I saw a lost soul clamber over the edge of the roof, coming for me, and I kicked it loose, letting it fall.
The others were ascending the stairs. The high priest was barely moving, head bowed, horn in hand.
Vines, I observed, were tying things together. Sections of building were being brought together as the vines tightened their hold.
The Library groaned, as if resettling, and some vines split.
Resisting our influence.
But vines made it possible to cross certain areas. People were hurt, they’d been clawed apart, scratched, battered. They’d fallen.
We had most of our number. I couldn’t see one of the four Behaims that had come down here with us. One was named Alister, one had been lost on the bridge, back when this started, and one, apparently, had been lost in this chaos just now.
I couldn’t see Alexis. I had to look over the group twice to see.
I had so very little blood, only in my face, and my face was damaged, with thin branches crawling across the skin there. All the same, I felt the blood run cold, practically draining out of me.
The realization that Alexis was gone was paralyzing. It froze my head in place, leaving me unable to look at Tiff and Ty, because I might see their expressions.
In my stunned state, I didn’t even see it. Not in time, at any rate.
The group was busy crossing the cracked, desolate top floor of the pillar, making their way toward the bridge back home, which was being restored with vines, and they were watching their flanks.
An object flew through darkness, spinning end over end. Shears.
The demon emerged from them, soundlessly, without flash, impact or fanfare. It came with its stink, and a sense of foreboding. I joined many of the others in wondering just where it was coming from, in going tense, being ready for a fight.
Until I saw the hand, reaching skyward, from the midst of the group, toward the rear.
“Scatter!” I bellowed.
The demon didn’t flourish. He merely brought the shears down, toward the high-priest’s back.
Alister saw, and Alister threw his left arm back, over the priest’s bent head, and put it out, sticking it into the path of the shears. His right arm pulled the priest forward.
The shears crunched through bone and muscle with virtually no difficulty.
There was no blood, for blood loss could kill, and the Barber wasn’t about killing. He was about ruin.
He stabbed a Knight in the back, the shears closed, and then hauled them open, opening the wound wide.
I ran forward, pushing past the other members of the group that were fleeing, running.
I managed to put myself between the others and the Barber.
He moved the shears, and I moved the Hyena, trying, failing, to position it where I might be able to keep those blades from scissoring closed.
I saw his arm move. Stabbing.
“Stop!” Rose ordered.
The Barber hesitated. I couldn’t block the shears, but I could strike at them with the Hyena. The impact and the way it sent me moving to the right was more what saved me than any deflection. Barbatorem was far stronger than I.
“My name is Rose Thorburn! I am of the Thorburn Bloodline, I am of the line that named you Barbatorem! You have been bound by my blood!”
Barbatorem hesitated once more.
Rose’s voice brought a ringing with it.
“Go,” Ty said.
The survivors were spreading out, forming a circle. Guarding Rose.
“I bind you, Barbatorem! As the Thorburn heir and diabolist, I order you to yield!”
Barbatorem backed away a step.
Rose was clearly tapping into Conquest. The confidence with which she spoke. The fact that she wasn’t cringing at the foulness that the Barber exuded, but instead advancing?
“By the seals to which you are bound, I order you away! Back!”
The Barber backed away once more.
There was shouting at the fringes as the Knights met with the first wave of Others that Rose’s words had called.
“Back!” Rose said.
Tiff had bent down to Alister’s side, and was helping to support him. His face contorted in pain, but he managed to crawl forward.
The Barber lunged, and I met the shears with the Hyena, twisted them over to one side. It felt like I was meeting a truck head-on, but it stalled him, kept him from gaining momentum. I dropped to one knee, precariously close to a gap, and fought to regain my footing.
“Away with you!” Rose cried out, her words ringing in the air. She gestured violently at the air.
The Barber backed away a step, in the same direction as the gesture.
I looked past him.
Alister’s diagram, shattered, spread out over several sections of pillar.
But the vines the high priest had called out were wrapping around.
Drawing the individual pieces closer.
The Knights, Ty, and the remaining Behaim were doing what they could to fight the Others. Too tired, too hurt, it was looking ugly.
As if to punish me for looking away, the Barber made a move. I only barely managed to keep the shears from taking a piece of my head.
“I compel you to be bound!” Rose cried out. “Remain here in the Abyss!”
I matched her words with a strike, a lunge. Battering the shears.
The Barber backed away, stepping into the still-broken circle.
The vines hauled the individual pieces of building together. One last pull.
“…the temple,” I heard the High Priest murmur, the end of a prayer. “From my demesnes to here. Let your actions here be a memory that speaks of your deeds…”
The cracks began to mend. Undoing the damage to the pillar.
“I compel you!” Rose cried out, but the words faltered.
There was a gap. Gaps. The circle didn’t mesh perfectly. The priest’s prayer was fixing the building, but it didn’t fix the circle.
I dared to glance toward the center of the roof. Sure enough, the damage toward the center wasn’t mending.
“I bind you to where you stand!” Rose said, doubt pushed aside.
But Barbatorem took a step forward.
“Back!’
Barbatorem advanced.
“Thought so,” Rose said. “Only have so much clout. Had to use it well.”
“Good try,” I said, my heart heavy. “Damn it all. We set our sights too high.”
She smiled sadly.
“Why?” came a voice to the side. Ty’s. “The circle-”
I spoke, “The actions of a demon are permanent. What they destroy is irrevocably destroyed.”
Barbatorem walked over the lines of the now-useless diagram. I was the one backing away now, fighting to find secure places to step without letting my guard down.
Tch. Tch. Tk.
“I’d hoped for more,” Johannes spoke, with a strange cadence to his voice. “What a shame. I thought I might have to force it, but I think I can leave this up to you.”
Heads turned.
“Damnation,” Johannes said. “Damnation.”
“Have you lost it?” I asked.
“Probably. I suppose this is where I say farewell.”
“Farewell?” Rose asked.
“This is all partially my fault, really. I suppose I should bear the brunt of it.”
“What are you doing?” I asked, looking over my shoulder.
Backing away, Johannes raised his head. But he didn’t look at me.
I could see something move in his eyes.
My head whipped around.
The Barber was gone.
“Do me a favor, if you please,” Johannes said, staring skyward. His eyes weren’t his anymore. He staggered blindly. “Tell that angel to go fuck himself.”