Page 45 of Red Demon (Oria #1)

Battle on the Third Hill

I looked up, following the path of the arrow that lay lodged in Havoc’s brain. I saw nothing: the visor’s heat detection was useless with so many trees to block the scope.

The dizziness faded enough for me to stand. I had to clear my head, get to Ash, tell him everything. We needed to walk the narrow path to survival together.

I waited as long as I could, counting to sixty, one hundred twenty, one eighty. I kept my body low in the brush as I peeked out at the ridge.

“We’re under attack. Havoc is down,” I said to Command. “Shot right beside me.”

“Roger that,” said Command. “Did you see the attacker?”

“Just a flash of movement through the scope. Didn’t get a clear view.” I heard a scream from farther up the forest: the perimeter guard in a nearby sector.

Fuck, she was still killing.

“There’s a second man down. Stay low, backup is on the way,” Command said.

More footsteps behind me, then nothing. I looked back to see three soldiers, dropped low to the ground with their crossbows out. I recognized Eight, Scar-arms (whatever his name was), but not the third helmeted soldier.

“We’ll cover your retreat, Biohazard. We’re pulling back patrols,” Scar-arms said, flicking up the visor to speak. “Stay low.”

Turning back, I saw a flicker of her through the visor, her scarred skin and green eyes peeking out behind a tree. Why was she still here? I couldn’t aim at her when she saved my life again, even if she appeared to. She assessed her shot before her arrow flew, whizzing past me.

Scar-arms, right in the eye.

“Fuck,” Eight said, breathing hard a body’s length behind me. “She’s fast. I can’t aim that fast.” He called Command. “Capri is down, caught with his visor up.”

“And Jesse Eirini?” I heard in my headset.

“Biohazard’s alive,” Eight said. “The Red Demon can match our range.”

“You got visual?” Command said.

“That’s why I said Red Demon, Ma’am.”

“Stay covered, Eight. We’re sending Mahakal’s squad.”

When I peeked over the hill again, I saw no sign of her, no heat on the visor.

Before long, a squad of ten soldiers approached from behind us. Clad in full battle armor: Chaeten leather, black helmets and chest plate. They came from behind us, covering our retreat with their bodies so we could turn back to camp. I stood, my legs shaking a bit with each step.

We reached Mahakal, his face grim. He levied a hard, calculating stare at me with those creepy black eyes.

“Jesse,” he said, his voice tight. “Keep up, or go back to quarantine.”

I dragged my hands down my face, my heart pounding. After Havoc, I decided I was safest in a group, with witnesses. My breathing heaved as I trailed Mahakal’s quick strides across camp.

Mahakal’s personal squad circled us, prowling like a pack of lions with their full gear and raven wings on the arms of their uniforms. We reached the other side of the camp and beyond and kept walking down the valley.

“Sir?” a soldier asked. “We’re going out at night?”

“We’re the ambush, Huan, not her,” Mahakal rumbled.

“What’s the plan, sir?” Huan asked.

“She’s alone; we have the numbers to take her down.

We’re joining Navarro’s unit on the third hill, in case she makes a move.

Ren and Ovid’s units are circling to take her from the back of the second,” Mahakal said, gesturing to the hill where she’d attacked from.

“Foul’s squad will cover the front. The rest hold camp on hill one. ”

“Her last position?” Huan asked.

Mahakal held up a hand. “Quiet comms only from here. Command, fill in my squad,” he whispered into his own headset.

A low hum filled my ears, then static as the surrounding soldiers nodded, listening.

They could hear instructions I couldn’t.

Frustration bubbled up, and I tried to speak. “Sir, my comm—”

Mahakal again motioned for silence.

The ground leveled and rose under the procession of our boots, with my headset only buzzing in my ear. We reached the ridge, the wide trees leaving ample places to hide and wait. The wind brushed cold at the summit of the hill, whistling through the surrounding branches.

I saw a familiar outline, a gait I could recognize anywhere. Asher dropped to a crouch beside an oak, scanning the ridgeline with his crossbow. Looking up to me, I thought I imagined his smile through that helmet.

With a relieved breath, I saluted mind and heart, then took a step toward him, until Mahakal grabbed my elbow to stay.

I leaned into him. “Orders, sir? My comms are—” His gloved hand clamped over my mouth before I could finish.

“Quiet,” Mahakal said, his voice low and urgent. He didn’t move away, even when he removed his hand from my mouth.

Confusion clawed at me; Fear.

