Dearbhaile grabbed her sister’s arm as she pointed over the cliff where they’d discovered an army of demons clashing with one of mortals. Despite the distance, the discordant cacophony of demons screaming, and howls of pain and triumphant battle cries of the mortals reached their ears.

“Tha-that’s Carter. My Rishka be down there.”

“Really?” Líadan pried the other woman’s fingers from her forearm and let her gaze linger on the bright red imprints before flicking it to her sibling’s face. “How do you know?”

Dearbhaile raised her right eyebrow. “Are you serious?”

“Yes. Didn’t you say it had been six years since you last saw him?”

“Well, yeah, but… I’d still know him anywhere.”

“Again. How?”

“He be me Rishka. We be connected, like he be part of me.” As she spoke, the warm ember in her chest where her connection to him resided flared, comforting her as if he had his arms around her.

“Six years is a long time. Especially for a human.”

She put her hands on her hips. “What are ye trying to say, irmá máis vella?

“I’m saying that just because you’re still in love with him, doesn’t mean he’s still in love with you.”

‘Could Líadan be right?’ Dearbhaile ran her hand down the front of her robe, smoothing it as she pondered the question. She shook her head, red hair flying across her face and obscuring her jade eyes for a moment. “No, Carter wouldn’t — I mean, he’s still…” She shook her head. “He loves me. I’m sure of it.”

Líadan hugged her younger sister. “I’m sorry to do this to you, but you have to be prepared.”

The Keeper hugged her sister tighter, and then gently pushed away. “I know Carter. I have faith in him.”

“I’m glad. I hope you’re right.” Líadan nudged her shoulder into Dearbhaile’s. “Now, tell me why you’re certain he’s down there.”

“Yer Renline, same as me. How do ye not know what the Rishka be?”

“Knowing intellectually is different from knowing viscerally.” Líadan pulled her golden hair over her shoulder and smoothed it down as if it were a pet. A warm gust of wind ruffled her hair in spite of her strokes.

“It’s hard to explain in a different way than I did earlier.” Dearbhaile scratched her chin with a ragged fingernail. “Hmm. You know how a moth is drawn to a flame, or other source of bright light?” Líadan nodded. “It’s similar to that, except not destructive to me. He’s like an irresistible draw, and I have a longing to be with him. It’s more intense when he’s nearby.”

“But, is it real, or wishful thinking?”

“It’s real. No doubt. There’s a connection between us. I’m certain I could tell it was him, even if he were disguised.”

“That sounds like magic.”

“It is when he touches me.”

Her sister’s words were so low, Líadan almost missed them. “Have you two had sex?” She leaned forward with a smile.

Dearbhaile fiddled with the ends of her sleeves. “N-no.”

“Why not?”

“Th-that’s personal!”

Líadan snickered. “I never could understand how someone who liked sex so much found it so hard to admit it, or even to talk about it.”

Dearbhaile shoved her older sister’s shoulder. “I’m a private person.”

“Yeah, so private when you’d return from wherever you snuck off to with that Gorauch, you’d have bite marks on your neck, and your hair would be a tangled mess.” Líadan cackled. “To say nothing of how your clothes were in such disarray.”

“Shut it, you.”

Dearbhaile swung at her laughing sister, who ducked the half-hearted attack, and then kicked her legs out from under her.

The Keeper hit the ground and rolled across crunchy leaves, coming to her feet and throwing a ball of air at her big sister.

Líadan waved her hand and the ball changed direction, heading back to its caster. As it flew, it grew larger and burst into flames. It howled and crackled, leaving dancing shadows underneath it.

Dearbhaile raised her hand, palm out, and the fireball went out. Líadan applauded and a tremor raced through the plateau, knocking the women off their feet. They looked around, and then Dearbhaile wordlessly pointed to the edge of the cliff. A silvery purple light connected the sky to the ground.

The light flickered, and then detonated without a sound. The flash blinded them for a bit. Tears running from their eyes, both rubbed at the injured organs as a wall of hot wind nearly knocked them from their feet. Flying dust, twigs, rocks, and dead animals tore at their skin.

“What the hell was that, Dearbhaile? Did you see?”

Lowering her hands, she tried to blink away the after image of the column of light as water ran from her eyes. “No. All I saw was the shaft of light. How about you?”

“The same.” Líadan brought her hand down over her bloody face, releasing healing magic, and only feeling an icy blackness where her power had been. “Dearbhaile!”

