Demons

By Doug Ward

The war isn't going well for the Army of Light, and something is wrong with Den. To make things worse, an ever-increasing number of demons are driving the evil horde forward and they are winning. How will our heroes win in a battle that is so slanted against them?
This is the third book and is the exciting conclusion to the "War of the Stone" series.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Doug Ward
• Release date: Jun 19, 2019
• ISBN: 9780463607305

Doug Ward

Doug Ward currently lives in Western Pennsylvania and is a graduate of Slippery Rock University. He has a BFA is in Fine Art and spends much of his time doing oil paintings, which incorporate mythology and science, and writing.Doug's most recent series is "The War of the Stone." It is a fantasy series that introduces his world and the mythological beings who inhabit it. The first book is called, "Lich." If you like goblins, necromancers, and mayhem in general, this series is for you.Of his first series, The True Story of the Zombie Apocalypse, Doug Ward says, "I like to write about parasitic zombies. They feel (to me) more scientifically grounded than other types. It's also pretty scary how many parasitic creatures are inside of us at this very moment. Some have even bonded with us for so long that they are actually a part of our DNA. Parasites have been known to take over their hosts. A few years ago, my wife called me from a friend's house and said that a mouse kept trying to snuggle with the cat. Actually nuzzling up to the cat's face. I quickly informed her that the mouse was infected by a parasite and that they needed to remove it from the house immediately.The parasite wanted to be eaten by the cat so it could continue its life cycle in the bowels of the unfortunate creature. This flatworm not only controls mice, but it can infect humans as well. "I have blended many scientific ideas into Parasite, which is a four book series.Saving Jebediah is a fun piece of fan fiction I wrote for a contest Mark Tufo was having. It should be read as a prequel because the characters in Saving Jebediah turn up in the 4 book series."If you want to get in touch, you can find him at https://wardswoods.wixsite.com/dougward, tweet him @authordougward, and check out his fan page at https://www.facebook.com/wardswoods/.

Book preview

Demons

By Doug Ward

Edited by J.D. Reed

Copyright 2019 Doug Ward

Smashwords Edition

Introduction

The war isn't going well for the Army of Light, and something is wrong with Den. To make things worse, an ever-increasing number of demons are driving the evil horde forward and they are winning. How will our heroes win in a battle that is so slanted against them?

This is the third book in the War of the Stone series.

License Notes

This eBook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This eBook may not be resold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the writer's imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locales or organizations is entirely coincidental.

Acknowledgements

Thanks to Scott Lee who is the guy I always bounce ideas off of. My wife, who has to hear all of my crazy thoughts, Megan Rzestarski for helping me develop an idea that I could not figure out, and a big, special thanks to my awesome editor, J.D. Reed. Without him, I wouldn’t have a readable sentence in the book.

Table of Contents

Chapter 1 The Witch

Chapter 2 The Whispers Abate

Chapter 3 Out of the Frying Pan

Chapter 4 I Can’t

Chapter 5 A Horrible General

Chapter 6 Oh, That Book

Chapter 7 Cold Feet

Chapter 8 A Desperate Meeting

Chapter 9 What a Coincidence

Chapter 10 A Change of Plans

Chapter 11 Things are Getting Worse

Chapter 12 Home Sweet Home

Chapter 13 Grim Tidings

Chapter 14 The Invention of Skipping

Chapter 15 Memories

Chapter 16 Cellmates

Chapter 17 More Skullduggery in the Dark

Chapter 18 It’s Now or Never

Chapter 19 Alone in the Mine

Chapter 20 Fear

Chapter 21 Visiting Father

Chapter 22 Becoming Unhinged

Chapter 23 The Breaking Point

Chapter 24 Disappointment

Chapter 25 Pyre

Chapter 26 Betrayer Revealed

Chapter 27 Sensing the Kill

Chapter 28 Almost The End

Chapter 29 Skipping

Chapter 30 Inside the Press

Chapter 31 Waste of Life

Chapter 32 Hand to Claw Battle

Chapter 33 Using What’s at Hand

Chapter 34 What the Heck is That

Chapter 35 Victory

Chapter 36 The Fellowship is Broken

Chapter 1

The Witch

Zoey gave Den some of the food she had prepared for her mistress and the two sat near the fire and spoke of their past. Den told the young witch about Springdale and how he had defeated the lich. He even warned her of the war raging to the north, but he kept any mention of Meg to himself.

