Mark of the Fool
Chapter 526: A Dish Best Served Twice

While Thundar, Kyembe and Ripp stomped the tiashivas and their master, Guntile and Ezerak emerged from the smoke.

The half-orc cracked her knuckles. “Well, that was a good little fight,” she said, turning to Thundar as the minotaur cleaned his mace. “That was a good idea you had. Waiting for those demons to catch up to the others really gave us an edge.”

“Wait, what?” Alex demanded, snapping out of his revenge-fuelled joy. “What does she mean by, ‘waiting for those demons to catch up to the others…?”

“Oh, uh…” Thundar coughed awkwardly. “Well you see, the thing about that is…what you oughta know…okay, look it worked, right? We flanked them and now they’re dead. I wanted to get to you faster but…y’know, sometimes ya need to think like a general.”

“...we’ll talk about this strategy of yours later,” Alex said grumpily, even though he would have done the same thing in the minotaur’s shoes…or hooves.

But there were more important things to think about at the moment…like escaping.

“Alright, everyone. Great job.” He looked at the mercenaries. “I’m glad you’re part of my team. Now, let’s make sure we get back home so you can collect the rest of your well-deserved pay.”

“Aye, thanks, boss.” Ripp said. “Let’s get ourselves out of—”

“I see. I finally see noooooow.” A menacing voice stopped Ripp's words.

Yantrahpretaye—the greater demon of iron and steam was nowhere to be seen, yet his words echoed from floor to ceiling. Metal wall sconces rattled, a bristling energy—like pressure shifting in a lightning storm—charged the air.

Being invisible didn’t stop the hairs on Alex’s body from crackling.

Without a word, the companions formed a circle, backing each other, searching the hall.

Kyembe’s sword was ready.

Ezerak raised his blade, his army of monsters ringing the Troupe of the Gargoyle

Guntile growled a warning, baring her tusks.

Ripp’s daggers flashed.

The trio of Thundars pounded maces against his palms.

Alex held his staff high, his summonscircling him.

Where was that damn bucket of wires and bolts hiding?

“Sphincter’s tightenin’ up over here, Alex,” Thundar whispered.

“You’re not alone.”

“Kaz-Mowang should have ordered you to kill each other as I told him!” Yantrahpretaye’s voice struck. “Thieves! Spies! Opportunists! Abusers of his hospitality. …but I can ignore that and offer you a chance to live.”

A scraping noise raked the passageway.

Smoke billowed from a distant hall. Fire? Did Baelin’s battle set this place on fire?

“What kind of chance?” Alex asked cautiously.

Steam hissed. “I am as a brother to Kaz-Mowang, but things are never simple. Jaretha’s politics are becoming complicated. And under the right circumstances, Yantrahpretaye could be the Abyssal Knight of this city.”

“Some brother…” Thundar muttered.

“Silence mortal!” the demon’s voice swelled. “For it is I who speaks. Now, tell me what you are doing here. Stealing trophies, no doubt? You will hand them and your weapons over to me immediately.”

Alex glanced at Kyembe and Ezerak, their eyes were combing the hallway.

The former king’s expression was grim.

Kyembe’s stern.

Alex scowled.

Smoke continued billowing into the hall.

“You will also join me in a plan to kill Kaz-Mowang,” the demon’s voice commanded. “In return, you can leave here with your lives.”

Alex swallowed, his grip tightening on the aeld staff. Where was that damn demon?

“Maybe, we could negotiate—” he started.

“There will be no negotiation. My offer is my offer and it is final: any more questions and one of you will have to kill at least one other member of your little band of thieves if you expect my mercy.”

Alex scoffed. “Who the hell would take an offer like that?”

“Smart mortals. Mortals who wish to survive.”

The young wizard’s frown deepened. Where was he? Why didn’t—

“The smoke!” Kyembe snarled, pointing to the smoke cloud billowing into the hallway. “Something evil hides inside!”

“What?’ Alex squinted.

His eyes grew wide.

There—within the billowing black cloud—a twisted face leered at them.

“Oh, shit! Everyone, blast the smoke!” Alex instructed the air elementals next. “Use your wind! Blow it away!”

