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The bubble closed back over the demon’s neck and the demon looked even more furious.
For a moment I thought that was funny. I almost chuckled at the struggling, strangling demon until Melfor looked at me. He scowled and didn’t even need to move his lips: from his eyes a blast of red light shot towards me, hitting my sword which moved without my guidance, and reflecting back towards the wall, where it blasted a two feet wide hole in the stone.
It didn’t go all the way through, but there was a circular indentation about half a foot deep where the stone had been. And the stone itself was just gone.
That hole was the size of my head. Once again I’d been an idiot and Carolina had saved me. All of this was my fault, and I was lucky to be alive.
I heard something in my song change, and then there was a second bubble, covering the demon’s head.
This seemed to enrage it further and then everything went crazy: there was a great ripping sound, and it felt like I was being torn open from my face down to my gut.
Melfor was out. The song was broken, wrong, somehow. Melfor waved a claw and I felt another kick in the stomach.
Minifrest was out too. The song was over.
There was loud, joyous laughter and a smell of gunpowder and sulfur.
The two demons were expanding, their bodies growing until they were taller than any of us, over six feet tall, but still floating in the air.
Well, Minifrest, that was quite a pickle we were in. But now that we’re out, who should we kill first?
The pimply boy. Let’s rip him apart, eat him, and then eat the pixie bitch in the sword for dessert.
Temper, temper. Those pixies can be quite tasty, though. Haven’t had one in ages.
That was when I felt Woltan stir beside me. “Demons are not welcome here.”
This set Melfor into a cackle of glee. “Talk about stating the obvious, there, Woltan, old chap. Not welcome, you said?” And then he was giggling again.
He flicked a finger at Woltan.
A ball of fire shot towards him, and Woltan raised a staff. The ball of fire hovered in front of him. Woltan whispered something, and the ball of fire shot back towards the demon, who caught it in his hand and started throwing it back and forth, up and down. He began whirling it around until it moved so fast I could no longer follow it.
“Shall we play catch? Fast pitch, perhaps?”
And then the ball shot forth, and I was sure there was no way anyone could be prepared for it, but somehow my sword was up, right in front of my face. The ball of fire hit the sword and broke in two, and I felt the heat on my face, and smelled burned hair.
There was no pain, however.
I brought the sword back down and walked forward.
Anders, what are you doing?
I shook my head, and reached out and grabbed the demon.
The demon’s arms felt hot and slippery in my hands, but did not burn me. I said a word. Kalt.
Melfor looked at me, surprised. There was something like recognition in his eyes, and then it said: Herr.
Then the demon started to change colors from red, to green, to blue, to white, and then he was immobile and white.
I raised the sword and swung it, and the demon’s head fell to the ground with a hiss of steam. Then there was an explosion of purple light and sulfur stink, and a scream.
Nooooooooo!
I felt claws on my back, on my neck. Of course, it was the other one.
The claws hurt. I wanted to twist around and have at her, but the demon held me from both sides of my back. I raised the sword and struck blindly behind me, putting all my anger and fear into my blows.
