Lady Branwyen Chandlish, or Raven to those who knew her best, sat in the middle of her bedroom floor on crossed legs. A crafted sword etched with runes floated inches above her knees. The hilt was ivory carved into the shape of a raven’s head, with wings for the guard. Two emeralds set as eyes reflected the glow of power coursing through the weapon. Anybody watching would think the girl had fallen asleep sitting up. Stepped out, as the old-timers called it. Stepped in was more like it.
Ever since the battle with The Protectorate, Raven hadn’t felt the presence that was always there. Malleus Maleficarum, the demon that was constantly trying to take over her soul. Even before she knew what it was, she could remember feeling it. And now there was only the faintest hint of the monster. There was no chance Malleus would be killed or give up so easily. The hovering sword had been used as a conduit for the demon’s magic, and traces of it still clung to the weapon. Raven was using that to track the elusive pain in her ass.
“Come out, come out, wherever you are.” Raven’s voice echoed through the cavernous hall lit by eight windows opened wide to let unfettered light stream through. A cheerful fire blazed in the front of the room, and a comfortable couch of dark purple leather filled the open area. A huge bookshelf sat near the couch, its tomes rich and worn. On one side of the fireplace were two pictures. The first, with the name “Els”, showed a beautiful woman with rich brown hair and almond shaped eyes, the other showed a stern looking man named “Stephen.” The other side held a single picture of a brunette named “Liz”. Above them all in a gilded frame, a place of honor for the bestest big sister ever, hung a portrait of a tanned woman with thick auburn tresses. “Sis”, said the nameplate beneath the portrait. Suspended in the middle of the room, a sword glowed purple.
“You gonna help me look?” Raven turned to her sole companion in this formerly solitary room. The figure shook its head and blonde hair swished, spraying the air with a vanilla scent. Raven groused and checked behind the book shelf like she’d done a hundred times before.
“Ya’ know, Lil’bit,” Raven said, levitating the couch upside down and shaking it vigorously in case that damned demon was hiding in the cushions like a coin, “if you’re gonna hang out in my head, the least you can do is talk. Gets sort of lonely with just my voice to keep me company.”
Sarah Petty, or rather the avatar of Sarah Petty currently residing in Raven’s noggin, shrugged her shoulders. Raven expected that much, since this version of Lil’bit was even quieter than the real one. Forgetting her hunt for the demon infesting her soul, Raven decided to see what else she could do with her silent companion. Spinning quickly, she wrapped her arms around imaginary Sarah’s waist for a kiss, passed through and promptly face planted on the floor in front of the bookshelf. A rather prodigious tome tottering unevenly on the highest sill fell and smacked her in the head. Pride wounded more than her body since she couldn’t be physically hurt here, Raven rubbed her temple.
Grumbling about being the queen in her own damned head, Raven suggested that the Sarah shade do a dance for entertainment. Sarah shade calmly extended one arm and one finger. “I really should stop imagining you with the same personality as Sis,” Raven grumbled with a smile. Sarah leaned in and grazed her lips against Raven’s cheek. It was like being kissed by a cloud. If Raven closed her eyes, she could almost feel their warmth on her skin. Almost.
A sharp ping reverberated off the stone walls. Raven sat up, passing through the fake Sarah, a little irritated that such a promising start was so rudely interrupted. If she wasn’t getting some imaginary loving, then she was darned sure going to do something constructive and killing whatever set off the runes she had crisscrossing the city could probably be considered constructive. If not, it sure would be fun.
As Raven grabbed the sword and turned her attention to the brightly lit windows, an unnoticed box in a dusty corner rattled. Malleus had existed for thousands of years, so understood the need for patience.
Raven blinked and opened her eyes to another world. Everything was tinted purple, a side effect of using her own power to fuel the Cowley stones that ran the shop and apartment. Pushing her sight through the walls of their apartment her eyes scoured every inch of the city, searching for something that shouldn’t be there. Looking for a magic signature in a city steeped with sorcery like Valentria could be a daunting task. Three sorcerers lived in the city, plus another sorceress who didn’t know what she was yet. A sly grin twisted Raven’s lips as she continued her search. She was going to have someone new to play with.
Turning her eyes to the north, Raven saw nothing suspicious. Patrols were heavier in that part of town anyway, since that’s where the more affluent citizens of Valentria lived. She’d have heard about any commotion by now. Towards the east lay the middle-class neighborhoods but that was also where the mountains grew closest to the city border. Trying to come down the mountains during the day was dangerous; doing so at night tended to involve a very long roll with a painfully abrupt end. Since south was the castle, there was no sense in checking there. Stephen and the guards would’ve already dealt with whatever set off the alarm before it got to the city. So west was where Raven focused her attention. Sure enough to her left was a disruption. Normally the flow of the world’s vitality was very gentle, even lazy. Now the bands of light arced and quivered. Jagged spikes of energy burst and faded, leaving pale auras in their wake. Raven’s grin grew into a smile that threatened to split her face in half. Forget fun, this was going to be a freaking blast.
