Soul Forge (Book One of the Soul Forge series)
Chapter Thirty Seven...

Syd’s sides heaved as she chased down Sypher in the distance. Elda bent over her back, keeping her head down to help increase their speed in whatever way she could. The Soul Forge seemed to be following some sort of inert sense of direction, which meant the Corrupted had to be close by.

Elda pulled the reins gently to slow Syd down when Sypher noticed a dark shape on the horizon and barrelled towards it. She knew he’d be angry if she threw herself into the thick of the fighting beside him, and there was a good chance Abraxos wasn’t alone. She wanted to be ready in case Cynthia appeared and tried to attack Sypher while he was occupied.

The Soul Forge and the Corrupted collided in the air, Sypher’s sword slicing through the Wraith that carried him with such ease that the bird could have been nothing more than smoke. He yanked Abraxos from the back of the dying demon by his throat. The dark-haired elf snarled and swung a dangerous mace, forcing Sypher to release him. Elda watched the Soul Forge cock his head and let Abraxos fall.

Abraxos realised he was about to break some bones at the last second and pointed his mace at the ground, energy building inside it and pulsing out with enough force to jolt him upwards right before he hit the ground. He still landed heavily, but he avoided serious damage.

Sypher rectified that by crashing into him like a meteorite from the sky, dropping boots-first onto the Corrupted and slamming him into the dirt with an audible grunt. Abraxos crumpled, but his mace came to his rescue again. Lightning crackled from the deadly spikes and bit into Sypher, shocking him until he was forced to back out of its reach, his muscles convulsing. The elf got back to his feet and spat blood into the dirt.

The pair faced off, Sypher brandishing his sword, Abraxos swinging his mace. Elda watched them engage in a deadly dance, eyes scanning constantly for any signs that Cynthia was about to join the fight. She flinched when the handle of the mace smashed across Sypher’s cheekbone, splitting the skin and drawing a furious snarl from his lips. He pulled back his fist and fired off a punch that rocked the Corrupted back on his heels, following it with a blast of air that sent Abraxos sailing backwards. Impossibly, he flipped as he tumbled, landing lightly on the balls of his feet.

“You haven’t lost your touch,” the elf commented, keeping at a safe distance so he could catch his breath. His voice carried on the wind despite its smooth, soft tones.

“And you still rely on Cain far too often,” Sypher retorted. “Where’s Arden?”

“Alive.”

“Where?”

“Somewhere away from you and the others. Somewhere you can’t drip poison into his ear,” the corrupted shrugged.

Sypher threw back his head and laughed. “You really think you and Cynthia are on a righteous path?” he scoffed. “You kill people for fun!”

“And you kill people in the name of the Spirits you serve,” Abraxos grinned. “Soldiers, children, lovers, you name it. Am I really more dangerous than a man who can walk onto a battlefield and kill every living thing on it in one fell swoop?”

“Your order forced my hand,” Sypher growled back, baring his teeth. “I am only as dangerous as the person in control of me.”

“And how dangerous are you now that you have your precious little Princess to look after?” he goaded. For a moment, Elda thought he’d noticed her and Syd hovering silently in the night sky.

“More dangerous than you know,” Sypher warned. “Tell me where Arden is, Abraxos.”

“Not a chance,” the elf chuckled, and then he launched himself at the Soul Forge, swinging his mace like a bat. Sypher deflected the blow with his sword and planted a boot against Abraxos’ chest, kicking him backwards hard enough to make him stumble. Lightning flashed from the mace and singed Sypher’s wings in response, his hiss of pain audible even from a distance.

Elda found it hard to focus on her surroundings with the pair of them bent on killing each other, but she saw a movement, barely there in her peripheral vision. She drew her bow and sighted the swathe of blackness detaching itself from a thick copse of trees. She kept the string slack until her eyes adjusted, making out the details of yet another Wraith slinking along the ground instead of flying. A shock of flame red hair was visible on its back.

Elda pulled the bow string taught, an arrow of pure white energy appearing in her hands. The weapon buzzed with power that zipped up and down her arm until the arrow glowed like a star. Cynthia noticed the flash as she released it, but by then it was too late. It arced through the air, piercing the monstrous bird right between the ribs and exploding on contact. A keening shriek pierced the night when the Wraith disintegrated in a bluster of feathers and ash, throwing Cynthia into the air like a rag doll. Sypher shielded himself with his wings, but Abraxos didn’t brace himself in time and was sent tumbling backwards, skidding along the ground. Elda swooped down to land beside Sypher in the clearing, staying on Syd’s back and keeping her bow raised.

“You’re supposed to be back at the villa,” he noted.

“And we’re supposed to be a team. You’re welcome, by the way.” He arched an eyebrow at her, obviously impressed. Cynthia was already getting back to her feet but Abraxos was slower to move his beaten limbs.

“Tell me where Arden is,” Sypher demanded again. “Nobody has to die today. Just return him to us.”

“But I like killing things,” Cynthia pouted and the black whip sprouted from her left hand, her right brandishing the dagger that had left Sypher’s body a patchwork of scars. Elda bared her teeth and slapped the blue crystal on her bow, releasing her own dagger and pointing it at the Corrupted.

“Come and get us,” she challenged.

“Oh, I like you,” the Necromancer grinned, and then she was running towards them, the whip lashing out into the space in front of her to try and snag Sypher’s ankles. He lopped the end off of it and ducked low, sweeping a leg out to knock her feet from beneath her. She dove into a roll and recovered, coming up on one knee and flinging Lazarus just as Abraxos engaged with Elda where she perched on Syd’s back.

