Into the Abyss (The Nightslayer Trilogy, Part 2) - Chapter Two

Thaddeus was being stalked. The presence of his stalker – a minor Demon Lord, and not one of the Seven – had been tickling the edges of the heightened awareness his magic granted him for days, now, and it amazed him that he had yet to be attacked. What was his stalker waiting for? Was it possible that, despite the fact that it had had more than enough time to ready itself for a battle with Thaddeus, it was afraid? Or had it been ordered to hold back and observe Thaddeus's movements, gathering intelligence that could be reported back to the Seven before a larger, more coordinated attack could be unleashed? Either way, Thaddeus felt he was ready for whatever came, and even found that he was beginning to grow impatient, that growing impatience making it more and more difficult for him to keep acting before his stalker did. I can't allow myself to do that, though, he thought. Doing that may be just what they're waiting for.

Right now, Thaddeus was in one of the Halls of Twilight, probing it – as he had probed the previous six – for anything that might allow him to break through into the Abyss. There seemed to be nothing for him to find, however – as in the previous six Halls, the magic that had been used to construct this one was so dense that even an experienced Spellbreaker would have been hard pressed to locate where one spell ended and another began. And was breaking one of those spells even the right thing to do? What if it caused the entire Hall to collapse? Would that cause a chain reaction that lead to all of them collapsing? Thaddeus knew he wasn't strong enough to deal with the aftermath of something like that. But how else was he supposed to rescue the people he loved?

Thaddeus froze. His stalker had grown closer, and he sensed a nervous energy coming from it, a feeling that it was readying itself to pounce. Drawing his sword, Thaddeus turned a slow circle, trying to see if he could catch a glimpse of the creature he was sure was about to attack. He saw nothing but the stone walls of the Hall, however, which no doubt meant the Demon Lord had shrouded itself in an invisibility spell. “You wish to attack me, and yet you hide,” Thaddeus said. “Do you truly fear the Nightslayer so? If all of you fear me as much as you, then dealing with you will be hardly a challenge, at all.”

“You are distracted, Nightslayer,” a hissing, snakelike voice answered, seeming to come from everywhere at once, and suddenly Thaddeus sensed the presence of not one Demon Lord, but three. “Your thoughts stray from your appointed task. Do you not understand how weak this makes you?”

The words stung, as Thaddeus now understood that the three presences he sensed had always been there, waiting for him to make the first move. Because he hadn't, and because he hadn't even been aware of the other two Demon Lords, he would now be forced to fend off an attack that came from three directions at once. Could he do it? Probably, but he would rather not have. I have to strike first if I'm going to win this thing. Doing anything else leaves me vulnerable. Leaves me weak.

Fueled by a sudden, white hot rage, Thaddeus unleashed a burst of force in all directions. It hit all three of the Demon Lords, shattering their cloaks of invisibility and causing them to stagger. They recovered quickly, however, and counterattacked in tandem – one from in front, the other two from behind. Thaddeus leaped into the air and somersaulted over the one that charged from in front, swinging his sword in a wild arc that trailed blue fire as he landed. The swing missed, but the magic that accompanied it threw the Demon Lord, shrieking, to the floor. Ignoring their fallen comrade, the other two leaped over his prone form and unleashed a torrent of magic at Thaddeus. Thaddeus was able to get a shield up, but not before some of their magic hit, buffeting him and knocking him backwards. He kept his feet, however – he wasn't sure how, as the pain from what had struck him was worse than anything he could remember – gripping his sword with both hands and brandishing it at his attackers with a grin that, had he been able to see it, Thaddeus would have found more than a little terrifying. “Is that all you've got?” he asked.

All three Demon Lords were on their feet, now, the one Thaddeus had struck with the burst of magic from his sword – obviously still a little worse for wear, based on what Thaddeus could sense – now standing behind the other two. As Thaddeus watched, black swords that trailed threads of darkness like ink appeared in their hands, and, all at once, Thaddeus understood that, if any of those weapons so much as grazed him, he would be dead before he even realized what had happened. Using his magic, and the amplifying abilities of his own sword, Thaddeus felt he might have been able to defeat one Demon Lord armed with such a sword, but, right now, he faced three. It doesn't matter, he thought, not even realizing how reckless his line of reasoning seemed. If I live, or if I die, I will give them a fight any who survive won't be quick to forget.