Rummaging around in her dresser, Raven slipped a leather sleeve over her left arm, tying the straps around her neck. Her favorite form of defense, years of practice made it much more effective than any shield. Soft and supple, the material flexed and bent with her movements, but never got sweaty. She’d added a few more runes over that last couple of days and it could now stop anything short of… actually, it would stop pretty much anything she could think of. With a wave of her hand, two Congreve crystals pressed into the wall flared to life. After a moment the faces of her two older sisters blinked sleepily in the multi-faceted gems.
“Is everything okay, Raven?” Lis asked with a yawn. Lady Felicity Chandlish, oldest daughter of Duchess Elspeth Chandlish, renowned lawyer and heir to the Valentria throne stretched and rubbed her eyes.
“I’m going to kill you, Sis.” Bekah muttered. Lady Rebekah Chandlish, second oldest daughter, renowned annoyance and future president of Chandlish Rose Inc. added a few choice expletives on the off chance anybody failed to notice how grumpy she was.
“Sorry to wake y’all up,” Raven lied, thoroughly enjoying torturing Bekah, “but there’s a shadow walker in town. Need you two safe.”
Bekah growled and flopped backwards, her crystal growing dark. Raven knew she would activate the runes that protected her house. Liz, though, was looking very worried. She asked if Raven was sure, which Raven answered with a smile and a nod.
“Don’t look so excited,” Lis admonished, “we need to call Mom and have guards sent to beat that thing.”
Raven shook her head, “No, you need to seal up your house get some sleep. You’ve got court in the morning. It’s heading this way now, so let me handle it.” Liz started to argue but Raven cut her off, “The castle is safe, you and Sis are safe. Don’t tell Els about this, okay? She has enough to worry about.”
Knowing Raven wouldn’t put any of them, in danger, Liz nodded. As the crystal dimmed, Raven stood and stretched. After pulling her thick red hair into an untidy bun, there was just one more person to check on.
In the room next to Raven’s, Sarah Petty snored softly, blissfully unaware of the excitement going on around her. Blonde hair bleached nearly silver by the light of the full moon shining through the windows sprayed over a pillow. Beneath full lashes her eyes jerked and danced as she enjoyed her favorite dream; the one where a certain redhead wasn’t completely insane.
Snuffles, a prairie thumper that came to live with them after the store’s grand-opening, lifted his head when Raven silently entered. He lay at the foot of Sarah’s bed and yawned before whimpering for a treat. Raven held a finger to her lips and Snuffles quieted down. Rubbing the critter’s soft brown fur, Raven offered him a biscuit from the kitchen. While the bribe was wolfed down in two large bites, Raven checked to make sure the room was secure. It was a routine she and Snuffles had fallen into ever since the attack on the city. Raven didn’t consider it weird. Sarah needed to be safe in a world that was suddenly very dangerous, so it made sense to check the room once or twice a night. The fact she spent more time looking at Sarah than searching for anything was perfectly acceptable because the blonde was the one being protected.
“Keep her safe, okay?” Raven whispered. Snuffles wiggled his hind quarters and bared his teeth in agreement.
As the door closed with a barely audible click, Sarah rolled over and Snuffles wiggled under her arm. “Wish she wouldn’t feed you in my bed,” she said with a sleepy smile.
Opening the door to the shop’s moonlight bathed roof, Raven looked for the night’s entertainment. The shadow walker was less than five minutes away now, which meant there wasn’t much time. With practiced familiarity, Raven fell to one knee and pressed her open palm against a hidden rune. Magic flared briefly, locking the shop down to anybody that wasn’t her. Satisfied that Sarah was now the safest person in the world, Raven leaned against the chimney and waited.
Taking deep breaths she forced herself to calm down. She wasn’t afraid. Not of the thing coming down the street anyway, but shadow walkers had an unnerving effect on people with magic. Walkers weren’t from this world and their presence skewed the natural progression of energy. The stronger a person’s magic, the more that imbalance affected them. Less than a block away and Raven didn’t need her eyes opened to the magic world to know it was getting closer. Something between a scream and a laugh felt like it was climbing out from somewhere deep inside. Her muscles tensed and twisted like they were trying to escape her skin. She wanted to run, or fight, or cry, or any damned thing. The emotions were too much. In the freezing night, a single bead of sweat rolled down Raven’s brow. She had to get control of herself. Breathe in through the nose, out through the mouth. Focus on your surroundings, she told herself. The air was crisp with the clarity of winter. Frost crackled faintly underfoot, the only sound in a slumbering city. During the day Valentria was a kaleidoscope of unrestrained magic. Now everything was peaceful. Remain calm, her brain commanded. Letting herself get distracted during this fight could be deadly. Judging on the amount of energy it was emitting, it was stronger than any two sorcerers she could think of. Raven rolled her shoulders in anticipation of being able to let loose just a little. It amused her that people always that she was going full blast. What they didn’t know couldn’t kill them.
