“Then will you explain?” I asked.

  “Why not?” He shrugged his tentacles. “A reminder,” said Zazgen. “If thou shalt fail...thine souls will be cursed to haunt this place and keep my company until I am freed.”

  We gulped. “No pressure,” I said.

  “Think of it as...motivation.” He grinned.

  I chuckled nervously. “Was that the kind of motivation you used for the shadows?”

  “Indeed.” Zazgen chuckled. “Art thou ready?”

  Oswald and I nodded. I focused on the amulet. The dark power in it awakened and flowed into me. I gasped, but I didn’t have time to revel in the pure ecstasy of it.

  I jumped away from Oswald while pulling bone fragments into a spinning shield. Not having to blood-let was a definite advantage over before.

  [Cristof: Necro armor?]

  [Oswald: Probably our only chance to survive.]

  [Cristof: You go first. I’ll buy you time.]

  [Oswald: Understood.]

  I ran at Zazgen as Oswald rolled backward. I felt the pulse of necromantic energy from him. Apparently, so did Zazgen. Tentacles lashed out toward Oswald. I blasted them upward with the bone fragments then pulled more toward me. Zazgen growled in frustration and sent a mighty fist flying at me. I flattened myself to the ground and rolled.

  As he overreached, I blasted his gut with a giant fireball and came up to my feet. He sent his tentacles flying at my face once again, and again they hit my bone shield. Angered, he roared, swung at me, and missed. But it was just a feint. He swung his tentacles overhead, intent on smashing me into the ground.

  I jumped to the side as the tentacles smashed into the stone where I’d been standing. As I rolled, I discharged my entire complement of bone shards right at his eyes and recast the spell, pulling in even more shards. The cavern was littered with bones, after all.

  “Aaaargh!” bellowed Zazgen.

  “Switch!” yelled Oswald. He jumped in front of me and caught a razor-sharp tentacle with his clawed hand. Oswald, now sheathed in necrotic armor, went toe to toe with Zazgen.

  I took several steps away from their fight and focused on my magic. I pulled from the bloodmist and cobbled together my own necrotic armor from the remnants of the garrison soldiers.

  The pain never eased. Bone and muscle fragments ripped from corpses and exploded from the ground. The pieces integrated easily into my own muscles and bones. My body, now twice the size, bulged with muscle. I had added bone armor embedded in the outer layer of muscle. Preemptively, I cast a double Bone Shard spell and pulled even more fragments from around me.

  I jumped forward with explosive force and blocked a blow meant for Oswald’s head. He took advantage of the opening and raked Zazgen’s torso with dagger-sized claws. Blood sprayed my face. I used it to further enhance my muscles. Whoa. Demon blood packs a punch! I didn’t really see using his blood to fuel my magic as an offense. It was on me, after all.

  Zazgen kicked Oswald in the gut and sent him flying. I pressed the attack and met him head-on. One of his clawed tentacles scored a hit across my kidney. I grunted as I swung in an uppercut and caught him on his split chin. He moved back a few paces but did not fall. I checked the damage. It was healing quickly, but the pain was undeniable.

  I turned to check on Oswald when a tentacle swept my legs out from under me. I rolled as best as I could and came up on my feet just in time to catch a large chunk of stone. The force of the throw sent me flying.

  I managed to somersault over the boulder and land on top of it as it slid across the cavern floor. Oswald landed on his back several paces from me. I sat for a moment, panting. Oswald grunted and stood. Not to be outdone, I followed his example.

  I focused my will on the amulet. It opened its power to me, and my energy expanded farther than I could have ever thought possible. I nodded to Oswald. He nodded back. I willed a huge fireball into existence and sent it at Zazgen. As soon as it was away, I ran at Oswald. He conjured a wall of black flame between us and the Demon, then began to run toward me.

  When we collided, the muscles and tissues of the armor turned to liquid and began to expand with help from the donations of the corpses that surrounded us. We opted for two tentacles and four bulging muscular arms as thick as tree trunks. We kept the bone armor just beneath the skin. We were getting quicker at assembling our battle construct.

