Vicious Magick (27 page)

The road to the Deus Palatium is paved with
well-set bricks. With most of the skirmishes taking place out in
the surrounding fields, only one group of preoccupied fighters
sands between Zanther, Novanostrum, Madra, and the gates.

Two daemons are fighting a half-dozen
crucifers, with pieces of what might’ve been another half-dozen
crucifers scattered on the ground around them. Novanostrum nods at
Zanther, time slows, and colors recede. In a flash of steel and
purple blood, Zanther has beheaded and behearted both of the
daemons. The natural laws of physics snap back into place, and the
three of them find themselves in front of the startled
Crucifers.

“That was incredible!” one of them says.

“You—you saved us,” says another one.

“Can you open that gate for us? We wish to
have an audience with the Grand Pontiflex,” Novanostrum says.

“The Grand Pontiflex has been confined to his
bedchambers for the past few months, but we will certainly request
you a meeting with the Pontiflex Minor,” says the first one.

Seemingly glad to get off the battlefield,
they signal to guards inside to raise the large iron megadoor. They
all scurry inside as the gate is immediately lowered again.

The main hall of the Deus Palatium has
gray-and-white checkerboard marble flooring extending seemingly
into infinity, but in truth they only walk for about two minutes
before they come upon the door to the Dual Chamber.

“Please wait just a moment,” one of the
soldiers says as he and another Crucifer walk through the door and
close it behind them.

It’s not long before they emerge.

“The Pontiflex Minor will see you now,” one
of them says.

As soon as they are through the door, it
locks behind them, which causes Madra to cast an anxious glance
over her shoulder. At the far end of the massive Dual Chamber,
standing in front of an oversized throne, waits the Pontiflex
Minor.

“I’m told you dispatched a few of these fell
daemons with great skill,” he says, “now, tell me, why is it you’ve
come here?”

“Me and this guy,” Zanther says, pointing at
Novanostrum,“just want to have a look around this fine palace. But
she,” he says, now pointing at Madra, “is pretty pissed off.”

Novanostrum and Madra look at each other,
impressed by Zanther’s eloquence.

“Holiness, I am Queen Madra of Claustria,”
she says with a curtsey, “I’ve come to request the withdrawal of
the Crucifers occupying my kingdom.”

“Oh? They left a week ago,” he says, “they
weren’t there to occupy your kingdom. They were trying to locate
these two.

“You know, I sent assassins, soldiers, and
daemons to find you,” the Pontiflex Minor says, raising his voice,
“and here you are, come to me. I could’ve saved myself a lot of
trouble had I just waited and killed you myself.”

The three of them clutch their weapons.

“Still, that wouldn’t have done at all. You’d
have the Nexus Sketch, and the foundations of Crucifism would be
shaken. Now it’s gone, and pretty soon you’ll be gone, I can
succeed the Grand Pontiflex, and things can get back to
normal.”

“You haven’t killed us
yet
,”
Novanostrum says.

“Oh. Right. Details,” he says, raising his
silver staff.

The doors to the room open, as do several
passages which seem to have appeared out of nowhere. Daemons start
piling into the room, clambering toward the center swinging axes,
chains and maces.

Madra points the powderblast at the nearest
one, squeezing the trigger and dropping the hellspawn like a sack
of hammers. The other daemons pause for a second, then resume their
charge as she reloads.

Zanther swings both his blades at a
rapidly-approaching daemon and severs the torso from shoulder to
armpit, sending the head and left arm flying off the body in a
spray of sludge-like blood as Novanostrum picks off targets
one-by-one with lightning bolts which send down a shower of plaster
and stone as they pierce the ceiling.

“It’s no good,” Novanostrum says to Zanther,
“there’s too many of ‘em. Time to bring out my A-game.”

He slams his elephant-bone staff into the
ground, sending out a shockwave which knocks down most of the
daemons, then spins it around over his head, conjuring a stormcloud
which crackles and rumbles.

Finally deciding to participate, the
Pontiflex Minor blasts fireballs into the fray, causing Zanther and
Madra to dodge and dive, all while avoiding the blows of
weapon-swinging daemons.

The brimstone sweat of a hundred daemons
mixes with the spinning stormcloud, turning it a pale green and
causing acidic rain to pelt everyone in the Dual Chamber.

One of the daemons has managed to wrest
Madra’s powderblast from her hands, and another daemon has cut one
of Zanther’s shiny longknives in half, meanwhile the Pontiflex
Minor has targeted Novanostrum with a meteorite the size of a
wagon. The room shakes as giant slabs of stone are knocked loose by
the space rock, which slams into the floor just next to Novanostrum
and sends him and his staff flying to opposite sides of the
chamber.

With the spell broken, the stormcloud
explodes, showering the daemons and the walls with the acidic
mixture. Daemons and humans alike, everyone is momentarily stunned
by the simultaneous explosions. Novanostrum notices the acid
reacting with the wall behind the Pontiflex minor, melting away
images of expaled traitors to reveal another painting beneath.

“What the…?”

Daemons start noticing the wall’s
transformation, staring at the newly-revealed image and
disintegrating into ash. The Pontiflex Minor is understandably
confused.

“What is
happening
here?”

Zanther points at the mural, and the
Pontiflex Minor turns around and gazes upon it.

“Ah…I see,” he says before his body bursts
into ash, his hat and clothes falling to the floor as his silver
serpentine staff rattles down the steps leading up to the lectern,
transforming back into a snake and slithering away.

Novanostrum, Zanther, and Madra stand in the
center of the room, catching a glimpse of the image, which is also
starting to dissolve and melt away.

“It’s beautiful,” she says.