“Begone from here.”

The voice was cold, like ancient, creaking ice, and immediately made Thaddeus feel more afraid than he could ever remember feeling, before. Normally, he would have wanted to turn and see who it was that had spoken – whoever it was was behind Thaddeus, even though his magical senses told him no one was there – but, right now, all he wanted to do was flee, to run so far away that, whoever the speaker was, it would take him so long to find him that, by the time he did, Thaddeus would have long since died and turned to dust. Thaddeus couldn't move, however – he was, quite literally, frozen in place, though he knew not by what magic or spell – and it seemed the Demon Lords were similarly incapacitated.

“You are invaders, here, fouled by the chaos that lies between the planes.” These words were addressed to the Demon Lords, though hearing them spoken made Thaddeus feel no better. “Begone, I say, or you will face the fullness of my wrath.”

The wrath of whatever being spoke in that cold, ancient voice would be a terrible thing to behold. No one in their right mind would ever want to witness such a thing, and, as Thaddeus watched, it seemed this even held true for the three Demon Lords, who, as one, turned and fled. Once they were gone, whatever held Thaddeus relaxed, and, slowly, he turned. What he found himself facing was a tall, bulky creature that seemed to be made entirely of ice. In each of its hands, it held identical, scythe-like weapons – each of them also made of ice – and it regarded Thaddeus with eyes that blazed with blue fire. Though it had to be magical, the creature gave off no sense of magic, or of life, or even of substance. Thaddeus could see the creature. He'd heard its voice. And yet, despite all of that, it was like it wasn't even there.

“I should have commanded you gone, as well,” the creature said. “I sense the touch of darkness on you.”

“Why . . . why didn't you?” Thaddeus asked, the cold in the air making his breath steam as he spoke.

“Are you not the Nightslayer, then?”

“I am.” Thaddeus didn't like the lack of confidence he heard in his voice. Where had that come from? Was this creature really so frightening that it caused him to doubt himself?

“You do not sound certain,” the creature said, “though who am I to doubt you? Tell me, Wanderer, why are you in these Halls? What is it you seek?”

Wanderer. Thaddeus was no Wanderer. He was whole, now. Himself. Wasn't he? “Not long ago, two people who are very dear to me were ensnared in a trap and pulled into the Abyss between the planes,” Thaddeus said. “I seek for a way to reach them.”

“Why seek for them when your duty is to combat the Demon Lords? Did you not swear an oath that you would combat them above and before all else?”

“I did.”

“Then does not seeking for a way to reach your friends bring you into conflict with that oath?”

Thaddeus hesitated before answering. “I don't know,” he finally said. “I feel I may need them in order to fulfill my oath.”

“What if they are dead?” the creature asked. “If you need them to fulfill your oath, would not their deaths make that impossible? And, if so, would that not then make you an oath breaker? Would that not then prove you to be a false Nightslayer?”

“I am not false!” Thaddeus said. “I will fulfill my oath to combat the Demon Lords, but I need my friends. They are a part of me, and I am incomplete without them.”

For a long time, the creature said nothing, staring at Thaddeus with its blazing, sapphire eyes. “Indeed you are,” it said at last. “Thaddeus Alvarem, I cannot tell you if your friends live, but I can tell you that, without them, you will not succeed in your task. That must not be allowed to happen. And so I will cast you from here, and into the Abyss. You will not be able to return, either to these Halls, or to the plane from which you came, unless you find them.”

“What if they're dead?” Thaddeus asked.

“Then pray that you join them before the Abyss consumes you.”

Thaddeus had a feeling, then, of being lifted off his feet and thrown as if off of an impossibly high cliff. The feeling lasted only for a moment before he lost consciousness, not even giving him enough time to scream.