  Zazgen roared. With a mighty stomp, he doused the flames. He rushed forward and hit us in the chest with a mighty punch. The energy of the blow shoved us back a good twenty paces, but when we stopped, we were still standing.

  “Very good!” he bellowed. “Now, show me what your willpower and determination is capable of!” An aura of pure hellfire erupted around his body. He leaped toward us, tentacles swinging in an arc. We tossed our tentacles at his and spun them in a circle, looping around them and catching them all. As we closed the distance, we willed every bit of power we could into our right arm and slammed him across his jaw. Blood and teeth exploded through his cheeks.

  The cavern shook with the impact.

  “It’s him or us,” I sent telepathically to Oswald.

  “No mercy then.”

  “I hope this works… Discharge the amulets.”

  Power rippled through our construct causing our muscles to bulge to three times their previous size. We reared back and slammed him again. Bones cracked and shattered. The cavern shook again. Zazgen tried to pull his tentacles free, but they were so intertwined with ours that it was useless. He moved to push himself off the ground. We slammed another fist into his face, and he collapsed to the cavern floor once more. He tried to rise again. Out of desperation, we began raining consecutive blows from all four fists. The upper arms focused on his face and the lower arms on his chest.

  After a good five minutes, we were exhausted. And Zazgen wasn’t moving anymore. Blood flowed freely from several parts of his body. His split, serrated jaw was shattered in two on one side and dislocated on the other side.

  His jaws twitched, and he wheezed. “Well fought...young ones.” He gasped a breath. “Thou art indeed worthy adversaries.” He coughed a spray of blood and closed his eyes. “Until we meet...again.” His chest heaved one last time and then stopped. A surreal black glow washed over his body, and he faded away.

  We stood there, transfixed, for what seemed like an eternity. We released the spell and let the meat and bone fall away.

  “That was intense,” said Oswald. “You don’t think he was holding back, do you?”

  I shook my head. “No. I don’t think he was. In fact, I think he went all out. Otherwise, he’d be vanquished, remember?”

  “That’s true.” Oswald grimaced.

  “What’s wrong?”

  He shrugged. “I just can’t imagine a society like theirs.”

  “Yeah.” I stretched my shoulders. “Come on. Let’s get back to the village.”

  “Huh. My amulet is drained,” said Oswald.

  I checked the level on mine. I frowned. “Same. I suppose we will have to recharge them. Somehow.”

  As I held it in my hand, it vibrated for a moment. A trickle of my blood dripped down my wrist and was absorbed into it. The amulet hummed happily.

  “Whoa,” said Oswald. He passed his own amulet over his wounds. The blood was absorbed into it as well, leaving a dull stain on his skin. “It only took a small charge, but it’s something.”

  “I see…” I flipped the amulet over in my hands, examining it. “So, we need to feed it blood.” I willed a small amount of bloodmist into being. It swirled around the amulet. It wasn’t until I willed it that it was absorbed. “The bloodmist isn’t sucked up automatically. But regular blood is.”

  “Hey...I have an idea.”

  I arched an eyebrow. “Do tell?”

  “If we learn an advanced healing spell—something quick and regenerative, we can use the energy in the amulets to keep ourselves alive longer during a fight.”

  I nodded. “I like it.” I thought for a moment. “I wonder if we can use two amulets at once?”

  Oswald tossed me his. “Worked with the construct. I don’t see why not. Should be enough power in it to find out.”

  I focused on both amulets. Power surged up both of my arms. Green sparks started to arc off my body.

  “Wow,” gasped Oswald. “I can literally taste the power coming off you.”

  I willed the energy away and handed him his drained amulet. “We need to find more artifacts like these.”

  “Definitely.” He stretched. His back popped in several places. “Should we gather up some of the armor and weapons?”

  I frowned. “I’m not sure I want to. All this shit was up Zazgen’s ass... Still smells too.”

  Oswald burst out laughing. I gave him a quizzical look.

