood walking around. Most of the demigods had died during the war, or on adventures afterward.
Skaren brought the giant fist around to try to knock Roland away from Grolus. He had to look like he was trying to do something until the sands in the hourglass finally filled the bottom chamber.
After that, it was every man for himself, and the devil could take the hindmost.
Roland pulled the crippled demon in the way of the rock. The stone hit Grolus's forehead and bore a hole through it. He stepped back, releasing the body to fall to the floor of the chamber.
One of the demon's tails burned away as Roland swept his hands against each other.
“Looks like it's just and me, Neil,” said Roland. “Made your peace with the gods yet?”
“I'm going to kill you, Roland,” said Skaren. “I'm going to rip you apart before I leave here. And then I am going back to our reality and doing whatever I want without you around to try to stop me.”
Stolen story; please report.
“I'm ready whenever you are,” said the strongman.
Skaren gestured. The stone floor of the chamber gathered itself into a giant to match the fallen demon on its back. It glared down at the Cutter. Brick hands turned into brick fists as it stomped toward its target.
It swung at Roland as soon as it was close enough. He stepped out of the way of the swings. The golem was still slower than he was.
Grolus groaned and sat up. He started to get to his feet. Eight tails flickered around him as he turned his attention on his enemies.
“Resurrection, eh?,” said Roland as he ducked the swings of the golem. “That's nifty.”
“Time's up,” said Grolus. He swung a giant fist at Skaren.
The magician raised his shield as the ebony hammer whipped through the air. He flew into the wall. The shield collapsed as stone from the roof crashed down.
“Now it's just you and me, and this enspelled servant,” said Grolus. He picked up the golem in both hands. He brought it down on Roland. He stepped back. “Now, it's just me.”
Grolus's wolf ears flickered on the side of his skull. He looked around. A sound had invaded his space. What was making it?
The stone that had collapsed on Skaren turned into a storm of spears. They stabbed into Grolus, two going through his head. He fell over. Another tail burned as the spears broke into small pieces.
“If time's up, I don't need you any more, do I?,” said Skaren.
Skaren shook his head. There might have been a way to cut another deal before Grolus had slammed him into the wall. Now he had to content himself with the fact both of his enemies were dead and out of his way.
The magician took stock of himself. His natural resilience was boosted by his command of magic. He could feel the wounds he had received healing in the seconds since he had dealt with his former partner. Soon he would be back to his normal self.
He would have to climb out of the pit he was in and reach the summoning circle. Then he could cross over. He would have to send his followers away and deal with the demons killing the people. He might be able to convince them to follow him for the chance to eat more people.
He imagined the gods would be sending their clerics to look for him when he returned to the mortal world. He was fine with that. There was no cleric around who could best his mastery of magic. He would chew them up while he put together a new plan to accomplish his goal.
He definitely was not involving any of the Brotherhood in his next plan. He had learned his lesson about that.
He would find some other fulcrum to get what he wanted.
He looked at his golem. It had been ripped in two by Grolus. He wondered if he should fix it so it could help while he conserved his magic until he needed it. He doubted the demons were going to give him a free passage.
Grolus groaned. He rolled over and boosted himself to one knee. He smiled at Skaren. The magician didn't smile back at his former partner.
“We're not finished yet,” said the king of demons. “I'm the only one claiming victory today.”
“Ride the wind,” said Skaren. He whipped his arm around him. A tornado grabbed the loose rock from the battle and slammed it against Grolus in a fusillade of stone shards.
Grolus swung through the cascade. His hand wrapped around Skaren. He started to squeeze the magician.
Skaren realized he was dead. He couldn't summon his magic with his arms pinned to his side. The tornado hit the wall and collapsed. That wouldn't help him. Pain shot through his body as the hand kept closing around him. He had killed so many and now he was going to die.
No one would even know.
He refused to give up. There had to be a way to get out of this. There had to be something he could do.
He glanced at the fallen golem. He had a chance. He gestured with his hand. The destroyed golem leapt up, summoning rock to form its body. It punched Grolus in the face as he turned his head to look at it.
Skaren fell to the floor. He tried to catch his breath. He was back in the game. Now he had to make some winning moves. He slammed both hands against the floor. More golems answered his call.
Grolus had wanted a fight. Now he had one.
Skaren summoned more and more golems as Grolus punched each one away as fast as he could. The magician nodded when he thought he had enough to act as a screen for his actions. The stone men were in the demon's face, attracting all of his attention.
Now for part two of his battle plan.
Skaren spread his arms out wide. He grabbed the stone in the walls with his magic. He brought his hands together.
Thousands of spears struck from all directions. They pierced Grolus. The demon groaned as he was held up by the stone spikes protruding from the walls. He glared at the magician until the fire went out of his eyes, and another tail burned away.
Some of the golems had been pierced in the same attack. They just stopped moving on the spears.
“You should have made a new deal,” said Skaren. “Then I could have went back to the material world and left you in charge of the recruiting process here. Instead you forced me to deal with you fatally.”
“Yeah,” said Roland. “That was totally inconsiderate of him. The fink.”
Skaren turned at the voice, raising a hand. A fist hit his shield and sent him through the forest of spears holding Grolus in place.
Roland shrugged out of his torn coat. He dropped his tie on top of it. Blood dripped from his face as he rolled up the sleeves of his torn shirt.
“I was retired and avoiding trouble,” Roland said. “All I wanted was to live without having to hurt people. Thanks for ruining that for me, Neil.”
He started forward.
“You should have left well enough alone.”