Alexander Quin held the alley against his enemies. His sword sent demon after demon to ash as he slowly backed up. The narrowness of the battlefield gave him the advantage for the moment.
He ignored the rain of swords that fell down on the demons from above. He had thought the clerics had abandoned him. He should have known better. Hundred to One had gained a rooftop and used that to direct her grant down on top of the army of demons.
He didn't see what had happened to Forty Two. That didn't mean anything. The other masked fighter was loose against the demons, or dead. That was a certainty.
“Hello,” said a voice out of the air. Alexander glanced up. A giant woman of light loomed above the alley. She smiled down on the city. “My name is Andrea Kind, magician of the Golden Circle. I want you to know that any demons within the sound of my voice are going to be destroyed. I want you to know things will be fine, because we're here now. Clerics, get ready. Say the words.”
Other voices spoke. Images appeared, but they weren't as clearly defined as the woman calling herself Andrea. Alexander recognized the prayer for banishment. He had heard it often enough when he had been battling enemies with the Brotherhood. The demons recognized the prayer too. Some of them tried to flee from the chanting.
Light flowed across the sky. Alexander stepped back. The demons in front of him blasted apart as the wave filled the air with the touch of his grandfather. He smiled slightly.
Andrea fell to one knee. Her hair resembled fire. She put one hand down to keep from falling over.
“Do it again,” she said. “We need to kill as many of them as we can.”
A second wave covered the area. Alexander put his sword away. He doubted any of the demons remained after that double push. If they did, they were tougher than the normal demon.
“How fare you, friend?,” called down Hundred to One. Her hair had broke free from its restraints.
“I think we won,” said Alexander. “All that's needed now is checking the city for any demons that weren't caught by what we just saw.”
“I don't know if I'll be allowed to stay for that,” said Hundred to One. “The master always has somewhere for us to be. War is our passion.”
“Avri Noll is a harsh mistress,” said Forty Two. Blood streaked his yellow and orange striped shirt. “I will be able to take a day to heal.”
“We should see how our brothers and sisters have done,” said Hundred to One.
“We should,” said Forty Two. “I think I will have to wait on that before I can join you.”
Alexander turned on his minute of control. He reversed the wound as much as he could. It was enough to stop the bleeding as far as he could see. The cleric would have to be checked for poisons before he was clear of danger.
Being able to heal injuries was useful, but some things not even time could help.
“I think the clerics of Mogin Farn did the banishment that we saw,” said Alexander. “Their clerics can heal wounds. I think we should see if they have someone that can help you.”
“That's a lot of thinking,” said Forty Two. He checked his wound. It was hard to tell if he was surprised by the partial closing. “Still, they seem to be the center of any rescue effort we may have to undertake.”
“And we might attract any surviving demon who might want to stop us from walking through town,” said Alexander. “And once you are looked at, I can return to my cabin and get some sleep.”
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“I am tired,” said Forty Two. “It will be good to shelter under protection for a bit and get a nap if I can.”
“Sleep is for the weak,” called down Hundred to One. “A real representative of Avri Noll should be able to fight around the clock without needing anything but a cup of soup and a thimble of water.”
“I will be glad to forfeit my share of the glory for a bit of sleep and some fried eggs,” said Forty Two.
“Let's go,” said Alexander. “We'll help anyone we stumble over, but you both need to be taken care of so you can be effective, and I need to know that I can stop fighting if the city is able to defend itself. It's time for me to return to my solitude.”
“I guess we can spare a few minutes to see where we need to be the most,” said Hundred to One.
“Thank you for allowing this respite,” said Forty Two. He looked down at his shirt. “I'll never get the stain out of this.”
“You can get a new shirt that isn't so ugly,” said Alexander.
“Never,” said Forty Two. He shook the striped rag at Alexander. “I have had this shirt as long as I have had my mask. It has seen me through countless fights. It's almost like an old friend. I can't discard it now. That would be like throwing my sword away.”
“Sometimes you have to throw your sword away too,” said Alexander. He walked out of the alley. He put his sword away. He would have to clean and sharpen it when he was done with things.
“I would rather eat a rock,” said Forty Two. He put his own sword away. His mask had a few cracks in it. Apparently he had taken a few blows to his face from the mob.
“That's up to you,” said Alexander. He looked around. The sky had lightened as the time before predawn approached. The sun would rise over the edge of the world and hope would return to the survivors of the long night.
Hundred to One appeared on the street. She pirouetted in place. Her jacket had scorch marks on it, but her clothes looked clean otherwise.
“Let's see if anyone is alive in the Watch barracks before we move on,” said Alexander. “Then we can walk down to the temple of Mogin Farn and see what they are doing.”
“The demons probably ate all of them,” said Hundred to One.
“Let's check before we assume they are all dead,” said Alexander. “There might be someone alive who can go around and check on the local people.”
He walked to the gate and knocked on it. He listened to movement inside the walls. He heard the rattling of weapons being readied.
“Who's out there?,” demanded a voice. Alexander thought it was the commander who had his forces unleash arrows at the demon horde.
“Alexander Quin and two clerics of Avri Noll,” said Alexander. “Are you okay in there?”
“There was some demons but that light killed them,” said the voice. “We took some heavy losses.”
“The sun will be coming up soon,” said Alexander. “Can you hold on until then? The city will have to decide how to clean everything up when enough people have got together to figure out what to do.”
“I think we can hold on until we get some more people come to help out,” said the commander. “We'll need to take care of our dead.”
“We're going to move on then,” said Alexander.
He started down the street. He glanced at the ash covering the street ahead of him. Someone would be busy just sweeping the black remnant up so it didn't just make people sick walking on it.
Shutters opened. He saw faces peering down at him as he walked toward the center of town. Had the clerics of Mogin Farn killed every demon in the city walls? He doubted that.
He wondered at the effort invoked and felt that Roland had armed one of the clerics with one of the ancient god words from the war. It would be like the Cutter to hand a weapon like that to ordinary people who couldn't handle the results.
On the other hand, there was no telling what Roland had been doing on the ground since this thing started if he had taken part in the battle at all.
Alexander wondered how much help he would give to the city. He had fought a multitude of demons, but he didn't think he would be any good with cleaning up. He decided that he should do something. Someone would need a strong arm to help out. He doubted that the demons had left everything intact as they chased after their victims.
The least he could do would be to help clean out the dead in the temple of his father. He hadn't talked to the old god in centuries. This was the first time he had sent an emissary to draw his son out.
He wondered what had happened to Macomber. The ghost had vanished sometime during the fighting. He might have just overstayed his time as a messenger.
He led the way back to the temple of Sar. The demons had overwhelmed the clerics before they could use their grants. They had been slaughtered to the boy and girl novices. He paused at the gates to look at the hourglass symbol of his father.
“Could you two wait for me out here?,” asked Alexander. “I have something to do. I'll only be a minute.”
“Go ahead,” said Hundred to One. “We have time for a visit.”
She waved her hand at him.
He smiled, the scars on his face wrinkling. He stepped inside the gates. A flare followed for a few seconds. He returned as the flare faded away.
“Let's go find some clerics that need never do wells like ourselves,” he said.
The trio started walking again.