The battle of Highpass against the demons while John battles for his soul.
There's action to be found in this chapter, but it's not as tawdry as some might like. Not to worry, there's enough naughtiness to pass the time and the promise of more to come! You can find Chapter 12 here, Chapter 1 here, and the story (Enchanted) that started it all here
John pushed off the ground and slammed his hands under the leaping demon's jaw. The fanged maw snapped shut and was driven upwards. John's face was spared but the creature still slammed into him, yanking him away from Helleen and sending him tumbling onto his back. The beast rolled free of him and landed on its feet like a cat. A very large, terrifying, horned cat.
Nude save for his dagger, amulet and boots, John knew he couldn't call his spear to him in time and his dagger would be all but useless against such a monster. The demon hopped to the side, rotating to turn and face him, and gathered itself to pounce a second time. Helleen was seconds away from making sense of it all. That left him with one choice.
He traced the spell form and guided the magic into existence. His right hand constructed a new pattern, one that required John speak arcane words to tie the spells together and give him the control he needed. He flung his right hand at the creature, gathering the magical flames in the process and projecting them in a cone of flames into the leaping monster.
The demon ducked its head away and curled in mid air to protect itself. Already in mid-air, the monster's acrobatics served to drop it to the ground beside John and it stumbled and rolled onto him. John's spells was knocked aside and he found himself staring up at the smoking and stinking hard leathery skin of the monster.
It flipped and rolled on him, driving the air from John's lungs even as it twisted itself and landed one clawed paw on John's chest. The monster stared down at him, mouth opening and a foul reeking hiss coming out of it. John gagged and swooned from the beast's horrendous breath.
The demon snapped its mouth shut and looked down at John's chest where it's claw lay. It pushed and flexed its claws, trying to drive them down. John's skin bent under the vicious claws but his dark magic reacted and formed a shield that reinforced his flesh even beyond the protection is amulet gave him. For now the claws did not pierce through... yet.
John caught the beast under its reptilian jaw again and fought to push it up and away. He kept the creature's mouth shut but that only caused it to snort and rumble deep in its chest. The claw on his chest dug and scraped, scratching flesh drawing blood. The demons' hind legs straddled him, gaining purchase by digging into the ground.
John traced the frantic form of a spell with his right hand and guided the magic into his hand. He let it build and was about to unleash it when the creature shifted its head and shoulders to the left. John had already begun to swing hand, however, so the glowing nimbus of magic in his palm slapped the creature's left shoulder at the same time the monster struck. The demon's spear-tipped tail snapped down into the space it had vacated and stabbed into the left side of John's chest where his magic was not focused.
John's spell burned eldritch lines across the beast's upper back. It leapt back off of him, ripping the bone-like blade of its tail out of John's chest. Blood spurted into the air while the demon staggered on its feet and shook its head, snapping at the air as though it could make the burning do away. Its left forelimb was slow to respond and dragged as it side stepped and tried to recover.
Helleen howled and charged. The beast snapped its head around but not in time to see the berserking gladiatrix. Her hand and a half sword smashed down between the short horns that ran along its back and hacked through charred hide and bone John's spell had left behind. The demon collapsed, its rear legs losing life in an instant.
The demon saw her clearly then and snapped at her, but Helleen ignore the fiend and kicked her foot onto its shoulder. She wrenched her sword free and drew it back, reversing her grip. John stretched out his hand toward her, his mouth open but no sound coming from his lips. Helleen only saw the demon and a field of red surrounding it. She drove the blade down, the point guided by rage into the cleft she'd already cloven into its back. The point went deep, slicing the muscles and tissues in the demon's chest and insuring it would never rise again.
Helleen stared down at the dead creature, reason rushing back. She blinked and saw John, his arm stretched out for her. A bloody froth coated his chest and his hand that covered the wound.
"Milord!" Helleen hissed. She staggered to him and fell to her knees. She stared at him and shook her head. Tears filled her eyes and ran down her cheeks. She put her hands on his and shook her head, refusing to believe the man she had just realized was what she yearned for was about to be taken away.
