Page 83 of As Darkness Fall
We’d gotten perhaps five hundred feet farther up the slope when a dark, oppressive energycame down from the skies and slapped us flat to the ground. We fought back, our mind working on throwing off the hold of the power. While we did, we managed to turn our head, locating its source.
A giant red-skinned figure on blackened wings was descending from the heavens, its pitch-black wings slowly beating to control its fall.
“Abaddon,” Aaron hissed. “We are so screwed.”
We froze. Our two-legged self knew that name. Knew what it meant. Abaddon. One of the Demon Kings.
The ground literally shook as he landed, the wings of the giant beast stirring up so much dirt and debris we had to shield our eyes from it for a moment. In that instant, there was only one thought that summed up our combined thoughts.
We are so screwed.
Chapter Forty-One
Abaddon towered over us, easily fifty feet tall or more. In one hand, he gripped a wicked-looking double-bladed ax, the shaft of which was as wide as I was tall. The gray metal of its edges glowed with etched runes.
Three giant horns sprouted from the twisted human-like face of the demon king, his features larger and thicker than they had any right to be. Pure-black eyes looked down upon us, no pupil to give away the direction of the beast’s focus.
We all but cowered on the ground, our best efforts barely able to let us move our heads. The dank oppressiveness of the demon king was a physical thing, its icy fingers pushing us down simply with his presence.
It was over then; we knew it. Certain death was all that awaited us at this creature’s hands. We watched it come as one cloven hoof the size of a small house stepped forward, the ground trembling at his approach.
We had failed.
Then, all at once, the hand smashing us flat lifted.
Beside us, Vir fought back. We watched as he grew in size, bristling with a vibrant, lively power that flung back the hand of Abaddon. Blue energy coiled around his limbs as he stood taller and taller, spear in one hand, the sword he never used strapped to his waist. Gold armor appeared around his shoulders and down to his torso, while those mysterious darkened bracers on his forearms solidified from the energy.
His wolf’s head sprouted from his human face, angry and defiant. The horns that jutted from his head were just as impressive as those that Abaddon sported, even if there were but two. Fire replaced his eyes, and when Vir slammed the butt of his spear into the ground, a crack in the ground raced out from him toward the demon king.
Perhaps it was just us, but we thought the red-skinned beast hesitated, slightly unsure. Although he was still taller than Vir, there was no denying the sheer power the god was preparing to wield.
“Stand,” Vir commanded as he stood opposed to the demon.
We rose to our feet, our lips peeled back in a wordless snarl. Compared to the two beings in front of us, we were nothing, a mote, a speck of dust to be swept aside, but we weren’t going to go down without a fight. We doubted any mortal would survive a fight between these two beings.
Then, Abaddon surprised us. He lifted one clawed hand, palm outward.
“Peace, Champion.”
The voice of a demon king was like the sound of a mountain speaking. So deep and powerful, like boulders grating against one another, it reached down into our very bones and sent them shuddering.
“There need not be combat,” Abaddon continued, his eyes sweeping over the field of corpses. “There has been much of that already. Come peacefully, and you will be treated as guests.”
Our ears were nearly bleeding by the time the demon finished speaking, his voice just as powerful as his presence. Vir’s power did not seem to protect us from it.
Nearby, Aaron stiffened at the words. Our two-footed mind fought its way to the surface, and a curious whine emerged. We wanted to know what that meant.
“He’s offering to treat us as guests,” Aaron said. “If we accept, that means that Abbadon won’t kill us, and neither will Hades.”
We fixed Aaron with a look. There was a plan that our human mind had, and we knew we weren’t going to back down from it. Our parents were in danger. They came first.
Aaron shrugged at us. We knew he understood what we meant. That we weren’t leaving without the Idol. Yet his response was decidedly bland. The words “your funeral” echoed in our human mind.
We growled at him, doing our best to remind him that he was under contract. He glared. We returned the look, pawing at the ground.
“Fine,” Aaron said angrily, then turned to Vir and Abaddon. “We accept.”
“We are your guests, then,” Vir said, his power subsiding. He swiftly shrank back to a slightly-above-normal human size.