Dearbhaile turned to the sound of her sister’s panicked scream and found her staring with bulging eyes and flaring nostrils. “What? What’s wrong?”

“My magic doesn’t work!” Líadan crumpled to the ground, sobbing.

###

As Carter cut down yet another demon, the ground shook beneath his feet, nearly toppling him. He leaped back as a noxious fume erupted from the newly formed crevice. As he watched, a heavily armored, gaunt giant with pointed ears and dark gray skin formed from the cloud. A sour, burnt stench wafted from the creature’s flesh, filling the air with the smell of scorched earth and rot. Its hands ended in long yellow claws, and its snarl showed sharp fangs. Still surrounded by a thin fog of swirling vapor which formed into tormented faces that screamed in terror and pain, it raised a tree trunk sized great sword and brought the weapon down with tremendous force.

Carter dove to the side and rolled to his feet as the giant lifted his blade for another assault. A glint from the corner of his eye was all the warning he had. He dropped to the ground, not even trying to duck the sword that hacked at the side of his neck. Quickly rocking onto his right side enabled him to dodge the giant’s attack.

He did a kip-up, bringing his own sword up to the side, blocking another swipe from the back. He spun to see his other assailant. This creature looked as though it was constructed from a grisly assortment of decaying human body parts, stitched and bolted together into a form the size of an ogre. It smelled faintly of freshly dug earth and dead flesh.

A whistle came from above him. Carter jumped to the side, and the huge sword of the giant smote the ground where he’d been standing, shaking the ground beneath his feet. He leaned back on his heels and the other creature’s sword kissed a line across the cuirass of his armor, peeling back the dark leather.

Carter then had to yank his arm close to his side as the giant’s sword came down again, almost cutting the limb off. ‘Shit that was close. Why am I so slow?’

He leaped over the attack that came from the flesh golem. ‘That one nearly took my legs. Bastard.’ He angled his sword to counterattack, but had to dive backward as a scythe came for his throat. He risked a peek over his shoulder.

The latest assailant was a muscular humanoid with thick, black-green skin, and stringy white hair. Its visage was reminiscent of a human skull with a prominent jaw. Large hands ended in long, thick claws. The scythe flew back into its hand and was then spun in a circle by a thin chain. The air whistled as the blade cut through it.

Carter threw his legs wide as the flesh golem’s sword buried itself in the dirt between them. He kicked the monster in the elbow, but nothing happened except a flash of pain in his foot.

This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it

He somersaulted backward and to his feet. Another flare of anguish made him stumble. The stutter-step almost cost him his life as the giant chopped at him again. Only a last second pivot away on his uninjured right foot saved him. He could almost feel the icy touch of death on its edge.

It did not save him from the cut above his hip. The tip of the sword parted the weakened seam of his leg armor and ran icy fire just above his left hip. Hot blood flowed from the wound and down his leg.

Off balance, he was unable to avoid the giant’s new attack: A simple kick. The force of the blow sent him through the air, directly at the dark-skinned Abyssal Assassin.

The demon grinned and thrust its claws forward, catching Carter in the right side of his chest. His head snapped forward with the force of his sudden stop. Two of his ribs snapped under the impact which knocked the wind out of him.

“We have at last killed you, Walker.” Its fetid breath washed over him from its sibilant hiss.

With the last of his energy, Carter slapped his hands to the sides of the demon’s head and sharply twisted it to the left. A meaty pop came to his ears as the Abyssal Assassin collapsed, dead, dragging Carter down with it. Its head rolled loosely under his hands before he released it to roll away from the carcass.

The still partially closed claws stuck in his chest stopped him with a blaze of agony. He could only groan with pain before slumping back. As he panted, the ground shook with the approach of the giant. ‘I gotta get up.’ Pushing up with his lead-filled arms left them shaking and him sweating from the pain. He gritted his teeth and pulled at the demon’s arm with his right hand.

Sweat dropped from the tip of his nose and plopped on the death rictus of the Abyssal Assassin. A mighty paw clamped down on the back of his neck and lifted him with ease. His throat nearly tore from the scream as the still flexed finger claws buried in his chest pulled downward from the weight of the corpse they were attached to. The tangy, metallic taste of blood filled his mouth, reminding him of how grim his injuries were.

A massive sword came hurtling towards his limp body. His fingers twitched, useless, as his weapon sat in the dust, too far away to be of any use.

He rose higher in the air. His eyes blinked shut. When they opened again, most of the Abyssal Assassin was on the ground beneath his dangling feet.

