City of Demons by Kevin Harkness Read Free Book Online Page B

the body of the demon behind them. Why did demons still terrify him when they were dead, he wondered as he walked behind Marick. True, the queasiness and jitters had been stronger when the thing was alive, but even now the creature’s corpse was horrifying. How could he know where the demon power started, and his own natural fear of a thirteen-foot tall nightmare left off?
    At the camp, Dorict and Salick washed the weapons in the stream. From his voluminous saddlebags, Dorict produced a soft cloth and dried them. The weapons were then replaced in their leather sheaths. The younger Banes soon got out their bedrolls; no one wanted dinner after what they had seen. The silence of their master was a blanket over all of them, and even Marick bedded down without his usual banter. Mandarack sat with his back to the distant, slain demon and stared into the fire. When Garet woke in the grey light of dawn, the old man was still sitting there, staring into the dead embers. It was impossible to say if he had slept at all.
    After a cold breakfast, Mandarack drew Salick aside and spoke softly to her. Garet watched her nod, uncertainly at first but then with more enthusiasm and agreement. She waved and Garet came over, yawning after his fitful sleep. He had dreamt of returning home, but the small cabin was empty. The hearth was cold, and spider webs covered his mother’s pots and pans. As he put his hand on the loft ladder to search for his family, a shiver of fear came over him, and with the slow sureness of dreams, he realized that a demon waited for him in the loft. Sleep had not been easy after that. Waking and seeing Mandarack’s silhouette in the light of the dying fire had reassured him, and he had eventually drifted off into other desperate, though unremembered dreams. Salick’s stern expression did not help his nerves and he wrapped his arms anxiously around himself as he stood before her.
    â€œCome with me,” she commanded, “and bring the hatchet.” She began the climb to the top of the hill.
    Mystified, Garet asked Dorict for it. The younger boy retrieved the small axe from his saddlebags and handed it over.
    â€œRight. We should have thought of that last night,” Dorict yawned, “but, you know, it was too...too...” He flushed and turned away to busy himself with saddling the horses.
    Still confused, Garet followed Salick, hatchet in hand, back to the ruined farmhouse. She skirted the building, face turned aside, and walked resolutely up to the sprawled form of the demon.
    Garet decided to begin his education. “Salick, why do I still feel afraid of this...” Words failed him in describing the thing before them. Faced with what it was and what it had done, even the word ‘demon’ seemed inadequate.
    Salick held her hand out for the hatchet. She seemed to weigh her words as carefully as he had last night. “Garet,” she said, with none of her usual disdain, “Master Mandarack has asked me to tell you ‘what any Southerner would know.’ But this goes beyond common knowledge. It is a thing known only to Banes.” Her eyes narrowed and she was the old Salick again. “And you will never speak of this to anyone outside the Banehall!”
    Garet nodded, and when she kept glaring at him, belatedly added, “I promise.”
    Salick returned his nod and knelt beside the demon’s head. She pushed it over and raised the hatchet to strike it above and between the eyes. She explained her purpose between strokes.
    â€œThe ability to project fear is common to all demons.” Thwack . “Although some are stronger than others.” Thwack . Her words had the quality of a recital, as if she were repeating something she had heard many times. “Each kind of demon possesses an organ, called the demon’s jewel, in its forehead.” Thwack . The hatchet had split the skull of the creature, and Salick pried the blade back and forth to widen