27. Dark Night of the Soul

Sarophax's scream of rage echoed in the vast, empty hall. A flurry of slashes with her claws rent Tash's body. Chunks of leather and flecks of Tash's blood flew outward in a flurry. The demon ended her eruption with a brutal kick. Stronger than a human by far, the blow sent Tash flying yards away. Her body rolled, then piled to an insensate, motionless heap.

The sight contracted Séa's belly into a dense, dead knot of infinite gravity. Hot tears flooded her eyes and she wailed, "Tash, my love. It wasn't supposed to be like this. I was supposed to die first."

The succubus snatched the longsword from the floor and whirled on Séa. "Grab her, boys."

The demonic minions obeyed. In a moment, they gripped her arms. It didn't seem necessary. The circlet's geas still held Séa's limbs imprisoned.

Between spasms of grief the paladin prayed, "Lend me hope from your endless fountain, Endurer, for my light has died and I have none left of my own."

Sarophax dug the point of the sword into Séa's leather-covered chest. Pain radiated from the spot, and yet Séa barely felt it.

"And you," the succubus screamed at Séa, "can fucking ... stop ... praying."

Stop praying.

The geas settled over Séa like a lead blanket of chainmail. A blankness blotted the world away into a blizzard of arctic white. The bleak whiteout wiped away her voice, her lifelong training, her very self. Blades and bolts of unseen lightning laced the unquiet void in which Séa writhed, bringing agony beyond anything she had ever imagined.

In the distant realm of the here and now, the succubus exhaled in a huff. "Finally. Well, this isn't fun anymore. Goodbye."

Séa's eyes closed.

Sarophax swung the sword, angled to behead the paladin.

The blade bit— into the head of the incubus that held her arm. With a shrug of her shoulder, Séa had sent the fellow into the path of the slicing blade.

The paladin's eyes opened, and they shone a silvery white. "Don't tell me," she murmured, "not to pray."

Sarophax backpedaled. The sword remained embedded in the skull of the incubus minion, who screamed and spasmed, ripping the hilt from the succubus's grasp. The other minion drew his own sword and aimed its tip at Séa's midsection.

"You are banished," Séa told the swordsman.

He exploded into a cloud of black smoke.

"Stop!" Stop! "Stay still!" Stay still.

"No, demon," Séa said. "I love my god. I love him."

The demon with the sword through his head lost its human shape. Its skin blackened, and horns extruded. Its eyes burned orange-red. Wildly, it clutched at Séa.

"You're banished, too," she said. Her body began to glow a divine blue as the demon's presence on the material ended and the swords clattered to the floor.

Sarophax's eyes squeezed to slits to block the divine radiance. She had become the sole operational demon in the room. She backpedaled and her mouth dropped open. "Unbelievable." Her voice rasped.

Séa scooped up the longsword and advanced upon her.

For a split second, the succubus held still. But the tiny flash of courage ended swiftly. With a whimper, she swiveled and pelted for the door. Her demonic tail lashed under her dress.

From the floor, Tash spoke, little louder than a whisper. "Stop her, Séa. She's going to get the king, who will command the guards."

Séa's stomach leapt. Heat flamed in her cheeks. As if enchanted, her feet veered toward the crumpled pile of leather and rat's nest of black hair. The paladin slid to the marble floor and scooped the battered half-elf into her arms.

"Dumbass," griped the rogue.

"By the hand of Torugg, be well, my love." Her bodily glow shifted from blue to pink, and her hot tears mingled with Tash's blood.

"Crazy woman," the rogue mumbled, "you already healed the steward, you can't ... can't ... oh, that feels so good." Tash uncrumpled like a balloon being inflated.

The glow faded. Their eyes met. "You go get her," Séa said through lips that numbed as she spoke. The tingling rapidly spread through her body, pleasant and frothy.

The great hall's door-within-a-door popped open before the succubus arrived. A thigh-high woman in wizard robes stood there. The small figure pointed her index finger at Sarophax, and the circlet of subversion popped from her head. The gem-studded artifact floated high into the air.

The succubus pinwheeled her arms in fruitless grabs at the hovering circlet.

The little wizard gestured again, and the great double doors ponderously opened wide, revealing a row of people, thick, thin, tall, and short. Each wore wizard robes except one: Steward Ophelle still wore the stained, ragged dress of her captivity.

Sarophax pivoted and stabbed a glare at Séa and Tash as they picked themselves off the floor.

"Oh, come get some, bitch," Tash growled.

But the succubus clutched at her own dress and ripped it off. Unfurling pastel blue wings, the demon leapt for the ceiling. She snatched at the hovering circlet on her way up, but the tiny wizard waved her hand again. The circlet whisked away to safekeeping.

The succubus beat her wings, grunting with effort. She spiraled toward a high window. As she arrowed through the window, a magical lightning bolt zapped up and through her. She screamed and disappeared.

28. Normalcy

The electric magic's source was none other than Ghomarck. The old man shook stray sparks from the ends of his fingers. "Excellent telekinesis, Journeyman Ee," he wheezed at the tiny wizard.

The halfing replied, "Thank you, Master Ghomarck."

Back near the throne, Séa failed to rise to her feet. She plopped on her ample derriere. A big, woozy smile consumed her features. "I'm all high, Tash."

"I know. High on religion again. You shouldn't have healed me. One of these times you're going to, I don't know, fry your brain trying to channel so much divinity."

The paladin caught at Tash's hand and pulled her close. She attempted to kiss Tash's lips but kissed her jawline instead. "You din't stab me. Thanksh."

"Yeah, it—" Tash's voice thickened, as if suddenly gummed up. "I couldn't. I love you too much."

Séa's eyes blurred. Perhaps with the dizziness of the divinity-hangover, but perhaps with tears of joy. "Need that inn. Well, maybe a bath, too. But you. I need you."

"You can't even stand up right now, doofus."

"Need you," Séa insisted. "On me or under me. All day and night."

Ghomarck's dry voice rasped from a location practically at their elbows, "Glad to know everything's back to normal."

A/N: Aw.

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ONC recommendation:  check out this zany adventure by pixelmum :

Lara Croft, archaeologist and brazen tomb-raider, unearths her latest, greatest discovery: a golden apple capable of giving its bearer anything they desire. Except that everyone else seeks the apple's power, from corrupt tech companies to supernatural beings. To complicate things, the golden apple has inexplicably transported a furious Diana, queen of the Amazons, from the Olympian Realm into Lara's world. And she is beautiful when furious.