From the time she was born Malleus Maleficarum had been trapped in her soul, mutating her body into something that could contain its strength. The effects of those changes were impressive, to say the least. She’d heard the rumors about her being one of the most powerful sorceresses in the world. Just annoying blather with no evidence to back it up. Raven kept her true strength under wraps because unsubstantiated fear was a good thing to keep people from pushing boundaries. There were secrets she didn’t want anybody knowing about, like the psychotic demon trying to take over her soul and destroy the world for example. Anyway, all those whispers were wrong. She wasn’t one of the strongest; she was unquestionably the strongest and was so far out in front it was like the others weren’t even running the same race. Checking to make sure nobody who could notice was awake, Raven unshackled two of the self-imposed barriers on her power. Any more threatened to draw attention no matter how deeply asleep people were. A silent explosion of purple eldritch flame two stories high burned towards the heavens before spiraling down to its source. Raven’s sword, inscribed by numerous runes to focus the power of its wielder, crackled and sparked with energy.
By now the shadow walker was close enough for Raven to watch it coming, flitting from the cover of gloom to stand menacingly in front of her shop. Thin wisp of greasy gray hair hung limply from the black leather wrapped around its head. The same leather covered its entire body, so dark it seemed to absorb the light of the moon. A night this cold clouded a person’s breath no sooner that it crossed their lips. There was no hint of breath from the shadow walker, Raven noticed, which meant it was already dead. Be a darned shame if someone didn’t remind it.
Figuring that a creepy undead thing standing in front of the shop was likely bad for business, and since it didn’t seem in any great hurry to leave, Raven leaned over the roof with a friendly, “Howdy.”
Quicker than darkness, the creature leapt to the roof, sword already drawn and swinging for Raven’s neck. With a turn of her wrist, Raven blocked the blow and immediately countered. The clang of metal echoed softly through the silence, but she didn’t worry too much. Very few people lived in the business district and none for three buildings on either side. Raven danced backwards, the enemy sword coming down heavily on her leather guard. Even through the enchantments she felt that blow. If not for the protection, it would’ve taken her arm clean off. The walker pressed, swinging its sword in a wide arc. Raven ducked, her own blade slicing cleanly through her opponents side. Raven noted the distinct lack of blood spurting from the wound.
“You burned my face off,” the shadow walker growled, hoping to cause a momentary distraction by appealing to Raven’s conscience. It would’ve had better luck demanding the sun rise in the west.
“No, I burned off Horatio’s face,” Raven laughed. She hadn’t even felt bad about it at the time since they were the ones who attacked her and brought out the swords. How did that song she and Sis used to sing go? Don’t mess with us or we’ll kill you, tra-la-la-la-la. What it lacked in rhyme or musical talent, it more than made up for in brutal honesty. “You’re just a demon that took up residence in Horatio’s body. He’s long gone.”
“So you know about us?” The shadow walker lunged forward, only to have the attack deflected and Raven’s sword pierce his heart.
Raven shook her head, the blade withdrawing with a sucking sound. “Shadow walkers are the souls of demons in a human body, but I’m more interested in you individually.” She parried another thrust and sliced through the demon’s throat. Man, these things were harder to kill than she’d read. “You wanna tell me who you’re working for? Or do I get to torture you for a while before killing you?”
A wheezing laugh was the answer. “A demon’s life is pain,” the creature’s voice wasn’t very loud thanks to most of its vocal chords being severed, “and you can’t kill us. Destroy the shell and we just go back to our world.”
Nodding, Raven decided to test out a theory she’d been working on. Now seemed the most logical time since there was nobody around to worry about, or fuss at her for doing something stupid like testing out theories while fighting for her life. Shifting her senses to the world of magic, she stared at a demon’s soul for the first time. Writhing shadows convulsed around a black core. A gaping, sucking hole occupied the general vicinity of where a mouth should be, filled with nothing but vast emptiness. Bestial intellect glowed like fire in dark orbs that followed wherever she moved. Yet it all seemed very compressed. Humans radiated energy like walking furnaces. The demon’s energy seemed to center around the body for some reason. The most interesting thing though, mostly due to the poking and stabbing properties it possessed, was the creature’s sword. Instead of being the same drab dull gray energy light bands most metals put out, this one didn’t glow at all. It was the same inky black the demon itself was made of.
Cool, another theory.