  “Can you imagine shitting out a sword? Jeez…”

  I joined him laughing. We found a burlap sack back in the hut and filled it with any expensive-looking gear.

  By the time we returned to the village, it was mid-evening. We went to Sigurd’s shop and walked in carrying several sacks of gear.

  Sigurd smiled. “When Tabitha told me that you did not return last night, I began to worry for your safety. I am gladdened that—” He sniffed the air and his eyes narrowed. “You both smell of Demon. And shit.”

  I nodded. We told him everything we had learned and gave him the legionnaire captain’s journal.

  “That is most troubling,” he said. “And you were able to kill him?”

  “Yeah,” I said. “It was a bit closer than we’d have preferred.”

  Sigurd smiled. “Of that, I have no doubt.

  He looked through the burlap sack. “I can offer you some silver for your spoils if you like. Or you may haggle with the blacksmith.”

  I shrugged. “Pay us what you think is fair. Just don’t screw us.”

  Sigurd grinned. “I would not dream of it.” He reached into his pocket and retrieved a satchel of coins. “There is two hundred silver in there. I would pay you more; however, I am holding on to the rest for you because you are buying dinner at the tavern tonight in celebration.”

  “Celebration?” we asked.

  “Yes,” said Sigurd. “Defeating my father is something indeed worth celebrating.”

  “Your father?” I asked.

  He nodded. “We can discuss that later. Come. The mayor will need to be told of what has transpired in your absence.”

  Tamsin, a plump older woman, put her hands on her hips. “And just how did you two children accomplish this?” Her voice was high-pitched and grated on my nerves.

  “You only need to worry about the results.” I glared at her.

  Oswald nodded. “Right. Don’t ask questions you don’t want the answers to.

  “But—”

  “They are correct,” said Sigurd, cutting her off. “Just as you respect my privacy, I would expect you to give them the same courtesy.” He glared at her, daring her to second-guess him. When she said nothing, he continued. “These boys have a talent for getting results. Best not to look a gift horse in the mouth while in dire need.”

  “But they’re children!”

  “So what?” I barked.

  Oswald put a hand on my shoulder. “We’re children by your standards. By the standards of our town and culture, we were grown men the moment we completed our six-month pilgrimage in the deep desert and returned alive.”

  “Six months?” she asked. “How could kids survive—”

  “Oswald. We’re leaving. These people can deal with their own fucking problems.”

  He shook his head, and we turned to leave.

  “Wait,” said Sigurd. He turned to Tamsin. “Can you not shut your mouth and put aside your prejudice against children because you cannot have your own? We have an opportunity to do a great service for our village. And whether or not they are children by our laws, they are adults by theirs. And they obviously can handle themselves. They have slayed a Demon!”

  “You dare speak to me this way?” she fumed. “Sigurd, you would do well to remember your place—”

  “I dare!” he bellowed. The ground shook, and the torches momentarily dimmed to pinpricks. I could have sworn his body grew to tower over her.

  Her face paled, and her eyes grew several sizes.

  He took a deep breath. His body returned to normal, and the torches returned to full brightness. “I have protected this village from the Demon onslaught for one hundred and seventy-five years. I will not allow someone with such a small mind to throw away such an opportunity.” He gestured to us. “This is our solution. I cannot venture out into the wilds and protect our village. So either find another solution or get out of our way. If you prefer, I can arrange for something—unfortunate—to happen to you and we can find a replacement mayor—one who is more, shall we say, open-minded.”

  “N-no,” she stuttered. “That won’t be necessary.

  He grinned. “Most excellent.” He turned to us. “Thank you both for your patience and understanding. I will see you both at dinner in a few hours.”

  We nodded. As we passed Tamsin, I glared at her again. She simply stared at her feet and said nothing. I nodded to Sigurd, and he returned the gesture.

  “That was intense,” said Oswald as we left the village hall.

  “Yeah.” I looked around. A small crowd had gathered at the tavern. “Let’s go get cleaned up. Then we can eat.”

  “Hell yes.” His stomach growled. “I’m starving.” He sniffed himself. “And smelly.”