Guntile pitched a wave of stones, while Kyembe raised his burning ring. A beam of hellfire lanced the half-orc’s stones, bursting them in an explosion that rocked the corridor.

Air elementals circled the smoke, dispersing it in swirling gusts.

Yantrahpretaye’s howl was terrible “You dare? When I return Kaz-Mowang’s trophy to him atop your shattered bones, he will owe me a favour, and that will be enough, for now.”

In a breath, the smoke scattered, revealing the demon’s powerful form. Steam leaked from every joint as its body moved, grinding when rusty claws reached for the Troupe of the Gargoyle.

It formed a fist, then squeezed.

Waves of power rippled through the air, and suddenly Kyembe, Ezerak, Ripp and Thundar were fighting to keep hold of their weapons.

“What the—” Alex gasped when he felt a sharp pain raking his waist through his greater force armour. He looked down in disbelief: his utility knife was piercing his protective spells.

“Magnetism! Watch out, it’s attracted to certain metals!” he warned his companions.

Ripp suddenly screamed, whirling away as his daggers slipped from their sheathes. They swarmed like a line of hornets, stabbing at the swiftling as he sped through the hall, moving faster than the blades, just saving himself from being gutted.

Alex conjured forceshields with his staff, deflecting his knife and Ripp’s daggers.

“Kill the bastard!” he shouted. “Guntile, get your stones, ready!”

The metal demon laughed. “You will not get that chance, mortal. I did not come alone. Oh, and I can see you, little wizard.”

“I can see you too.” Alex’s heartbeat rose as a familiar, female voice reached him from behind.

“Well, well, well, the toys are playing,” Zonon-In laughed.

The towering she-demon stepped into the passage on the side opposite from Yantrahpretaye, flanking the group. Sickening mouth tentacles danced between her lips.

She was accompanied by a battalion of pazuzites and tiashivas.

She extended her claws, crab-like pincers snapping.

Alex’s mind reeled, fighting panic from the mania-field and the sight of her with the other greater demon. But maybe there was a chance…a chance…that maybe Zonon-In might help them if she could also eliminate one of her rivals in the process.

Or, she could simply just kill them on a whim in all of this chaos.

He knew he couldn’t trust her, and that they couldn’t face two greater demons and escape. Not without casualties.

Time for the emergency reserves.

Glaring at the iron demon, Alex took to the air, flying straight for…Zonon-In. He met her gaze, his eyes fierce as he activated Baelin’s magic.

‘Claygon!’ he said mentally. ‘I need you. Get into a fighting stance, position your spear, make sure you’re ready to use it, and get your fire-beams ready. Listen to me carefully.’

This was Zonon-In’s hour.

She grinned in glee as the comical jester flew toward with such an adorable look of rage. It was almost adorable enough to make her want to spare him. And if the mood is right? She just might.

After all, things were going incredibly well.

Outside the palace, the city of Jaretha burned. She had watched Ezaliel’s battle alongside Kaz-Mowang, his servants, and his other guests while inwardly cheering as the archwizards devastated her master and his allies.

Kaz-Mowang could only gawk like a fool while his guests trembled in fear.

Beyond the bull-headed fool’s walls, the entire city was burning and turning into a storm of blood and death. Abyssal knights had fallen like leaves. Greater demons had been snuffed out like candle flame, and even the city’s titans were no longer guarding the gates because they’d been torn to shreds by cosmic magic, lovely tentacles, and beautiful dragon claws.

In short? Things were going even better than she could have ever hoped for.

When she’d decided to help Baelin, her plan had been simple, yet layered.

She knew the archwizard wanted her master dead, and she had been largely disgraced in his court as a result of her recent defeat. Others were making plans to outmanoeuvre and destroy her.

So she had destroyed them first.

Two greater demons—some of Ezaliel’s most prized lieutenants—killed, which was enough to ensure her position was secure. But that was the beauty of her plan: this result was only the beginning.

If Baelin eliminated Jaretha’s master, then there would be a place in his ranks. One of his lieutenants—or any other greater demon—could rise to the position of abyssal knight, as long as they proved cunning and stronger than their compatriots.