Mahakal’s black eyes locked onto mine in the pale moonlight. “Stay still,” he whispered. Then, a cold glint of metal pressed against my throat. Istaran, humming blue only where it touched the skin of my throat.

He nodded to a member of his squad, who dropped to his bag, retrieving rope. The soldier motioned for my hands as I jerked them away.

Istaran pressed against my exhale. “You don’t need to be afraid, Jesse,” he whispered. “Just ... act afraid.”

The soldier pointed to a tree, a small one in the underbrush I could have put my arms around.

Mahakal’s grip tightened further, Istaran’s point digging into my skin as he prodded me toward it.

The adrenaline from the attack, the confusion of his threat, and the remnants of my illness, it all muddied my head.

“You’re bait, Jesse,” he said through his teeth. As the soldier secured me, he put his finger to his comm, his eyes roving the valleys before he turned back to whisper in my ear. “Time to scream. Howl at the moon, wild dog. Convince the mutt.”

Panic gnawed at me, a cold serpent coiling my ribs. Mahakal’s hand clamped around my neck, muffling the questions hammering in my head. Did he think it was that simple? Faruhar would scamper up from low ground at the sound of my voice? Voids, she probably didn’t even remember who I was.

When I laughed at the absurdity of it all, Mahakal drew blood on my neck. I jerked my head back into the bark, feeling terror for the first time. I remembered the look in Havoc’s eye before he drew, a look so much like Mahakal’s right now.

“This is as real as you need it to be, even if I have to gut you with your elder’s sword,” Mahakal growled. “Scream like the traitor you are!”

My scream burned like shame up my throat, a raw, desperate plea that echoed through the dark trees.

As my voice faded, the forest echoed silent, too silent: not an owl or chirping insect.

Then, surrounding the hill as far as I could see, blue light webbed on the low ground between hills, clusters of Oria like fallen stars on the forest floor.

I took in a sharp intake of breath, unsure what that meant.

“That’s impossible. Scan with other frequencies then,” Mahakal hissed into his comm, his voice raw with anger.

“Ghosts don’t have magic,” Huan said to his comm. Mahakal’s black eyes glittered as he gave a signal for Huan to shut up, gesturing to me.

All other soldiers listened to their comms, the only sound in the forest the rustling of the soldiers in their gear. Ash turned back to me, tense, but I could not make out his face through the helmet.

Mahakal growled, a sound deep in his chest. “Then hold your position. Full aerial assault. Target each one,” he whispered into his comm.

Static crackled in my ear again. Mahakal’s gaze darted around the perimeter, the soldiers frozen in various states of apprehension. The blue glow pulsed again, seeming to mock their confusion. Resolve hardened Mahakal’s face.

A distant rumble echoed through the trees before the night sky erupted.

Orange streaks of light tore through the darkness, slamming into the forest floor with an explosion.

The ground trembled beneath me, and ripples of warm shockwaves rustled my hair.

Mahakal watched the valley with grim satisfaction as his surrounding soldiers roved their eyes in all directions.

Two soldiers guarding the flank were the first to lift their visors, looking up.

Two arrows fell from above in less than a second, piercing through eyes to skulls as the explosions crashed around us. The other soldiers began pulling off their chest armor and helmets, swatting at their skin.

Ash removed his helmet too. No. Why? What was happening?

Over the sounds and lights of the explosions, she dropped gracefully from the trees.

The Red Demon’s swords sliced through eyes and between gaps in Chaeten leather: two kidneys sliced in one brutal blow, a head pierced, red hair flying.

My breath hitched in my throat. Three, then six more soldiers down as the last of the mycelial lights winked out.

Mahakal was still on his comm, eyes on the rumbling valley.

“It’s her!”

“Ash!” I cried.

Mahakal turned smirking, then froze as he saw the dead.

Faruhar ducked, slicing as the crossbolts flew. She launched off bent shoulders to pivot off a branch and keep killing with both swords. I strained at the ropes, my voice lost in the fray.

Before a soldier could put his helmet back on, Faruhar’s blade pierced under his chin through to his brain.

She grabbed and speared a soldier in front of her chest, giving the dead the arrow meant for her.

Faruhar kept killing, silent and precise.

When Mahakal and the remaining soldiers tried to circle her, she leapt for the trees, scaling the bark with flashing swords, and knives built into the inner side of her boots.

An arrow glanced off her armor. She pulled another from her leg, stashing it in a quiver before turning out of view.

Mahakal snaked away from me with a roar, throwing down his crossbow and unleashing his own blade, Istaran sheathed at his belt.

Desperate, I scanned for my brother in the darkness. “Ash!”