  We both laughed. We headed straight to our room and cleaned up. I was putting on my shirt when Oswald sighed contentedly from his bath.

  “Hey,” he called. “Ever notice a nice hot bath always feels better after a few days out in the desert?”

  I chuckled. “I’m not sure if it’s the easing of the pain or the cutting of the grime.”

  “A bit of both, I’m sure,” he said. He closed his eyes and leaned back. “I heard rumors as a kid about something called a hot spring. Supposed to have pools of boiling hot water in the ground.”

  I arched an eyebrow. “Yeah? Wasn’t that just someone pulling your leg?”

  “I dunno…” He grinned. “Might be worth looking into though.” His eyes went out of focus as he stared off into the distance, imagining it.

  “At some point.” I tossed him a towel, and he caught it. “C’mon. The bath will be here when we get back. The kitchen, however, won’t be open all night.”

  He jumped out of the tub and quickly dried and dressed. As we opened the door, a commotion echoed up the staircase. We descended into the crowded tavern.

  “Over here!” Sigurd shouted over the din of the crowd. He waved us over to an empty table. We joined him as heaping plates of foot were dropped off in front of us. Oswald and I dug in with reckless abandon.

  “This is delicious,” I said.

  “So good,” mumbled Oswald as he stuffed more food in his mouth.

  Sigurd laughed. “Apparently, fighting Demons garners quite the appetite.”

  I nodded. “I don’t think I was this hungry even during my pilgrimage.”

  Sigurd leaned toward us so as to not be overheard. “It’s the artifacts that you carry. When you use them, it does more than just give you power. It increases all of your biological functions. Including your metabolism.”

  “Huh,” said Oswald. “So we should be stronger, faster, that sort of thing?”

  Sigurd nodded. “And burn through energy much quicker. And if you’re not careful, deteriorate quicker as well.”

  I arched an eyebrow. “You mean age quicker?”

  He shrugged. “Same difference.”

  I looked at Oswald. He nodded and turned to Sigurd. “Would a regenerative spell counteract the aging?”

  Sigurd scratched his chin and furrowed his brow. “It is quite possible. I am not sure. I have never given it much thought.”

  “What about getting our hands on a couple more of the artifacts?” I asked.

  Sigurd laughed. “You mean two infernal artifacts are not enough to sate your appetites?”

  I grinned. “It’s not about that.” I looked around to make sure no one was listening. I leaned closer to him. “I tried using two at once. It pushed my power to a level I’d never dreamed possible.”

  Sigurd’s jaw dropped. “You used two of them? At once?”

  “Yeah?” I asked. “Why?”

  He shook his head. “My dear boy, with that much Demonic power, you should not be sane, let alone alive.”

  Oswald and I looked at each other. He shrugged.

  “I feel fine. I didn’t notice any ill effects.”

  Sigurd nodded. “May I examine you?”

  “Sure?”

  He nodded. “Please follow me outside.” He stood and pushed his chair in.

  We followed him outside into the darkness. Torches flickered on the tavern wall. He faced away from the building.

  “Do I have to do anything?” I asked.

  “Not a thing,” he said. “Just stand there.”

  I nodded.

  His eyes began to glow a deep crimson as he looked me up and down. “Remarkable. There is not a trace of Demonic influence.”

  “That’s good,” said Oswald.

  “Indeed.” He turned to Oswald and checked him as well. “How is this possible?”

  I shrugged. “Could it have anything to do with our connection to our magic?”

  “I suppose that’s possible.” He frowned. “Blood magic and necromancy inherently cross the borders between life and death as well as good and evil. It is possible that shields you from the influence of the artifacts.”

  “That’s great,” said Oswald. “How do we get two more?”

  “You both want this power?” he asked.

  We both nodded.

  “There might be a way I would be willing to help you with that.” He thought for a moment. “I have need of supplies and reagents. The village has need of trade. I would send the two of you to trade on my behalf and pick up my supplies. I would pay you with my own boons. Would that be acceptable?”

  “Almost,” I said.