Spirit Past (Book 8) (36 page)

"Macheve," the sorcerer whispered to himself, and he finally saw a clear path for his own intentions.

Across the scorched and ashy ground, Holli never noticed the sorcerer's subtle change in focus. She needed to stop the darowks before they descended on Linda. Holli would have to leave Ansas to his own devices. Immediately, she called to the elf sorceress.

"Haven! Bring in light from another realm!'

Haven did not hesitate to cast the spell, as she had it prepared the moment they entered the bleak
existence. She utilized Enin's teleportation spell which kept them in a state of magical dispersion. With a portion of her magical essence existing in two realms at once, she was able to reach back into Uton. Through the force of her will, she pulled all the light she could gather into her essence. Like a spark that turns into a raging blaze, her body began to radiate natural light across the outer regions of Demonspawn.

The sight was astounding. Haven's glow far outshined the harsh lightning which continued to burst across the gray sky. While the bleak skies flickered with ruthless and stabbing flashes, the elf sorceress sparkled with joyous warmth. As one illumination met the other, Haven's radiance overwhelmed Demonspawn's angry flares and forced the fitful lightning back into the shadows above.

Ryson knew immediately what Holli intended. With light pouring out of the elf sorceress, he could use the radiance to fight off hundreds upon hundreds of darowks. He pulled the Sword of Decree from its sheath and raced headlong into the wall of gray smoke that rolled toward them.

Slashing unendingly at open air, the delver sent beams of enhanced purity toward the surging demons. His assault was in direct opposition to Demonspawn's display of convulsive illumination. Where the flashes of hostile lightning had been wild and violent, Ryson's attack remained methodical and precise. He directed the thin beam of light from his sword's point with absolute efficiency. The glow of his blade burned so intense that he forced the darowks into mass retreat.

Understanding the flow of movement far better than even demons of meager substance, Ryson countered the assault with twists and turns that left the darowks unable to gain any ground. He moved with a swiftness that exceeded his foes, and he offset their numbers with astounding intuition.

Even as he scattered one billowing collection of demons after another, he kept a wary eye out for other intruders. He understood he was more than the first line of defense against onrushing demons; he was the eyes and ears for all those who were there to protect Linda.

Racing over the open ground with an absolute determination to defend his wife, Ryson ran ever faster. He would not concede any ground to the darowks; even attempted to press them into the gray shadows, back into the deeper regions of Demonspawn.

He moved with both accuracy and incredible speed. With each turn, he pushed himself faster, harder. He became almost a blur as he used the open ground to his advantage and allowed the harsh environment to compel him forward.

His eyes constantly scanned the horizon in all directions. He looked to every mound and past any shadow. He searched for every possible obstruction and for any sign of additional demons. He listened intently for the snarls of larger fiends and more dangerous threats. He attempted to isolate every sound, to catch any hint of a surprise attack.

A strange echo caught his attention. It always seemed to be behind him. He swerved about, turned to the left and then the right, but he never caught sight of a demon in his wake. Still, the sound of trailing footsteps continued unabated.

Defending ground against the surging darowks remained his priority, but Ryson could not dismiss the trailing noise completely. If he was being followed, he could be thrown from his purpose. A well-coordinated surprise attack would be disastrous.

Trying to determine the extent of the danger, he tried to establish the distance at which any invisible predator might be lurking behind him. He honed in on the sound of his own footsteps and compared them to the strange clatter behind him. To his surprise, they matched almost exactly.

The similarity was too much to ignore. He couldn't believe he was simply hearing an echo, and he placed even greater attention on the trailing clamor.

Eventually, he obtained an absolute match by first listening to the sounds of his own motions and then allowing for a short pause before comparing them to the trailing echo.
While the following sounds did not match his current movements, they did correspond perfectly to his previous footsteps.

He was, in fact, hearing a resonance of his own movements, but it was not an ordinary echo. The sound was more of a memory, a reproduction of his previous motion. He was hearing his own history, sensing a past moment in time. It was as if he left more than just a trail in the fine powdered dirt, but a trace of sound as well.

The realization came almost immediately, and it was as clear as a drop of pure rain water. Demonspawn was not just a breeding ground for demons. It was also a collection of past events. He had heard several discussions among Ansas, Enin, and Jure. He listened to them speak about Reiculf's existence and his power. It finally all made sense to him.

Reiculf thrived on decisions already made, actions already taken, and apparently so did Demonspawn. In that realm, the present was not quite as important as the past. Ryson believed that time moved differently in the daokiln's realm, with history being a far greater influence than any potential act in the future. In Demonspawn, it was not as important to consider what
could
be done as opposed to what
had
been done.

In order to verify his belief, Ryson needed to ensure that he was not being followed by a demon, but by a shadow of himself. While still using his sword to press the darowks away from Linda, he allowed himself a brief moment to focus hard on his own trail. He continued to move, to race against the smoke demons, but as he did, he looked rigorously for a faint trace of something only his delver eyes might see.

The moment he caught the glimmer of an outline, his vision seized the image. As he increased his efforts to capture the full scope of the silhouette, he could not ignore the features which became more prevalent. He was indeed looking at himself, as if looking into a mirror that revealed an image reflected a heartbeat behind the present.

To his astonishment, he saw more than just a reflection of his physical presence. Within the elements of the past, he saw nearly everything there was to see about himself. He saw his body as well as an aura of his emotional state. He could see curiosity and determination painted across his face. He saw decisions reflected in his eyes, and he noted the consequences of each movement. He saw everything that encompassed his state of being, but it was still a representation of the past.

As his mind captured the full breadth of the lingering outline, he probed deeper. Cascading throughout the silhouette, he saw something just as amazing as the full embodiment of his whole person. He saw the essence of the magic within him.