Elda leaned backwards to avoid the spikes of the mace piercing her eyes, then swung the bow out and bounced it off the side of Abraxos’ head before he could readjust under the weight of his weapon. He grunted and staggered backwards, landing on his back with an ‘oof’ when Syd slapped a hoof hard against his chest.

Sypher was still fighting with Lazarus lodged in his shoulder up to the hilt. The pain made him angry and in turn his movements grew faster, forcing Cynthia into a defensive stance. Elda stood over Abraxos, pointing her dagger down at him to keep him still. Syd hovered menacingly over him, her blank white eye boring into his, one hoof still placed on his chest.

Cynthia grunted when she was backhanded across her already bruised face, skipping back several steps to avoid the sizzling ball of flame Sypher threw after her. She leapt forwards and violently yanked the blade from his shoulder. He snarled in pain and sent a wall of air rushing at her, slamming her into the dirt and sending her tumbling over several times before she came to a painful stop.

“Tell us where Arden is,” Sypher asked once more. The Necromancer started to laugh, and then she put two fingers to her lips and let out a shrill whistle.

“Have fun fighting off my friends,” she grinned.

Elda looked back at the trees just in time to see the shadows come to life. A swarm of twisted, ugly demons crawled between the trunks; hounds with open, gaping sores and leathery skin belching fire from their fanged mouths and empty eye sockets. Tall, gangly creatures with long, taloned fingers, curving horns and eyeless faces. Things with multiple arms and sinewy, muscled legs, their faces resembling the skull of a deer. Arachna skittered among them as well, their fleshy limbs still managing to make an unsettling ticking noise even against the soft dirt.

Cynthia unleashed a burst of poisonous green flame from her Soul Blade, scorching Sypher’s wings just in time for a Wraith to swoop down and snatch her and Abraxos in its claws, carrying them to safety. The Soul Forge hissed out a pained curse, his wing ruined enough that he couldn’t fly.

There wasn’t even time for him to climb onto Syd’s back and escape - the demons had already surrounded them. Sypher shot Elda a warning look, silently instructing her to stay in the saddle, and drew his sword, his free hand lighting up with flickering fire. She put the dagger back into her bow and pulled the string, letting several arrows loose into the crowd of beasts, sending scores of them hurtling into the air with every blast.

Snarling, howling, growling, chittering - a cacophony of noise all around them drowned out the sounds of the arrows flinging flesh and limbs high into the air. Sypher set to work hacking and slashing, trying to create enough room for Syd to get off the ground. The tulpar demon stayed calm, lashing out with her hooves whenever one of the creatures came too close.

Elda’s ranged weapon became useless, the swell of beasts too near for her and Sypher to avoid the aftershock of the magic each one of her arrows unleashed. She switched back to the dagger, slashing wildly at any creatures that came within touching distance.

Sypher growled in anger and she saw his eyes darken, black veins spreading beneath his left eye as he drew on Vel’s power reluctantly. The demon soul burst forth with zeal, black shadows rising in a wave over the beasts closest and suffocating them to death. Fire followed, igniting the shadows until swathes of the creatures were writhing and blistered. Elda watched him tear into them while she continued slicing off fingers, slashing open faces and blinding the ones with eyes.

It took time to fight through the herd Cynthia had somehow pulled from nowhere, but eventually, Elda slid off of Syd’s back and started picking off the stragglers, thrusting her dagger into the sides of their skulls until no more demons moved. Vel’s chest heaved, his sharpened teeth bared at the mess of corpses.

“Vel?” He turned at the sound of Elda’s voice. “Thank you for helping us.”

“I helped me,” he replied, and then he was gone. Sypher blinked and shook his head, staring around at the carnage.

“Well, that was hard.” He bent and braced his hands against his knees for a second, then straightened up to inspect his damaged wing. “Are you and Syd alright?”

“We are. I don’t think Vel is, though. He looked at me like he wanted to stab me.”

“He’s jealous,” Sypher shrugged, watching the corpses begin to turn to ash all around them. “He’ll never admit it though.”

“Jealous of what?”

“Me. Because I told you how I felt and you accepted me.” He limped over and took her hands in his. “Are you and Syd really unharmed?”

“We’re fine,” Elda insisted. “You took the brunt of it.”

“My ankle is fine, it’s just a sprain. My wings do hurt though.” He released her fingers to pat Syd on the nose. “Do you think you have the strength to carry me with Elda?” She nuzzled his cheek and turned to let him into the saddle. He hoisted himself up and offered Elda a hand, settling her in front of him.

“Cynthia stabbed you,” the elf frowned. “With Lazarus.”

“Another scar for the collection then,” he shrugged, wincing when it pulled the wound. “I thought if I followed Abraxos I’d replace Arden, but they must have him secured somewhere to be able to leave him where he is and try to take more of the Keepers.” He tapped Syd’s sides, encouraging her into a gentle trot.

“So, a city then?”

“No.” He shook his head, brow furrowing. “A city would draw too much attention. Everyone knows what Cynthia and Abraxos look like. They’re hated across Valerus.” He scowled, remaining silent when Syd broke into a gallop and took them back into the air.

“At least the Corrupted went in the opposite direction to Valdren,” Elda tried brightly. “We were waylaid for enough time that they could’ve done considerable damage to Gira’s villa and harmed anyone in it, had they chosen to go that way.”

“Cynthia was still recovering from her last beating and Abraxos is a crappy fighter who is also now recovering from a beating. I doubt they’ll try anymore night time kidnappings now we know they planned to take Lillian.” He scowled. “Beyond that, however, we know absolutely nothing.”