The giant bellowed its frustration at not being able to kill him. The stupid abomination continued to raise its prey above its swing. After several more attempts, the creature roared again and then hurled Carter away.

The Walker rolled on the ground, the embedded claws nearly making him faint. A glint of light caught his attention. ‘My sword.’ The blade rested about a foot away from his hand.

Despite knowing of his impending death, the grainy roughness of the churned earth beneath his hand as he slid it to the hilt reminded him he still had life left.

His fingers tightened on the worn smooth leather wrap of the sword’s hilt. ‘At least I can die with my hand on my sword.’

He flew through the air and slammed against a wall. When the stars faded, he spotted the flesh golem’s sword stabbing for his face.

With a desperate grunt, Carter slashed his weapon upward, severing the arm bringing death to him. The disembodied limb flew to the side and he was slammed against the wall once more.

The flesh golem placed the stump of its arm at the end of the Abyssal Assassin’s. Tendons and sinew wrapped around each other as tissue stitched itself together. The golem tested its new arm by flexing the claws stuck in his chest, drawing a scream.

When the claws were finally withdrawn from his chest, Carter fell to his knees. The blurry world dimmed before his eyes.

The flesh golem leered at the kneeling man and drew its arm back. Razor sharp claws raced with deadly intent for the back of his neck.

A column of silvery purple light rocketed into the sky, surrounding the Walker of Worlds as he knelt, waiting for death to claim him. It exploded without a sound, sending a shockwave through the air as the ground shook.

A gauntleted hand caught golem’s descending limb. An unyielding grip, stronger than steel slowly crushed the borrowed bones of the construct’s forearm.

Sable hair grew out and draped over his shoulders. When he slowly raised his head, the demons and construct saw electric blue eyes glowing out of a skull-like visage.

The being rose to its feet, Carter Blake long gone. Continuing to hold its arm outstretched above its head, the creature easily held the flesh golem in the air by the mangled hand.

A thrust of its hand against the construct’s upper chest disintegrated the sternum and launched the head into the air.

The demon’s breath hitched, its massive form shrinking back as shadows seemed to deepen around the creature. Its voice, usually a bellow, fell to a trembling whisper that cracked in the quiet “Duh-DarkWalker.”

Teeth flashed when the dark shadow of the Walker of Worlds grinned. “Yasssss.”

###

“What do ye mean, yer magic dinae work? Ye have blood magic.”

“Not anymore. I’ve tried to cast spells, but nothing works.” Líadan grabbed her sister’s upper arms. “I feel naked without my magic, Dearbhaile. I’m used to reaching for the warmth of it at my core, but when I reach for it, I feel an empty void.” She paused, tears running down her cheeks. “I-I’m scared.” The last bit was moaned.

The young Keeper stroked her sister’s forearms. “It’ll be okay, irmá máis vella.” She gently pulled herself free. “I think it is a Spell of Negation.” She pulled her sister into a hug, running her hands over her back.

“No.” Líadan shook her head against her sister’s chest. “It’s not that. I know the feel of that spell. This one is different.” She leaned back to gaze at her sibling.

“What?”

“Your heart is racing. Why?”

“What are you talking about?”

“Your pupils are dilated and your accent is gone.”

Dearbhaile waved off her comment and walked to the edge of the cliff. “I’m certain it came from down there.” She pointed at the distant battle. “Or, at least, that is the reason for whatever happened.” She cast her gaze over her shoulder. “You coming?”

“Coming where?” Líadan detected the tension in her sister’s shoulders. “No jumping down the cliff side! You’d not survive.” Her hand shot out and gripped the back of the azure robes Dearbhaile wore, yanking her back when she attempted to jump.

Dearbhaile whirled on her sibling. “What the fuck are you doing?”

“Saving your life.” She gestured at the valley floor, thousands of feet below. “You want to die that badly?”

“I would not die.”

“This is reckless even for you, querida irmá.”

Dearbhaile smiled. “No, it isn’t.”

“How would you survive?” Líadan leaned over the edge, taking in the rough cliff side. “Our magic is gone, remember?”

“Yours is.” Dearbhaile snapped her fingers and produced a warm flame. “Mine is not.”

“H-how is that possible?” Líadan stared hungrily at the fire.

“One of the things that separates Keepers from other Renline is our mastery of other types of magic.” She waved her hand and the flame disappeared, replaced by a flowering rose, the delicate scent mingled with the smell of the grass at their feet. “Magic from other worlds.” Another wave and the flower became a gleaming dagger. “This magic is called ‘Transmutation.’ It is the core of Alchemy.”