It was colorless and without distortion, but within the confines of Demonspawn, it stood out like the morning dew on a bed of dark green grass. For the first time in his life, he could actually see the magic that made him who he was.

He had been told that magic was within him, but since he cast no spells, he always found it difficult to accept. He was a delver, and he placed great emphasis on what his senses could reveal. He wasn't sure if he wanted to believe in something he couldn't see, hear, smell, or even touch. Finally, he could sense it, see it through an image of the past caught in Demonspawn.

The essence of the magic was so spectacular and so stunning, he almost missed an even more inspiring vision. Within the confines of his reflection and separate from the magic, he saw the brilliance of his existence beyond his mortal body. Without the smallest doubt in his mind, he knew he witnessed his own soul, and the sight did what few other things could manage, it brought the delver to a full stop.

The silhouette faded almost immediately after he stopped moving, but the memory remained as sharp as if he could still reach out and touch it.

Ryson had seen spirits on previous occasions. Only a short time ago, he had seen the ghost of Sy Fenden. He had not yet come to grips with the incident, but he could not deny the reality of the occurrence. He could not even regard the experience as unique. If anything, the sight of spirits had become almost common to him.

Despite his past experiences, he could not ignore the importance of what was before him. He might have seen ghosts, even the spirits of close friends, but he had never put the concept in absolute personal perspective, never really considered what it might mean for him as well as every other inhabitant of Uton.

In Demonspawn, he could not avoid it. There was more to him than flesh and blood, more than even the delver magic that resided in his core. There was an essence of greater consequence, and while it was momentarily constrained to his mortal body, it would not stay there forever.

In witnessing the essence of his spirit in one small glimpse of his immediate past, his growing awareness captured the significance for what was yet to come. He saw beyond that single moment of history and deep into the passages of what could be. 

Understandably, his emotions swelled. He had been given a gift of immeasurable value. In a place filled with the suffering past—experiences of pain and sorrow—he saw his incredibly hopeful future. Magic might have changed the land into something that always seemed to extend beyond his senses, but it brought him to a place where he discovered proof of infinite possibilities, proof he had seen with his own eyes.

He would have loved to share that moment with his wife, but the thought of Linda brought him back to the deadly circumstances they faced. The future suddenly became that much more important to him, a future he wished to protect. As immensely difficult as it was, he pressed aside the magnificence of what he saw and refocused his efforts on stopping the darowks.

With a new perspective growing in his consciousness, the demons' smoky forms appeared much less foreboding and their paths of destruction seemed so utterly futile. The glory Ryson witnessed turned demons and nightmares into minor obstacles to his newfound truth. With growing confidence, his speed actually increased. His sword grew brighter in his hand, and he forced the darowks further back into the grayness of Demonspawn.

Closer to Linda, Holli had noticed the delver stop. She was about to call out to him, but before she could speak, he had raced off with even greater speed and more obvious determination than he had previously displayed. Strangely, she saw the delver smiling. She could not comprehend what would cause such a reaction in such a harsh realm under such crushing conditions. If Ryson had not been so stunningly diligent in ushering away the darowks, she would have worried he had been placed under the serp's influence.

Ryson's state of mind, however, quickly became a much lesser concern as a legion of dieruhnes broke out of the gray haze in the distance and rushed forward. The crimson-skinned demons ran without grace or speed, their long thick bodies hunched forward like tall, red boulders rolling unevenly over the dark, loose ground. Plumes of gray dust rose up in their wake and lightning exploded from many of their iron tridents. It appeared as if a wave of red fury stirred a storm of chaos.

Holli knew they were headed directly for Linda. She wondered what had taken them so long. She expected such an attack the moment they arrived in Demonspawn, and she was prepared to counter the assault.

"Jure! Break the ground under their feet!"

Without the need for further direction, the wizard sent his white magic toward the ground in front of the onrushing demons. When the ring of pale energy hit the bleak dust, it burrowed into the ground. A pulse of force branched out into a long jagged line that stretched across the path of the dieruhnes.

Initially, nothing happened, but when the first demon stepped upon the affected ground, the dark soil caved downward into a deep chasm. The demon disappeared into the dusty hollow. The ground continued to break apart in haphazard fashion. The demons could not determine the path of Jure's magic. Most came to a dead halt as fault lines opened all around them in jagged, broken lines, leaving them no safe path forward.

They hesitated only for a moment. In the distance, Macheve could sense their indecision. She did not care how many were lost to the bowels of Demonspawn, and she pressed them onward.

The demons renewed their forward push, and they leapt over any visible breaks in the ground. Many were swallowed by new cracks, but far more escaped the first obstacle and continued their assault.

Holli ordered a second barrage.

"Haven! Burn them with the light!"

Just as Jure did not hesitate, Haven acted quickly. She pulled light from outside the fabric of Demonspawn, light from realms untouched by living beings, unspoiled by hate or violence. The brilliance radiated from the purity of untainted existence.

The dieruhnes of Demonspawn had never traveled beyond their breeding grounds, had never experienced light other than the dim burning of iniquity. The radiance cast upon them scorched their twisted souls, and in hopes of escaping the light, many leapt for the darkness of the chasms created by Jure's previous spell.

The counterattack cut into the number of demons far greater than Holli could have hoped. The legion of dieruhnes dwindled to a few dozen scattered across the dusty, dark battleground. Those that were left appeared to struggle between avoiding the burning light and a fervent desire to reach the human woman immune to magic. Their aggression needed no encouragement, but their craving for Linda was no doubt enhanced by Macheve's influence. Holli realized that the remaining demons were not worth the cost in magic being exerted by the continued grace of radiance.