The sorceress, in turn, told him about her life. She was just a child when her father died in an accident. Everyone in the village had donated what coin they could to her mother so she and her child could survive, but their money didn’t last long. Her mother, Rissa, began helping her neighbors as a midwife and a seller of herbs. The tinctures and potions she brewed were innocent and lacked any hint of magic, but the simple villagers cast a suspicious eye on her activities. The people who were once so giving and supportive now muttered dark rumors behind her back.

Fearing for their lives, Rissa sold their nice home and moved into a small cottage outside of town. Witches are not respected. They are thought to be agents of evil, women who gave aid and advice but always for a dark price. That, however, isn’t the truth. Witches use nature to power their spells and, worst of all, Rissa was not even a witch. She hadn’t the slightest inkling of how to use magic. The problem here arose from her daughter, Zoey.

It seems the child had the gift of natural magic. At an early age, she was able to command plants and animals to act on her behalf. The village children often made her the brunt of jokes, bullying her with no mercy because she and her mother were so poor. After her powers had emerged, she often fought back in inconspicuous ways, a vine miraculously tripping a would-be prankster or birds suddenly attacking a group of children who were making fun of Zoey. This not only caused grief for her tormentors, but drew even deeper suspicions upon both her and her mother.

The young witch had little control over her abilities. She was a wildling, exploring a power she did not understand and endangering everyone around her due to her inexperience.

Rissa warned her daughter to keep her magic a secret. She knew Zoey needed to be mentored by a proper sorcerous, but she didn’t know how to find one.

It was about the same time that Tam Dannerson’s cow birthed a calf. The unfortunate baby was born with two heads. Tam went mad with rage and blamed the tragedy on Zoey and Rissa, both.

Fearing for Zoey’s life, she begged her daughter to flee into the woods. Ignoring the girl’s protests, she continued to argue her case while stuffing cheese, bread, and other foodstuffs into a satchel. The young witch refused to budge, but as she watched her mother break down in despair, she had a change of heart.

Zoey picked up her satchel and dashed toward the forest. As she passed the woodpile, she noticed a long, slender sliver of wood poking out of the stack, its edge jutting out and upward at an odd angle. The observation seemed insignificant, yet, for some reason, it gave her pause.

Then she heard her mother crying. This gave her a renewed resolve. Zoey sprinted for the woods once again. Concealed in the shadows of a large tree, she hesitated, her love drawing her back to the cottage, but before she could act on those feelings, a group of men entered the small clearing in front of her home.

They called for Rissa and the girl, and as her mother emerged from the building, Tam Dannerson loomed over her, casting baseless accusations about the woman. Zoey’s mother looked so small and frail while being cornered by the mob of burly men. She cowered before the animated farmer as he twisted his suspicions into truths.

Zoey bit her lower lip in frustration as a tear rolled down her cheek. The girl’s fists were clenched in anger, but she kept herself hidden in the shadows, as her mother had asked.

Without warning, Tam struck the woman, sending her sprawling against the woodpile. As the others surged forward, Zoey could take no more. She raced from the shadows; the satchel bouncing loosely against her hip. When she was close enough, she cast a spell. Bees, wasps, and hornets all heeded her mystical call. They flew into the angry mob, harassing the angry men and stinging them repeatedly.

As more insects joined the attack, the mob fell into disarray. Men dropped whatever they were holding and flailed at their tiny tormentors, crying out in anger and pain. In the chaos that ensued, the simple folk began to flee. One by one, they broke from the clearing before the cottage and raced down the path by which they had come.

Zoey couldn’t hold back a soft chuckle as she watched Tam and his mob disappear into the trees, but her joy was short-lived. Turning, she saw that her mother was still lying against the woodpile. Her body was contorted at an odd angle.

Dropping to a knee, she knew instantly that what she had experienced was a premonition. She also understood that her mother was dying. Although Rissa’s eyes were closed, she was still breathing.

Sliding a hand along her mother’s cheek, the young witch begged her mother not to leave, but there was no way of stopping it. The wound was too severe. Zoey knew that if she pulled her mother off of the jagged sliver, she would die almost immediately from blood loss. The piece of wood was giving her a few last precious moments to be with her mother.

Clenching a fist in anger, Zoey vowed to seek revenge, but in a soft voice, her mother reasoned with her daughter.

After you kill them, what will you do? she asked. You can’t stay here. Their widows and children will grieve and they will hate you.

But they deserve to die, the witch growled through clenched teeth.

It was an accident, Rissa explained in a withering voice. They didn’t understand. In a twisted way, they were trying to protect themselves.

