Chloe led Garrick through the town to the place she'd seen in her vision. Her eyes were red and puffy from crying, and her body was still trembling with emotion.
"This is the spot," she said when they stopped at the end of the alley. "This is where that piece of shit snatched her."
She paced up and down as Garrick crouched low and inspected the spot.
“There’s no blood anywhere and the traces of magic are faint.” he said. "You sure this is the place?”
"Yes, I'm sure!” she felt another bout of tears coming on. “The bastard took my sister. We need to get her back!" Chloe said with such passion that her voice cracked.
Garrick stood up and rummaged through the pouch on his belt and drew out a small leather sack.
"What are you doing?" asked Chloe.
Garrick opened the sack and poured a pinch of white powder into his hand.
"Salt blessed by the mother," he said.
“What’s it for?”
Garrick drew a wide circle of salt on the cobblestone street all around the spot where Malice had been standing.
"Our protection. No demon can escape this circle."
Chloe frowned. "How do we know he will return to this spot?"
"We don't.” he hesitated for a moment, as if he was deciding what to say. “When I was younger, I studied under Belgemine the Wax Witch. That was before I joined the order. There is a spell I learned- a way to send a demon an invitation."
"An invitation," said Chloe in disgust.
“There is no way to force Malice to return. But if we move fast, this trace of magic might be enough for me to send him a message.”
“Why would he bother to come?”
"Demons are arrogant. If he gets the message, he will come, if only to kill those who have called to him.”
“Shouldn’t we call the rest of the Talamasca?”
“I have sent Frostbeak to the Fifth Order, but these magical traces are fading quickly. If we can summon him now, the salt binding might be enough to hold him until reinforcements arrive.”
“Do it,” said Chloe. “This might be our only chance.”
Garrick nodded and drew his dagger. Without hesitation, he sliced it cleanly across his palm.
The scent of his blood washed over her. It was different to the human blood she’s smelt before-almost richer.
Is that because he can use magic?
Garrick didn't notice the hungry look on her face. He knelt down and drew six symbols inside the circle of salt and a seventh symbol in the center.
“What do they mean?” asked Chloe. She had never seen writing like that before. They reminded her of the hieroglyphics she’d seen in history books, but there were also strange looking letters around the pictures he drew.
“Silence. I need to concentrate.”
Chloe held her breath as he pressed his bleeding palm against the ground and drew the lines connecting the seven symbols together.
He closed his eyes and Chloe waited with bated breath. After a while, he opened them.
"Nothing," he said.
Chloe shook her head. "Are you sure?"
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"There's no response to my summons."
She looked down at the bloodied symbols and then back up to Garrick. "I can't give up so easily. I have to keep looking."
"Maybe your vision was wrong."
The wind stirred and tossed Chloe's hair. She stepped aside and watched it blow and swirl debris in a slow dance. A streetlamp flickered a short distance down the road, but still there was no response.
"Please, I have to know," she whispered. "If my vision was wrong, then—"
She trailed off as the wind picked up suddenly. It shifted violently and blew straight toward the salt circle. Chloe heard a distant crack and the sound of something snapping.
She took a step back and watched as a large piece of wood flew into the air and smashed against a nearby roof. The flames of the streetlamps turned electric blue and flared brightly into the night sky like a beacon.
She turned to run, but found herself face-to-face with a dark figure standing between her and the open street. An aura of darkness surrounded the newcomer. He stood motionless and silent, as if he were made of mist. His eyes burned with an inner light, and Chloe felt her chest tighten as he stared deep into hers. She froze and stared back just as intently.
"Who are you?" Garrick shouted over the sound of the wind.
"I am Malice, the firstborn," came the calm reply from his lips. “And the harbinger of those to come.”
An intense pressure fell upon them, like a mighty hand was pressing them into the ground. Chloe gasped as pain shot through her body. She could feel it in her bones, her muscles, and even her teeth. She wasn't used to pain in this new body, and the sensation was overwhelming.
Garrick struggled to stand, but couldn't move. His arms snapped and blood poured from his ears, nose and eyes.
"Where’s my sister?" shouted Chloe.
Malice stared at her quizzically. "There is something familiar about you.” He shook his head. “A lesser zombie possessed of twin souls and an Order whelp. A puzzle I would love to pick apart, but alas, I have more important tasks to attend to this night."
Garrick groaned and tried to sit up, but another wave of power forced his face further into the stone and more bones snapped under the pressure.
"Curse you foul demon," he said through gritted teeth.
The corner of Malice’s lip twisted in a smile. “So much arrogance in one so ignorant of the world. I am no demon, I am the first son of the goddess you serve.”
Malice raised his hands to the sky, and Garrick's body rose up like a puppet. He gestured, and the Crimson Hunter drifted over the ground and stopped before him.
"Your light flickers with uncertainty," said Malice. "Your mind is divided, and your resolve is weak. I will extinguish your light, so only the darkness remains.”
Malice extended a finger and in one swift movement he thrust it into the Crimson Hunter’s right eye.
Garrick screamed in gut curdling agony as black runes of power spread out of Malice’s finger and crawled across his face.
Blood and fluid poured from the wound as Malice spoke again. "So easily extinguished."
Garrick’s lifeless body hit the ground, and a cry went up from a nearby rooftop.
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A rift split the ground beneath Malice’s feet, and he plummeted into the darkness and vanished.
Chloe shook Garrick and his head rolled loosely from side to side and blood flowed freely from his eye socket. He was dead.
A crossbow bolt whizzed past her head and slammed into the wall behind her.
Chloe looked up at Talasin. The apprentice stood atop the roof of the tallest building with a crossbow in his hand. He began to load the crossbow again.
Chloe hesitated for a moment. She looked down at Garrick’s lifeless body. “I'm sorry,” she whispered, and then she turned around and fled.
A second crossbow bolt streaked past her, but she didn't look back.
The city guards shouted at her to stop, but she ignored them and kept running, even as hot tears streamed down her face.
Garrick had trusted her, and now he was dead. She flung guards aside, careful not to injure any of them, and then she passed through the city gates and out into the countryside.
Hours passed. The forest gave way to marsh lands and the hard earth became thick mud. Her zombie form gave her inhuman strength, but with each step she took, her arms grew weaker and her legs faulted.
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The sun rose over the nearby mountain range and the sky brightened to a blinding white. As the sun climbed higher, the air became warmer and Chloe struggled to keep moving. She’d had enough of all the pain, all the suffering. She just wanted to lie down and sleep and wake up at home in her bed.
She dragged one foot after another through the mud and was about halfway across the marshlands when she heard a strange noise ahead.
At first, she thought it was voices. She moved silently through the mud and reeds until she reached a small clearing and found herself looking upon a cliff face with a small cave.
She entered the cave and stared at the source of the noise. It was a waterfall that fell at the back of the cave and ran into an underground river. The water was clear and cool. Chloe had no need for drinking, but she cupped her hands in the water and washed her face and tired body.
She laid down on her side in silence, gazing at the water. She thought of her sister and Cassadin dying to save them, and of the man she had killed and the dead bodies she’d devoured. And then she remembered the look on Talasin’s face as his Master lay dead at her feet.
“So much blood and death,” she murmured.
Her hands began to tremble, and her breathing grew heavier. It felt like she was being dragged into a deep pit of despair that she’d never escape from. She curled into a ball and held herself tight and cried.
As she lay there sobbing, she heard the faint scuff of stone. She turned and looked towards the entrance of the cave and saw two glowing eyes staring back.
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