The Demon Cycle Series Books 1 and 2. Peter V. BrettЧитать онлайн книгу.
by flashes of light that leaked through the shutters as wards flared. Rojer hated those harsh sounds, and the shrieks that came with them. He sat on the floor, striking his noisemaker harder and harder, trying to drown them out.
‘Corelings’re hungry tonight,’ his father mused.
‘It’s upsetting Rojer,’ Kally said rising from her seat to go to him.
‘Not to fear,’ Arrick said, wiping his mouth. He went to his multicoloured bag, pulling out a slim fiddle case. ‘We’ll drive those demons off.’
He put bow to string, and immediately filled the room with music. Rojer laughed and clapped, his fear vanished. His mother clapped with him, and they found a rhythm to complement Arrick’s tune. Even Geral and Jessum began to clap along.
‘Dance with me, Rojer!’ Kally laughed, taking his hand and pulling him to his feet.
Rojer tried to keep up as she stepped to the beat, but he stumbled and she swept him up in her arms, kissing him as she spun around the room. Rojer laughed in delight.
There was a sudden crash. Arrick’s bow slipped from the strings as everyone turned to see the heavy wooden door shaking in its frame. Dust, knocked loose by the impact, drifted lazily to the floor.
Geral was the first to react, the big man moving with surprising speed for the spear and shield he had left by the door. For a long moment, the others stared at him, uncomprehending. There was another crash, and thick black talons burst through the wood. Kally shrieked.
Jessum leapt to the fireplace, snatching up a heavy iron poker. ‘Get Rojer to the bolt-hole in the kitchen!’ he cried, his words punctuated by a roar from beyond the door.
Geral had snatched up his spear by then, and threw his shield to Arrick. ‘Get Kally and the boy out!’ he cried as the door splintered and a seven-foot rock demon burst through. Geral and Jessum turned to meet it. The creature threw back its head and shrieked as small nimble flame demons darted into the room around and between its thick legs.
Arrick caught the shield, but when Kally ran to his protection, Rojer clutched in her arms, he shoved her aside, snatching up his multicoloured bag and sprinting to the kitchen.
‘Kally!’ Jessum cried as she struck the floor, twisting to shield her son from the impact.
‘Damn you to the Core, Arrick!’ Geral cursed the Jongleur. ‘May all your dreams turn to dust!’ The rock demon struck him a backhand blow, launching him across the room.
A flame demon leapt at her as Kally struggled to her feet, but Jessum struck it hard with the poker, knocking it aside. It coughed fire as it landed, setting the floor alight.
‘Go!’ he cried as she got her feet under her. From over her shoulder, Rojer watched the demon spit fire on his father as they fled the room. Jessum screamed as his clothes ignited.
His mother clutched him tightly to her breast, moaning as she ran down the hall. Back in the common room, Geral roared in pain.
They burst into the kitchen just as Arrick yanked open the trap-door and dropped down. His hand reached back, slapping around for the heavy iron ring to pull the warded trap shut.
‘Master Arrick!’ Kally cried. ‘Wait for us!’
‘Demon!’ Rojer screamed as a flame demon scampered into the room, but his warning came too late. The impact as the coreling struck them knocked the breath from his mother, but she kept hold of him even as the creature’s talons dug deep into her. She shrieked as it ran up her back, its razor teeth clamping down on her shoulder and slicing through Rojer’s right hand. He howled.
‘Rojer!’ his mother cried, stumbling towards the washing trough before falling to her knees. Screaming in pain, she reached back and got a firm grip on one of the coreling’s horns.
‘You … can’t … have … my … son!’ she screamed, and threw herself forward, pulling on the horn with all her strength. Torn from its perch, the demon took ribbons of flesh with it as Kally flipped it into the trough.
Soaking crockery shattered on impact, and the flame demon gurgled and thrashed, steam filling the air as the water was brought to an instant boil. Kally screamed as her arms burned, but she held the creature under until its thrashes stopped.
‘Mum!’ Rojer cried, and she turned to see two more of the creatures scamper into the room. She grabbed Rojer and ran for the trap, yanking the heavy door open with one hand. Arrick’s wide eyes looked up at her.
Kally fell as a flame demon latched onto her leg, taking a bite of her thigh. ‘Take him! Please!’ she begged, shoving the boy down into Arrick’s arms.
‘I love you!’ she cried to Rojer as she slammed the trap shut, leaving them in darkness.
So close to the Dividing River, houses in Riverbridge were built on great, warded blocks to resist flooding. They waited in the darkness, safe enough from corelings so long as the foundations held, but there was smoke everywhere.
‘Die from demons or die from smoke,’ Arrick muttered. He started to move away from the trap, but Rojer clung hard to his leg.
‘Let go, boy,’ Arrick said, kicking his leg in an attempt to shake the boy off.
‘Don’t leave me!’ Rojer cried, weeping uncontrollably.
Arrick frowned. He looked around at the smoke, and spat.
‘Hold tight, boy,’ he said, putting Rojer on his back. He lifted the edges of his cape to seat the boy in a makeshift sling, tying the corners about his waist. He took up Geral’s shield and picked his way through the foundations, crouching to crawl out into the night.
‘Creator above,’ he whispered, as he saw the entire village of Riverbridge in flames. Demons danced in the night, dragging screaming bodies out to feast.
‘Seems your parents weren’t the only ones Piter shorted,’ Arrick said. ‘I hope they drag that bastard down into the Core.’
Crouching behind the shield, Arrick made his way around the inn, hiding in the smoke and confusion until they made the main courtyard. There, safe in Geral’s portable circle, were the two horses; an island of safety amidst the horror.
A flame demon caught sight of them as Arrick broke into a run for the succour, but Geral’s shield turned its firespit with a flare of magic. Inside the circle, Arrick dropped Rojer and fell to his knees, gasping. When he recovered, he began to dig at the saddlebags desperately.
‘It must be here,’ he muttered. ‘I know I left … Ah!’ He pulled a wineskin free and yanked off the stopper, gulping deeply.
Rojer whimpered, cradling his bloody right hand.
‘Eh?’ Arrick asked. ‘You hurt, boy?’ He moved over to examine Rojer, and gasped when he saw the boy’s hand. Rojer’s middle and index fingers were bitten clear away; his remaining fingers still clutched tightly about a lock of red hair, his mother’s, severed by the bite.
‘No!’ Rojer cried, as Arrick tried to take the hair away. ‘It’s mine!’
‘I won’t take it, boy,’ Arrick said, ‘I just need to see the bite.’ He put the lock in Rojer’s other hand, and the boy clenched it tightly.
The wound wasn’t bleeding badly, partly cauterized by the flame demon’s saliva, but it oozed and stank.
‘I’m no Herb Gatherer,’ Arrick said with a shrug, and squirted it with wine from his skin. Rojer screamed, and Arrick tore a bit of his fine cloak to wrap the wound.
Rojer was crying freely by then, and Arrick wrapped him tightly in his cloak. ‘There, there, boy,’ he said, holding him close and stroking his back. ‘We’re alive to tell the tale. That’s something,