Zoey’s cheeks were wet with tears. But it isn’t fair.

No, child, it isn’t. But, don’t cause anyone else to grieve. Let them be and leave this place. There’s nothing left of you here.

*****

So, I ran, the young witch told Den while wiping at a stray tear with a knuckle. I traveled for many weeks, sleeping in hedgerows and scrounging for food in the wild, before I found Skeggie. Or maybe she found me. We witches have a strange connection with one another.

Yes, we do, replied a voice from the door. Skeggie stood in the doorway. Behind her, a thick fog veiled everything beyond the entry. The storm had ended a while ago, unnoticed by the two youths who were getting to know one another in the snug and warm cottage. And what brings our budding wizard to this humble home?

I need some answers, Den answered.

And you seek this from a lowly old hag? Why not ask your master, Finnious?

What I came to ask is outside of my master’s realm of experience, he conceded.

His words seemed to mollify the witch, who set her bag of mushrooms on the table and indicated for Zoey to start the meal. While she prepares supper, you can tell me what you require.

Skeggie pulled out a chair and sat opposite the young mage. Den, in turn, sat, and looking down, stated his question.

Is it possible to return life to the dead?

Squinting at the odd request, the hag took a moment before speaking. What you ask is beyond any magic. I doubt that even the gods could do such a thing.

But their life force is still somewhere. There has to be a way to restore it.

The old hag’s eyes softened. You’ve suffered a loss recently. I know what happened to your village. It was a tragedy, but I sense that there was someone special to you who suffered an untimely fate.

Den broke down. In a choked voice, he explained what had happened to nearly everyone he knew. He pointedly left out Meg and that he had recovered his love and had her kept safe in the keep’s dungeon.

Zoey remained silent, busying herself with the food while her mistress soothed the distraught young man. As Den calmed down, Skeggie assured him, What you want is impossible. Their life force has crossed over into the land of the dead.

But you can speak to them, he reasoned.

That is merely piercing the veil between worlds, she explained. I doubt that someone can come back after they’ve made that journey. I believe it is one way.

The young witch brought the two of them bowls of creamy soup.

Crestfallen, the young wizard quietly stirred his soup, taking no notice of Zoey. The hag, normally quick to point out bad manners, let the mage be.

Would it help if I could let you speak with her?

Den’s heart fluttered at the thought, but he held his emotions in check. It is too risky. I remember what happened to you the last time.

The last time, I was rebuked by a lich, she reminded him. Besides, I won’t be the one casting the spell.

The young man’s brow furrowed in confusion. Slowly, he looked at Zoey, who was just sitting down with some soup of her own. Her sizable grin answered his unasked question.

We can do it tonight if you’d like, she offered.

*****

Do you have something of the person who you’d like to contact? Zoey asked as her mistress stoked the fire on the hearth.

Nervously, Den remembered the bracelet of Meg’s hair that she had given him before he had left. He made a motion to take it off, but the young witch placed a hand over his, stopping him.

You needn’t remove the token. I merely have to touch it to focus on the one you desire, so keep it near me.

Are you ready? the old hag asked.

Yes, Den mouthed.

I meant the girl, Skeggie corrected him.

Zoey breathed a deep, cleansing breath and nodded. Words from an old and strange language rolled off of her tongue and were followed by gestures meant to enhance the enchantment’s power. As the magic took form, the room brightened with a distinct, reddish glow.

As had happened before, Den felt a small portion of his strength ebb away as the young witch borrowed from his life force. He understood Zoey was also doing the same to any dead in the immediate area.

A few moments later, a dark form rose from the fireplace and began speaking to the girl. This shade was smaller than the one Skeggie had summoned before, but it was equally ominous.

Without taking her eyes from the shade, Zoey reached for Den’s wrist. The mage was embarrassed that it was shaking so much, but she didn’t seem to notice as her cold fingers came to rest on the bracelet.

The hedge maid and the dark figure both fell silent for a few heartbeats before Zoey said, He says the one you seek is not there. Is it possible that she has not passed?

She is not among the living, he responded woodenly. Meg was risen as a zombie by the lich, Marasmus.

Then her spirit has not crossed over yet, she explained. Is there another that we might contact who could ease your grief?

Faces of his friends flashed through the wizard’s mind, but seeing their faces once again only caused him grief. As he was about to tell her no, an idea occurred to Den. Is it possible to summon a dead goblin?

It is possible, Zoey confirmed, but it is also unusual. All living creatures have a soul and reside in the land of the dead in their afterlife.

