Chapter 53

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Dynan skidded on the floor, trying to stop himself from being dragged farther. He dropped his sword, clawed back to it and managed to get a finger around a loop of the hilt before he was hauled sharply away. Black mist clung to him that he could barely see through. A corner loomed and he was pulled around it. He grabbed hold of the wall with his left hand and jerked to a stop. Muscle and bone at his hip started to separate, and he cried out in pain. He held on while the tentacle sought to yank him loose.

He heard footsteps then, looking up to find Logue Riztrin smiling down at him. “A fine predicament, Prince. You can’t beat them, you know, but they’ll soon be feasting on your living flesh. I’d stay to watch but I’ve other things to tend to. I’ll be sure to send your brother in after you. More fresh meat. Keeps them happy. Looks like your father will be King after all, and they own him.”

Logue kicked his hand off the corner, laughing as he turned away. Dynan swore after him, then decided he was wasting precious breath and time as a room filled with swirling lights loomed before him. Dynan forced himself up, half-sitting as he was pulled along, ignoring scraped skin, and slashed at the thing that held him. From inside the room a squeal of pain reached him. With one last sharp yank, he was pulled in and released.

Images struck him, popping in and out of focus. Marc lay curled on the floor. Dark pillars surrounded him. Black strands coiling from each of the six orbs roved over his body. His eyes were open, but he lay unmoving, jaw slack. Dynan thought he was dead. Small, lizard-like creatures crawled over him, chewing into his skin, attached like leeches. One had burrowed into his chest, squirming insidiously as it tried to claw in deeper. Dynan choked on bile that rose to his throat, lurching to his feet as tiny eyes noticed him and the creatures turned to attack him. Despair filled his mind. Marc was dead, his task incomplete. The Gateway stood open.

Dynan backed away, fearing the endless death that awaited him in this place. Then, through the hiss and chitter of the lizards, he heard Marc struggling to breathe.

Dynan attacked, kicking and slashing at anything that moved. His sword sliced through one of the ribbons and it recoiled, shrieking with a sound that froze his mind. Pain lanced through his arm and almost dislodged his sword. He held on and fought.

A lizard creature launched itself at him, crawling up his side toward his neck. He grabbed it and threw it off, but another and another replaced it. He hacked at the one half inside Marc, killing it and pulling the rest of it out. He ignored the sharp pain of teeth biting into him, thinking if he could just get Marc out, they would make it to tomorrow. The gateway would be closed. They would be safe another day.

A black band rose from Marc to strike, and Dynan slashed at it, cutting it off from its source of power. Another scream erupted. One of the lizards fell off of him, writhing on the floor in apparent agony. Dynan stepped into the space left open by the two severed bands and swung his sword in a sweeping arc, cutting the other bands away from Marc.

Immediate pain swelled through him. His sword fell from his frozen hands, and the floor caught him as he doubled. He huddled there, pressing his hands over his ears, cowering under the raging storm that broke over him. His own screams were lost, swept away by a torrent. Silence descended, startling in its abruptness and he looked up.

Everywhere the small creatures twisted on the floor. Dynan thought he should be able to hear them, but didn’t care that he couldn’t. When he tried to pick up his sword, he saw that his hands were scoured black. Charred skin cracked open, oozing a yellow white fluid when he moved his fingers. He left the weapon and reached for Marc, knowing he didn’t have much time before something else came for them. Dynan got his arms underneath him, fighting back tears of pain and stumbled to his feet.

The floor rumbled, a pounding vibration that knocked him down. He crawled backwards, pulling Marc with him. Struggling against pain, Dynan staggered back up and made it through the door. Another tremor shook the building, closer this time. Dynan stumbled, falling into the far wall. He gave up trying to stand, shaking so badly he couldn’t keep his footing. He took Marc by the collar, forcing his fingers to hold him and used his other arm to pull himself forward. Every movement became an agony. The hall stretched before him, an intolerable distance to cross.

The floor pounded with coming footsteps. Dynan reached the corner. Twenty paces away the darkness broke and beyond it, still crumpled on the floor, his two brothers lay motionless. He had to make it that far before the thing that came behind reached him. Dynan thought he knew it, afraid to think it for more than a moment. A demon, coming to reclaim its prize. He had to make it to the light with Marc and the Gateway would close.

Dynan held on to that thought, praying it would be true. Gritting his teeth together to keep from screaming, he stood, using the wall as a guide and for support. He pulled Marc up into his arms, and ran, staggering through jarring tremors. Through the pounding noise, dust rained down on him, swirling into his eyes until all he could see was a bright prism before him.

He fell into it, managed a few more steps before he buckled, unable to move again. He felt through his broken hands a horrible shudder, now on top of him, when it should have stopped. Swift realization came that something else had to be done to close the Gate. Brutal panic seized him. He grabbed Marc again and reached for Dain who was closer to him, forced to leave the other behind. The black expanded toward them.

“Get up,” he screamed at himself, but he couldn’t hear the words even though he felt them tearing through his throat. “Please, get up. God, please.” That entreaty changed to a choked sob when he saw it. Despair obliterated thought. A barking roar blasted through his mind. The demon stepped from swirling blackness.

“He is mine.”

Dynan crawled backward, pushing Marc another space away from the thing that stood over them. There wasn’t any escape though. He pressed himself back, heart laboring under the strain to get to his feet. He wondered why he bothered, except he knew he didn’t want to die crawling on the floor before it. He forced his legs to work, praying all the while that Marc would wake up and know what to do. Pain spread from his chest, radiating through his whole body when he turned to face the demon. Death lay behind liquid red eyes.

“No,” Dynan said, shaking where he stood. “By the Gods will, no.”