Pirouetting, Raven attacked from the demon’s left, slow enough to give it time to swap hands. For a split second the metal flared its customary gray. Then the demon’s power flowed like midnight down the shaft. So the demon was coating the real sword with its energy. That was why getting hit by the darned thing hurt so much even through her sleeve. Now that was proven, as much as she could anyway, Raven went back to work on her other hunch. Slashing at the demon’s chest Raven pulled magic out of her sword when the tip was buried in flesh, just narrowly avoiding being decapitated in the process. She rolled under the attack, flinging a pulse of magic behind her to dissuade a follow up. Dimly aware that the demon had landed with a heavy thud clear on the other side of the roof, Raven took a moment to experiment. Pushing her power through the sword like a medicine dropper, dark magic was forced out of the tip. Instantly the world’s energy surrounded the invader, pulling it apart and leaving nothing behind. So that’s why the demons could only exist in a sorcerer’s corpse. Their bodies couldn’t pass into this world without a portal, and their magical cores wouldn’t survive being exposed. But could she drag the core out?
Lost in her thoughts, Raven didn’t hear the demon charging until it was almost too late. She dodged a killing blow only to have it fracture her left shoulder blade. Blood steamed as it flowed from the deep gash across her back. Growling in anger because she’d let her guard down, Raven dropped the sword. Before it hit the roof, magic gathered in Raven’s right hand. Too late the shadow walker realized the danger it was in. In a desperate bid to escape, it leaped off the roof only to be caught in a magical snare. As the demon struggled against her pull, Raven winced in pain. It was one thing to use her potion to heal cuts and bruises. Healing a shattered bone would take the rest of the night and hurt like hell.
Focusing on the matter at hand, trying to avoid thoughts of the brain melting pain she’d soon be enjoying, Raven worked on the best way to make sure her new test subject couldn’t get away. There were probably a dozen different spells to use that would bind it securely. But none of them were likely to qualify as payback for a broken shoulder. So, Raven decided to crush its arms and legs. The demon just lay in a twisted heap and laughed.
“I told you pain means nothing to us,” it rasped.
Raven slowly picked up her sword and took a long drought from the flask she always kept handy. “Yeah, you also said I couldn’t kill you,” she said, holding the blade a foot above the demon’s chest. “I’m willing to bet you’re wrong on both counts.”
With sword firmly planted in the shadow walker, Raven shoved magic through the shaft then released her grip, pulling her magic free. The shriek ripped from the throat of Raven’s defeated foe rattled windows. It sounded like an enormous dying animal. A twist of her fingers and Raven called forth a silencing spell, hoping that people would either ignore it or think it rumble of thunder. Living gloom poured like heavy gas from the handle of her sword. The inky cloud struggled as the world’s natural energy washed over it like the sea eroding a beach.
For ten minutes that felt like an eternity Raven was trapped in a soundproof bubble, alone with the dying screams of a monster. Mercifully the barrage of nightmarish sounds tapered off, finally falling silent. With a flick of her sword, the leather casing split wide exposing rotten, moldy flesh. Pulling her shirt over her nose, Raven slashed again. The smell of decay was almost physical as the dead man’s guts spilled out. Maggots squirmed deeper into the entrails searching for warmth. Trying not to vomit, Raven used the tip of her sword to poke through the rotten carcass. A glint told her she’d found what she was looking for.
Using magic to lift the tiny Congreve crystal out of the sludge since there was no way she’d be touching it with her hands, Raven floated it up to eye height. It would be impossible to use it to track whoever sent this thing after her, but maybe they were still watching. She had a pretty good idea of who she’d be speaking to anyway.
Her voice colder than the wind and her eyes sharper than broken glass, Raven growled, “If killing one of you bastards twice didn’t get the message through, let me be real clear. Come after my family again, and things will get personal.”
~~~~~
Richard DeGuire turned to the wrinkled hag. Lily, the first and most powerful shadow walker, slunk diffidently under his gaze. The crystal resting on the raised lectern still rung with the last words Lady Branwyen had spoken.
“She is quite strong, isn’t she?”
Lily’s tongue poked wetly through toothless gums like a pink worm. “Quite, my Lord,” she said, bowing and shuffling. “If not for Malleus, I would have taken her for myself.”
Richard ignored the title, “Lord”. He had no interest in politics or the aristocracy beyond what use they would be in reshaping this world. He was, however, very interested in the expertise Lily provided. Looking around the moldy chamber the hobbled wretch called home, Richard considered it a fitting place for an ancient crone. Skeletal remnants sat in silent suffering, shackled to the wall with rusty iron chains. Rats gnawed at fresher remains under a dusty wooden table. A spider fell from the ceiling and landed on his shoulder. He asked what payment she would require.
“A pittance, my Lord,” Lily said in her rasping voice, “just a fresh body. Someone young that I can grow into.
After taking a moment to consider things, Richard agreed to the terms. For his plan to work they would need a near infinite amount of magic. But if the Chandlish girl was as strong as it seemed, then the loss of a single sorceress would prove little hindrance.