Legion Read online

  Legion

  The Dark Rituals

  Book Four

  By Catrina Burgess

  This story is dedicated to my nieces and nephew: Natasha, Megan, Jim, and Kamryn. If the zombies attack, be brave and stay strong.

  But most importantly: remember who you are, pick up the nearest axe, and start kicking some zombie ass.

  Table of Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Acknowledgments

  About the Author

  Copyright

  Chapter 1

  I sat in a small clearing in the woods, surrounded by tall trees and deep shadows. Around me the spirits of the forest slowly gathered. Large and small, they moved into the clearing and found places to settle. Deer and rabbits lay side by side with wolves, foxes, and bears. As they moved, the moonlight glittered off of their insubstantial forms, giving them the illusion of solidity. A wolf came and sat beside me, its soft, brushing touch somehow both warm and cool as mist. One by one they sat with me, joining me to watch the girl sitting on a log near the center of the clearing. A small fire lit the girl with a golden glow. She looked delicate and pretty as she sang in a sweet little girl voice. It was a song I knew by heart, a song my mother used to sing me to sleep when I was a child.

  The little girl’s lilting voice reached out to soothe me, to calm my soul. The music washed over me, healing my injuries and leaving me feeling fresh and new. I listened and let all the fear and pain inside me fade away. A wolf spirit limped into the light. A long black gash sliced across its gray shoulder. The wolf came close to the girl and collapsed at her feet. Without stopping her song, the girl reached down and laid her hands on its head. For a long moment nothing happened, but then slowly the black gash moved. It crawled across the surface of the wolf and slithered up the little girl’s arm. Once on her, the blackness oozed over her, like a leprous octopus looking for a place to hide until, finally, it spread to her face. Her eyes seemed to suck the blackness in, to shred it and absorb it. For a moment they turned completely black, and her voice took on an echo of the darkness she’d taken in. Screams and cries of anger resonated in harmony with her sweet little song. And then her song ended, and the wolf rose slowly to its haunches, weak but once again whole.

  Out past the firelight, in the shadows, a guttural roar sounded and then another. Soon, the woods were full of the sounds of trees creaking and groaning as if whatever approached shoved them aside like blades of grass. I sprang to my feet, panicked with the need to protect the girl and her charges, but they didn’t seem to share my fear. They rose in unison and turned to face the oncoming threat without any haste or concern.

  Three massive figures stepped into the clearing—huge, imposing, dark figures. The largest was three times my height, with heavy legs and the cloven hooves of a bull. Long horns extended from the sides of its head. Leaves and branches caught on the horns as it tore free of the trees. Its frame was blocky, its face hidden in shadow except for its eyes—two blood-red rays of light that pierced the shadows and glowed with menace as they swung my way.

  The creature on the right was only half as tall and oozed over the ground. It was a mass of tentacles that extended from a torso shaped vaguely like a man’s. Hundreds of bright-orange eyes covered the tentacles, moving rapidly back and forth and looking in every direction as the tentacles waved through the air.

  The last figure was the most hideous. It was the bloated form of a hugely obese man, and it waddled behind the others, its face contorted and twisted. Where there should have been hands there were instead clawed talons that clutched the bloodied haunch of an animal—a deer that had been torn in half. It was the shortest of the monsters, but it still stood twice my height. It leaned over and took a bite of the carcass, displaying rows of sharp triangular teeth as its mouth opened wide enough to swallow me whole.

  All of the creatures crunched to a halt at the edge of the clearing, stomping and roaring. They were clearly making threats but would not advance any farther on the girl and the animal spirits.

  The child still didn’t look afraid, and the animal spirits weren’t fleeing, not even those for whom standing still was not in their nature. Deer and chipmunks stood shoulder to shoulder with wolf and bobcat, facing down evil incarnate without fear.

  And then I saw why.

  While my attention had been on the invaders, I hadn’t noticed that something else had come into the clearing behind me. Towering motes of air, whirling mists of spirit and will—the old gods. Had they deigned to notice the conflict? Two of the gods moved over, around, through us, toward the three looming threats. Why were they interfering? Was this their domain? As the gods crossed the space between us, their mass increased until they filled all of the sky. Suddenly I felt tiny and insignificant, dwarfed by something far greater than myself. I felt beneath their notice and then strengthened by the knowledge that they did notice me, and that they were there, in part, to protect me.

  The old gods paused, if a tornado can pause, waiting for the monsters to recognize their peril and leave. But they didn’t. Instead the three began to produce dark weapons from thin air—blades glittering with hellfire.

  The horned monster spoke with a voice like breaking rock. “She is ours. You have no right to her.”

  My heart froze. Would the old gods forsake me? Had my actions caused too much harm? Would they give up on me completely? Or worse: turn on me like the rest of the world had?

  In response, I felt a rush of air surround me, and a golden warmth filled my body. I was not forsaken, I felt loved and cherished, and my fear began to fade. I felt the old gods send a firm, inaudible denial to the creatures. And I knew in that instance that they would never allow me to be taken.

