Page 57 of Gladiator Moon

Nearby, the blue-skinned woman I noticed earlier spins through three opponents at once, all four arms moving independently. Across the chamber, a winged silver warrior snatches one demon off the ground while another former prisoner buries a spear through its chest. No demon dies or disappears, but at least they are weakened. Indeed, the battle is changing. The demons still outnumber us, but for the first time, they are losing ground.

When a deafening roar echoes through the chamber, I look up to see that the Dark One has finally moved away from his bone throne. In fact, he has stepped down from the dais surrounding the throne. His molten eyes find mine. There is no hatred there. Just... concern. Well, he should be concerned; after all, his kingdom of suffering is unraveling.

I tighten my grip on the Devil Killer.

Chapter Twenty-five

Another wave of demons comes at me, and I meet them head-on.

Sebastian’s training guides my wrists and feet. Archangel Michael’s lessons guide my wings. My own skill and speed handles the rest.

I slice, turn, and kick. Over and over again, one demon after another. I duck beneath spear thrusts, dodge swords, axes, claws, and jaws. Dark smoke rises up seemingly everywhere, dispersing somewhere near me.

Across the chamber, the freed warriors push deeper into the demon horde. The battle no longer looks impossible, though the demons remain stronger than almost every individual mortal they face. It is the ordinary prisoners I need to protect at all costs. They shouldn’t survive imprisonment only to be cut down minutes after gaining their freedom.

As for the warriors, they have been kidnapped and forced into the Games just like me, but now they are free and fighting by choice. So I leave them to it. Indeed, as a group, they seem to be gaining the upper hand on the demons. The problem being, of course, is that demons don’t truly die. Not unless they are cut down with the Devil Killer.

So I launch myself over a swath of mortal prisoners. Most are dressed in rags and doing their best to band together and stay alive against the bloodthirsty horde. I settle before the mortals and swing the Devil Killer in mighty arcs, striking anything horned and fanged and ugly. Demons vanish into black smoke one after another, and those nearest me quickly begin shrinking back from the glowing blade.

My crazed actions have the desired effect. The moment the demons retreat, the mortal prisoners find their courage and erupt in cheers.

I glance over just in time to see one of the arena beasts crash through the demon line. The creature is roughly the size of a rhinoceros, covered in overlapping bony plates, supported by six powerful legs, and sporting a mouth that opens sideways instead of up and down. It roars angrily. I have no idea whether it is friend or foe, but at the moment, it is trampling demons.

So... friend it is!

I leap into its wake and cut down the broken and demolished entities, putting them out of their misery, which I doubt they deserve. I can only imagine the torment they have caused to the mortal prisoners. Meanwhile, a four-horned demon covered in burning chains leaps onto the beast’s back. It wraps the burning links around the beast’s massive throat. I am about to help the beast, but something much smaller runs down the rhino’s broad back. Salt Creek!

The little wood nymph darts between the demon’s legs. Then hamstrings it with both her swords. She races up its corrugated back, then launches herself from its broad shoulders. I can’t help but notice the long gash that appears almost magically at the demon’s throat. As black blood bubbles out, I finish off the bastard.

The rhino beast is spared and continues doing damage to the demon horde.

Meanwhile, Salt Creek catches my eye from across the throne room. She raises one of her mini-swords triumphantly. I answer by lifting the Devil Killer.

“Samantha!” Azul’s shrill voice cuts through the chaos. “He’s getting away!”

I turn toward the little wizard, but he is pointing beyond me. Toward the Dark One.

The Dark One is no longer standing before his throne of bones. Instead, he is making his way toward a rear archway I somehow hadn’t noticed before. Shadows gather there, thick and strangely alive, swirling around the entrance as though guarding it.

I look across the throne room at prisoners, gladiators, guards, former guards, arena beasts, wood sprites, freed slaves, and creatures from worlds I cannot even begin to imagine. All of them are fighting together now, all of them refusing to surrender to the demons.

One diminutive figure rises above them all.

Baltazar.

The little wizard hovers over the battle, blasting demons with bolts of lightning from both hands. Somehow, his voice reaches me clearly through the tremendous noise.

“Samantha Moon! I have broken my blood bond with the Dark One. I am afraid the magic that binds us all will now claim my life.”

That gets my attention. “How soon?”

“Hours. Perhaps days.”

“Baltazar... why did you do it?”

“Because I am tired, Samantha Moon. Tired of the Games. Tired of kidnapping warriors from their homes and families. Tired of watching good people die because the Dark One hungers for it. My father did this before me, and his father before him, and I was expected to carry on as though I didn’t have a choice.”

His eyes find mine across the chaos.