With some of her rivals dead, him dead and his court broken, the path would be open for her to make a play.

But, now? She laughed inwardly.

Ezaliel had called his many allies, only to get them killed like flies.

And with that many abyssal knights dead, it would be child’s play to snap one of their fiefdoms up, since she now had few rivals left in Jaretha from the look of the wizards’ destruction rampaging through the city.

The game was to play just the right cards to make sure her coming advantages would be maximised.

And fortunately, an opportunity had presented itself.

Not long after the apocalyptic battle started, Kaz-Mowang had shown his true colours: the mighty, prideful demon had taken up his trident and bravely…led his guests away from the city and to a safehouse far from the disaster.

Vain Kaz-Mowang was, but foolish, he was not. Zonon-In could already see his plan: he’d retreated from the city, protecting his guests and—more importantly—the bulk of his armies.

Once the raging battle ended, he would return to the city as a conquering saviour, ready to assume his reign in the oncoming chaos. Of course, she had not followed him.

She had other plans.

Already, her own forces waited outside the city, poised and ready to strike before Kaz-Mowang could summon up enough spine to return. She would strike down the remaining greater demons left in the city while they tried to recover and—by the time the bull-headed coward returned—she would have gathered enough power for what was left of Jaretha to see her as its new master.

And then let him try to destroy her as she rebuilt the city in her image!

Of course, there had been one wrinkle: Yantrahpretaye.

That wily old bastard was clever, fierce and decisive. She would have preferred to see him removed from play. But, how fortunate it had been for her when he appeared in that smokey form he travelled in and whispered to her about the strangest thing that had occurred in the ballroom.

A renegade tiashiva.

Shouting accusations that enemies were in Kaz-Mowang’s palace.

She’d taken it as an opportunity to either gain a favour, or cripple a rival.

And so she had gladly accepted, coming to this battle to aid him…or at least, that is what she had said.

‘I’ll participate in the battle, alright,’ she thought, grinning as the entertainers–who she’d known were actually thieves— struggled with their weapons.

Her grin widened when one of them cast a handful of exploding stones into Yantrahpretaye’s face, blasting her rival and extracting a steam and smoke-tinged curse that echoed through the palace walls.

‘I’ll put in a minor effort, and let you all rip each other apart,’ Zonon-In thought. ‘Then I’ll slaughter the weakened victor and take whatever it is that Baelin sought from the corpses. It will be so sad when I tell him that his team was killed in battle! But by good fortune, I was able to retrieve what he wanted. Then he will owe me another favour. The wizard will kill my other rivals and pave the path for me to take not only this fiefdom, but others as well.’

A mouth tentacle licked her lips as she watched the jester’s approach.

‘And perhaps in another few millennia, I will have gathered enough power to obtain a lordship. Yes, it all begins toda—’ Her thoughts paused, narrowing on the jester.

His voice…the way he flew.

Something about him seemed so, so familiar.

What was it?

Where had she seen hi—

She bared her teeth.

Of course! The swamp! He was the mortal who controlled that golem The one who stole her war-spear! How could she not recognise him?

‘Good! Let the prey come to the hunter! I will flay him until I get my weapon back and he tells me where his companions are. Then, he will die a slow death, one befitting of such a wretch. But wait…where was the golem?’

The wizard was close now, he raised a hand, pointing beside her.

The air shimmered.

Something appeared.

The golem was suddenly beside her—its face was snarling and its body was no longer clay, instead, it was white stone. It posed in a fighting stance, two of its hands were aiming at her.

Terrible pain gripped her chest.

In shock, she slowly looked down; her own war-spear was buried in her breast. The stroke was clean. Precise.

It had skewered her heart completely.

“No…” she choked on black blood as her weapon—returned to her as she’d wanted—drank her life force. “This…my…hour…”

With those choking words, Zonon-In slumped to the ground like a fallen tree.

Schemes and plans flitted away.

With the last of her withering life, her eyes found Claygon’s face.

And—fixed on the golem—she died.

In the space of minutes, Alex Roth had gained revenge twice.

And he was in the mood for more.