  Something touched my hand, and I looked down to see the girl at my side.

  The child spoke. “I must go.”

  “Go where?” I asked.

  “With them,” she said, nodding toward the waiting monsters.

  Panic filled me. “No!” I reached out to grab her, but she moved away from me.

  “I have to—it’s not time yet. You aren’t ready.”

  I tried again to get ahold of her, but she had moved out of my reach.

  She looked behind her at the monsters and then back at me. “Three demons in their true forms might be a match even for the old gods. When the time comes, we will stand together. We will fight. The battle will likely kill us all, but what choice do we have?”

  At the word demons, my heart pounded hard in my chest. They had somehow been released into this world. There were no demon hunters left. How could we fight the demons? How could we vanquish them before they destroyed us?

  There was no fear visible in her determined little eyes as she turned and walked toward the creatures.

  I tried to follow the girl and stop her, but where she walked easily I felt like I was swimming against the tide. The air was too thick, and my body moved through it like molasses. I screamed in frustration as she reached the three monsters. The octopus-like demon moved forward, ready to envelop the child in its tentacles. The girl smiled back at me sadly before being swallowed in the monster’s dark embrace…

  I woke in a cold sweat. It was only a dream. The Legion had not been released. It was just a horrific nightmare, one that I’d been having every night for the past week. My heart still pounded hard in my chest, and sweat covered my bo
dy. I lay on my cot and listened to an owl hoot somewhere out in the forest. Every time I closed my eyes, images of blood and death raced through my mind. I tried to push them away, tried to clear my exhausted brain enough to sleep, but no matter how tired I was I could not quiet my thoughts. How many horrible experiences did it take before you became a horror yourself? Was I already there? The thought banished any hope of sleep.

  A light flashed across the walls of the tent as the guard made his hourly patrol. As soon as the light disappeared, I rolled off the cot and walked to the zipped flap of the tent’s entrance and held my breath as I pulled the zipper down. The noise seemed so loud in the silence of the night, but when I emerged on the other side, no one was there.

  Moonlight lit the way as I pushed through bushes and trees. My ever-constant fear was there just below the surface, and in response to it, I heard the howl of a wolf on the wind—my spirit pack. They were always close by. Anytime fear raged inside me, my pack swirled into being, ready to fight and protect me.

  I didn’t want them around now. If they came, anyone who was awake would know I was sneaking around alone in the dark. I stopped, took one deep breath, and then let it out. I forced myself to be calm. The sound of the wolves drifted away.

  I slowly made my way through the trees to a nearby outcrop of rocks. It was not the first time I’d been here. I blended into the shadows as I climbed, trying not to dirty my gray jeans and sweater. I scrambled over loose dirt, gripping the sharp edges of boulders until, breathless, I stood at the very top. Settling onto a large flat rock, I looked down at the campsite. Dozens of lights from lanterns and candles flickered in the night. Three-dozen wood cabins were nestled in the trees and smaller tents were scattered all around the forest. How many death dealers had made it to the stronghold? One hundred? Two hundred? More stumbled into camp every day.

  My perch raised me above the dense forest, giving me a view of the small valley where the camp lay. Tents and cabins were situated on one side and a river wound through the other. Huge old trees were packed tightly together between the rocky slopes, but I could glimpse the steep, narrow road that provided the only access to the camp on the valley’s far side. I could also see a few of the areas where the road was partially washed away by decades of weather and neglect. I shuddered as I remembered the hair-raising ride to the bottom of the valley and the narrow wooden bridge that crossed the river. I could hear the river flowing nearby, but I could only see a few flashes of reflected moonlight on the water through the trees.

  The whole area was breathtaking in daylight, but I found my new home claustrophobic. Hidden down among the pines in the valley, it felt like the rest of the world didn’t exist.

  We were in the middle of nowhere, far off the beaten track. It was too far to lure any tourist or casual hikers, and that’s what the Phoenix Guild loved most about it. They had bought the property, which had been built by some over-optimistic developer fifty years ago, and used it frequently as a retreat.

  The Guild had several of these types of places scattered around the country, some even more remote than this one. It was hard to imagine a more isolated place. If you didn’t know this valley was here, it would be almost impossible to find. The heavily camouflaged road turned off of a disused mountain track. If someone did brave the narrow road, they would be visible for miles.

  The world had become a dangerous place for those who practiced the Death Arts. They came here looking for a safe, secure place to stay. The death dealers may have felt there was safety in numbers, but I didn’t feel safe. These people didn’t accept me as a member of their guild, and they made it very clear that they considered me an outsider. When I walked among them, I could see looks of fear, disgust, and hatred blazing from their eyes. They blamed me for the plight of their people, and they weren’t wrong—it was my fault. I raised a demon, I made the dead walk again, and because of the things I’d done, death dealers were now hunted and killed.

  “Can’t sleep?” a voice whispered to me from below.

  “I needed some air,” I answered.