“How would this Alchemy allow you to survive that long fall?”

“Well, it wouldn’t be a fall. I would transmute the air into ice and slide down. Near the end of the slide, I’d thicken the air ahead of me into a cushion, bringing me to a gentle halt.”

“Why didn’t you demonstrate this power before?”

Dearbhaile shrugged. “I didn’t need to.”

“You didn’t need to?” Líadan scratched the back of her head. “Um, what about when Belial had captured you? Or when you were escaping? Or even to rescue Carter?”

Dearbhaile put her hands on her hips. “Okay, you have me there. Those would have been great times to do so.”

“Then why didn’t you?”

“It didn’t occur to me.”

Líadan clapped her right hand over her face and shook her head.

“I know, irmá máis vella. I feel like an idiot for not thinking of this until you pointed it out to me.”

“As well you should. How much did you miss out on due to forgetting your magic?”

Dearbhaile’s lips thinned. “No need to belabor your point, Líadan. I already conceded it.”

A sudden heaviness to the air interrupted the brewing row. The women froze, staring at each other before the shock of evil sent chills down their limbs.

“Tha-that’s guh-gotta be…” Líadan was unable to finish the thought.

Líadan waved her hands in a complex pattern and reached for her power. The lack of warmth was a shock to her system. ‘Oh, right. No magic.’ She swallowed, trying to dislodge the lump in her throat. ‘Sobbing won’t help us against this thing.’

The weight of the air was suffocating. She gasped for breath as a chill spread through her body and stole the sound from the air. The unholy force even made the sun dimmer.

“The DarkWalker.” Dearbhaile’s voice was a whisper as she trembled.

###

Lady Soo-jau lay on the ground, a huge rent in her side. Dark blood pooled on the shattered ground where it ran from the wound and filled cracks in the marble. Sparks of electricity jumped over it, not allowing any to approach her. Light from the broken wall caressed her fallen form as if the moon goddess Generys sought to comfort her.

The Primordial demon Pazuzu stood across from Adora, partially blocking the injured dragon from her view. He scooped a cowering guard from the ground and bit his head off. Blood ran over his hawk-like beak as he tilted his head back and swallowed the bite without chewing. His wings flared out, touching the opposite sides of the hall and then shot back, folded and trembling. His head jerked oddly and the oil from his wings dripped down the walls. Smoke rose from the trail of fluid as it ate into the stone. The hiss of melting stone melded with the faint crackle of electricity from Soo-jau’s blood.

‘Loan me your strength, mighty Kellün. This will be my last stand, but aid me in standing between this demon and my people as long as possible.’

‘Adora, my faithful servant.’

The familiar voice of her deity sounded… off. She straightened.

‘My lord?’

‘Protect the innocent.’

‘Why do you sound different?’

‘P-pay no mind to that.’

She got a flash of her god’s face with teeth clenched and lips peeled back and a sense of nausea and wheezing breaths.

‘Fuh-Focus on Pazuzu. Your only hope—’

The warmth of Kellün’s grace vanished, leaving behind only cold and stale air. She squealed and then clapped her hand over her mouth. Her skin tingled and she felt hot. ‘What just happened?’

“Something wrong?” Pazuzu’s cloying voice dripped with mockery. His beak clicked in some form of laughter.

She returned a grin as spring-time warmth ran through her body. Green filled her eyes, shifting from lime to emerald to apple, the colors casting shifting shadows over her cheekbones. A slight dizziness, as if she were a bit drunk made, her head spin. An irrepressible giggle built up and erupted from her core. The shadows the Primordial demon cast seemed to shrink back in pain.

“Oh, this is...” Her voice was bubbly, light, almost carefree as it trailed off.

‘I haven’t felt like this since Kellün chose me as his WarPriest. This is his divine favor.’

Her face flushed as an almost forgotten warmth suffused her body that reignited her spirit. Life itself pulsed through her being, reminding her of the purpose of her calling. All worry, anxiety and tiredness vanished from her.

She bounced on her toes before she shifted her stance to the unarmed style Carter said reminded him of one from his world.

Her arms were up, fists near her face. Her weight was balanced, right leg supporting her as her left was raised, knee level with her hips. Green light played over her fists, casting vibrant reflections onto the cracked walls, creating a contrast to the shifting shadows pooling around Pazuzu.