Then I would like to talk to Skum.

The young witch removed her hand from the bracelet and placed it on Den’s forehead. Concentrate. Think of this goblin named Scum.

Den thought of the massive, undead goblin. He only knew the goblin’s name from Marasmus’s journal, but it should be enough, he thought.

Zoey, once again, spoke to the shade. As time passed by, the wizard felt that there was a problem. All at once, the large silhouette of the goblin appeared in place of the shade.

No! Not again! the dark form bellowed in despair.

The shadow of Skum was speaking in his native language, goblin. Zoey was at a loss, but for some reason, Den could understand it quite easily.

Easy, big fellow. It’s alright, the young spell-caster soothed, speaking fluent goblin in turn. He realized it was through the enchanted amulet at his throat that he had the gift of languages. I only want to talk to you.

You’re not bringing me back from the dead again? the dark form asked as if dreading the answer.

No, Den assured him. I only want to speak with you.

Skum’s shade leaned forward, looming above the magic-user. It’s you.

It is, he confirmed. When I released you from your unnatural life, you said that you owed me. I’ve come to collect on that debt.

You’re not going to make me back into that… thing?

Of course not, the wizard confirmed. I just want some information. When we are done, you can go back to your rest.

The huge shadow seemed to grow slightly smaller as it relaxed. Then, ask what you want and be done.

When you served to Marasmus, did you ever witness him returning life to the undead?

Maybe you should ask him, Skum growled.

Den chanced a quick look at Zoey before returning to the shadow. I don’t think invoking the shade of a lich would be such a good idea.

The goblin gave a growling laugh. I wouldn’t know about such things.

Den grew impatient. Did you ever see him restore life?

No, Skum said. He was a taker. He cared nothing for the pain he inflicted. I will hate him for eternity for what he did to me. Why do you ask?

Marasmus turned the girl I love into a zombie, the mage blurted out.

Then, kill her, Skum told him.

The young mage’s eyes narrowed to slits in anger at the goblin’s offhanded remark.

Skum, seeing the wizard’s ire, added, Your love is living a tortured existence. I tried to kill myself, but it was to no avail. By prolonging her undeath, you will only be tormenting her with your humanity.

Frustrated, Den asked Zoey to send the shade of Skum away. As the summoning was dispelled, Den returned to the table and slumped heavily onto a chair.

Did you get the answers you were searching for? the young witch asked, sitting weakly across the table from Den.

Not exactly, he mumbled.

Skeggie pulled a chair next to the sullen mage and sat. As she placed a hand on his knee, Den’s eyes met hers. You are dwelling in darkness, young mageling. I hear ancient voices whispering in your ears, powerful evil that is trying to take root in your mind. You must fight this influence, or you will succumb to it.

I’m fine, Den lied.

I speak many languages, my young friend, she informed him. You must not continue down this road.

In her eyes, Den saw great concern. She was speaking from the heart. It hurt him, being so consumed with his problems that he was neglecting everyone else who cared for him.

I need to go. Thank you so much for all of your help, he said, rising abruptly and turning for the door. As he took his first step, a broom, which had been leaning against the nearby wall, fell, tripping the wizard and sprawling him onto the floor.

Darn it! Skeggie spat. That hob needs to go.

Why don’t you just kill it? Den growled while brushing his knees off.

Because it is a living thing, she said in a shocked tone. It’s part of a hob’s nature to be a trickster. You just don’t kill fairy folk because they’re an inconvenience.

Chapter 2

The Whispers Abate

Back inside Dunn Moor Keep, much to the young wizard’s relief, Den found the outer chamber of his apartments empty. He let out a soft sigh and, after entering his room, closed the door behind him.

Stacks of his personal library were strewn about his room in haphazard piles. The place looked ransacked, but it was by his own doing. In his haste to find a way to bring his love back from the dead, he had read and discarded the evil tomes wherever they had fallen. It was beginning to resemble Finnious’s cottage in more than one way. He hadn’t noticed that the books had been accumulating in such numbers until he had returned from the witch’s home. It was like he hadn’t realized their presence in such bulk while he was here before.

Giving in to his old sensibilities, he opened the magical bag and began to store the books he read into neat piles inside. As he put the old tomes away, he could hear faint whispers trying to distract him from his task and had a feeling that he needed to keep the vile books at hand. He slowly became distracted from his task by any little thing he noticed, but he stayed resolute and finished stowing the books and parchments before closing the extra-dimensional space and setting it on the table near his seat.