  I knew he would come. He always did. Every night for the last week, I’d snuck out and found refuge on the rock outcropping. It was the only time I felt free, the only time I could truly breathe. But Luke always came and found me, even though he knew I wanted to be left alone.

  He climbed up and sat down next to me. “Colina, you might be able to sleep if you try. The council has given their word that you won’t be harmed.”

  “And after the trial?” I looked up at the half moon. I wondered if my friends were out there somewhere, looking up at the same moon.

  A hand covered mine. “When will you believe that my guild doesn’t mean you harm?”

  No matter what he said, I knew the guild would never forgive me. Thousands of people had been forced to flee their homes, hunted by violent fanatics. They wanted someone to pay, and I was the most likely target for their rage. I understood the need for vengeance enough to recognize it in others. It didn’t matter that I was almost as much a victim as they were, and that my only crime was fighting back.

  The only thing stopping them from stringing me up was the fact that the few elders left in camp were not very forceful personalities. Everyone between eighteen and sixty was out fighting a desperate battle to save as much of the guild as they could. Old men and women had been left behind, shaken to the core by the loss of everything they held dear. They were unwilling or unable to make a decision regarding my “crimes” and had asked the Phoenix Guild Council to send someone higher up to deal with me. When that person showed up, whoever they might be, everything would change.

  For now I was free to roam around the campsite, but even though I was free I still knew my every step and action were being watched. Only at night up here on the rock ledge could I breathe, think, relax.

  The world outside was in such disarray. I often wondered: if I had just rolled over and let Macaven kill me, would the death dealers be welcoming him and his followers into camp with open arms? I paused for a second, almost laughing out loud at the thought, but Caleb’s—no, Luke’s somber and a-bit-threatening bulk sitting so close to me smothered any thought of humor.

  My eyes met his. I couldn’t see his face clearly in the dark, but I knew it held a disapproving look. It was an expression he wore whenever we talked now.

  “Why won’t they let me leave?” I whispered.

  “Where would you go?” he asked.

  He had a good point. I was an outcast. I had nowhere else to go and no people to call my own anymore.

  Luke’s hand reached out and touched my cheek.

  I forced myself not to move away, but I felt the fear again, felt it tingle down my spine. He told me he would never hurt me, but I couldn’t make myself believe him. “I need to look for them,” I said quietly.

  He knew I was talking about my friends—Wendy, the most powerful reader I had ever seen who had become the unwilling host to a demon; Dean, the death dealer and berserker who, I could admit at least to myself, I had complex feelings for and who had declared his love for me; and even Mildred, the enigmatic and maybe crazy master mage who had both saved and betrayed me so many times that I’d lost track of whose side she was on.

  I missed them all, and the guilt of leaving them ate away at me. The last time I’d seen them had been back at Gage’s mining town. They’d stood and fought while I’d been carried away from the battle. I hadn’t been there to help my friends, and now their fates were unknown. Were they still alive? I refused to believe anything else. I had to find them.

  Luke’s grip tightened on my hand. “There are no sightings. No leads.”

  “I know.” I could feel tears filling my eyes. He knew I was upset—he could hear it in my voice. He moved closer.

  And there it was again—the panic that rose whenever he came near.

  His fingers reached up and touched my hair.

  I held my breath. The night was so still, so quiet; I could hear leaves rustling gently in th
e wind.

  He leaned in and kissed me.

  I tried to kiss him back. I tried to force away all the confusing thoughts, but as his lips touched mine, I couldn’t help but break away.

  “How long until you let me hold you?”

  I could hear the pain in his voice. I didn’t know what to say. How could I explain emotions that I had a hard time understanding myself?

  “Luke?” The word rang clearly through the night.

  “Your sister’s calling,” I said, trying to keep the relief I felt from showing in my voice.

  “She can wait,” he whispered.

  “You’ll only make her crazy. You know she worries anytime you’re out of her sight.”

  Luke sighed and moved away from me. “We’re going to talk about this.”

  “We will. I promise,” I said, but I knew it was a lie; I’d been avoiding the conversation for a month. I’d been avoiding him, too, but no matter how much I tried to steer clear of him, he always seemed to find me. Like tonight. Each night when I snuck out, he tracked me down. But this had been the first time he tried to kiss me.

  No, that wasn’t true. My fingers went to my lips. He’d kissed me the first day we made our way to the death dealer’s stronghold.

  That first night in camp, Luke took me into his arms, but when he leaned in to kiss me all I could see was Caleb’s face staring back at me. My mind had instantly flashed back to the old mining town. I could feel Caleb’s breath against my neck as he pinned me against a tree. I could feel Caleb’s hands burning with hellfire as he tortured me.

  I rubbed my jeans. The burn scars were still there. How could I explain to Luke everything that had happened to me while I’d been held prisoner by Gage? I wanted Luke to understand, but no matter how many times I tried, I couldn’t seem to get the words out. I couldn’t tell Luke what Caleb had done to me. I couldn’t tell him that whenever I looked into his eyes I felt fear and terror. Luke wore the face of the guy who tortured me. A guy I believed would have killed me if given the chance.