John's mouth opened and shut but the noises he made were less than breathy whispers. Blood speckled his lips and every breath caused more bloody bubbles to run down his chest. John reached up with his free hand and grabbed Helleen's shoulder. He squeezed her arm and then closed his eyes.
"No!" Helleen howled. She shook him, knocking his head against the ground and forcing him to open his eyes again. "I'll get Sadie! Don't close your eyes, damn you! Stay with me."
John tried to talk again and then sagged back down when he found he couldn't. He grimaced and tried to focus on what magic remained to heal himself. Preventing the monster from tearing his chest apart and surviving the wrestling they'd done had drained what power that remained. He'd been low before bedding Roxanne and then he'd had to give her so much back to create the contract that he wasn't much better off.
Panic began to tickle the edges of John's mind. Was he going to die? He'd been so engrossed in making Helleen his he'd made one foolish risk after another. Now this... his just rewards?
John focused his magic inside his chest and struggled to block the ragged hole in his lung. For a moment his breathing eased. He wasn't healed though, he was only prolonging the inevitable. He needed more... he needed...
"Sadie! Fetch Sadie, John's hurt!" Helleen shouted.
John glanced around and realized she was dragging him back into the village. He hadn't even felt her hands grab under his shoulders and hoist him up, yet here they were.
John looked around and recognized Artesia and some of the other villagers. He struggled to put names to faces. Mostly he stared at the shocked and angry look on Artesia's face. Was she going to hit him because he got hurt? She looked like she might. The thought almost made John smile.
Something tickled his throat and made him gag. He coughed and retched, spewing blood down his cheek and onto the ground. The magic slipped and his next breath bubbled out his chest. John winced and struggled to refocus the dark powers inside of him. Some demons could regenerate, he knew. Why couldn't he do that?
"Put him down!"
John found himself staring up at Zynga, of all people. That was funny too. Zynga used the form of a halfling and he was looking up at her. Did that make him a quarterling?
Zynga looked at John's chest and scowled. She shoved her fingers inside of it, making his chest burned like a burning torch had been shoved inside. He stared at her, paralyzed in agony and feeling the anger burn away the silly thoughts in his head.
"Use your magic to mend your wounds," she said. "It hurts and it will hurt again when I tear my fingers out of your mended flesh, but you must do it!"
John nodded and closed his eyes to focus.
"No! Milord, don't close your eyes! Don't sleep!" Helleen shouted at him and slapped his face.
"You stupid cow!" Zynga snarled at her. "He has to focus, he's not sleeping."
Helleen stared at Zynga and then looked back down at John. John gave her a nod and closed his eyes.
John called on the magic again. He thought to block the hole again but stopped. There was two holes, one in the front and one in the back. That creature's tail had the strength of a ballista behind it! He focused on mending his flesh instead and coaxed the magic into weaving the ragged flesh back together.
"Oh... oh, that's bad," John heard a woman say in the distance.
"Heal him!" Another woman retorted. Jennaca? Yes, that sounded like Jennaca.
"I can't," the first woman said. It had to be Sadie.
John sagged as he ran out of magic. The tendrils of dark nether within him were too faint to grasp anymore. He could breathe a little easier, but he'd barely begun to mend the exit wound and hadn't begun to repair the flesh Zynga's fingers plugged.
"I saw what you did to the runner! You can heal him, I know you can!" Jennaca argued.
"Were he a good man, yes, I could."
Jennaca gaped at her and then shook her head. "I don't know what you've got in your head, but this man is a good man. He is the best man I've ever known, and I've known paladins and the Patriarch of Leander!"
"There is darkness in him," Sadie said. "He is in league with--"
Jenna clenched her fists at her side to keep from strangling the priestess. "Isn't that up to your saint to determine? That's what I was taught. The servants of the saints are just that, servants. The judgment comes from above... or below, depending on the saint."
"It's not that simple," Sadie said. "They judge us, but we are to use our wisdom to know what is right and what is not."
"Hellfire," Zynga muttered. "He's not going to make it... Jennaca!"
Jennaca spun and then spun again, turning back to Sadie. "Please... just try. If you try and Eile says no... well, Eile's a fool. I can't argue the will of a saint though."
