Leaping behind another pew, Jak placed his holy symbol in his belt pouch and jerked another dagger free of its sheath. Pumped full of adrenaline, and focused only on the demon, he suddenly felt no fear. The realization changed him. He had been frightened only moments before and he remembered being utterly terrified back at the Soargyls the last time he had faced one of these creatures.
I'm getting more like Gale every daAbruptly, the demon's hissing ceased and gave way to a series of softly muttered words. Jak didn't recognize the language, but he recognized the intonation and cadence of spellcasting.
By the gods, spells?
He peeked over the pew.
The opalescent glow had vanished from the demon's eyes. The creature had dispelled Jak's cantrip, and now it could see him. Its milky white eyes instantly discovered him.
It stalked forward, wings beating.
"Dark," Jak oathed.
He rose from behind the pew, dagger and short sword ready. The demon's hunger hit him tike a bitter wind, but he vowed not to give in to fear, vowed to give this demonic bastard the fight of its life. The last time he had faced one of these creatures, he'd frozen up, humiliated himself by wetting his pants.
"Not this time," he promised himself.
"Come on," he said through fritted teeth, and beckoned it forward with his bWe*At that moment, a victorious roar from the front of the shrine jerked his head around. He watched as Yrsillar swiped a daw through Gale's midsection, followed by a crushing blow to the chest that sent his Mend flailing through toe air to crash among the front rowsofpews^
"Caler
The shadow demon took advantage of Jak's lapse and leaped forward, quick as an adder to strike the little man.
Though the strength behind the daw nearly knocked the blade from His fist, Jak managed a parry with his dagger, A second claw rake followed. Jak leaped backward out of range then immediately lunged forward with his short sword. He was too slow. The demon backed off in a crouch and hissed, its claws weaving hypnotically through the air.
Jak saw his death in those daws. The demon was too fast, and when it hit him, his protective aura would flare out"Burn me," he said, an idea dawning.
The demon's touch would probably dispel the aura, but in the process its energy would hurt the creature, the original intent behind Jak's spell.
The beginnings of a plan took shape in his mind, a desperate gambit He would probably die, but if he did, he hoped to take the demon with
Gale righted himself and scrambled to all fours, expecting Yrsillar to thunder toward him at any moment. His lungs ached and his head throbbed. Dazed, he crawled for his sword. When he dosed his fist over the hilt, he saw the white vapor of his soul bleeding from the skin on his hand. It billowed bade toward the altar, back toward Yrsillar. Already he was beginning to feel the effect it had on him. He was growing weaker by the instant. In minutes he would be dead. He lifted his increasingly heavy head and looked out over t?e pew.
Surprisingly, Yrsillar remained on the dais. The voids of his eyes focused on Gale and he began to laugh. Gale quailed before that terrible_ sound and ducked back behind the pew, breathing hard.
"I can taste your despair, Erevis Gale," Yrsillar said. "Only now, at tine very last, do you realize your felly."
Summoning his courage, Gale again looked over the top of the pew. Yrsillar made no move to come finish the fight. Instead, he seemed content to let Gale die slowly. With the protective aura dispelled, the gray vapor of Gale's soul flowed into Yrsillar.
While he watched, the great demon sucked in the streams of Ms life-force. The demon's great body shuddered in ecstasy with each mouthful. Gale wanted to vomit. He was watching his soul be devoured piecemeal.
Yrsillar laughed as he feasted. Tfour weakness is apparent to you now, is it not, Erevis Gale?" He gobbled in still more. "So fares the so-called Champion of Mask. So fare any who rely on gods for salvation."
Or course, Gale had not relied on Mask for salvation, had not relied on Mask for anything. He did now. Prayer came hard to him, but he quelled his pride and did it.
Lend me strength, Shadowlord, he thought. If I'm to be your Champion, lend me strength.
His body suddenly grew less sluggish. Shielded from Yrsillar by the pews and invigorated by the prayer, he crawled along the row until he reached the center aisle.
"I will not give up" he vowed, the words hollow in the face of his weakness. "I will not!"
Yrsillar's laughter mocked his resolve. The demon lord continued to devour his soul, piece by piece.
Gale knew he had to retrieve Jak and get the Nine Hells out of here. The little man had been right all along-they should not have fought Yrsillar on his home plane. They needed to get back to their own plane fast or they would both die here.
I let my anger and pride blind me. He should have heeded Thamalon's advice-unbridled aggression had been his enemy. His fear of losing himself had been his enemy. -"
The sudden understanding brought him to reach into his pocket and pull out the felt mask. Its touch brought him comfort. He realized now that espousing a faith did not mean surrendering himself; it meant the possibility of bettering himself. In a flash of inspiration, he realized that his lifelong derision of religion had its true origin not in his fear of losing himself but in his own self-hatred. He had pretended to despise religion because he had deemed himself unworthy of it. But his own standards had been too high, Mask had called him, and Mask knew Gale's flaws.
He thought of Jak and Ansril Ammhaddan, both of them priests, and both of them flawed men, but both good men, too. For the first time in his life, Gale realized that the one did not exclude the other-he could be both flawed and good. With that, he took the final step toward faith.
I accept, godsdammit, he thought to Mask. He only wished he had done so sooner. He had become Mask's Champion only to die at Yrsillar's hands. The irony almost drew a smile.
Still, he'd be damned if he'd die without a fight. He jumped to his feet.
Yrsillar's laughter immediately ceased. "You are going nowhere!"
Gale didn't dare turn around. He ran back toward the double doors as fast as his weakened legs would carry him.
From the corner of his eye, Jak saw Gale sprinting toward him. His protective spell was gone! He trailed the mist of his soul behind him like smoke from a flickering candle.
With Jak momentarily distracted, the shadow demon raised a claw.
Jak staggered backward out of reach. Gale shouted to b?Ti as he closed.
"I'm coming, little man!"‹
The shadow demon turned its head toward Gale.
Seeing his opportunity, Jak charged, arms wide in an embrace. Too late, the demon tried to bound backward. Jak crashed into it and wrapped hisJWtefi^s around its leathery midsection in a great hug. Brilliant golden light flared blindingly bright. As the protective aura dissipated, its energy "Epicxle*iat0 the shadow demon. The stink of charred demon flesh filled Jak's nostrils. The creature screamed, spasmed, and tried to pull away, but Jak held on. Absently, he noted the feel of the creature's skin, cold and flabby, like a wineskin filled with ke water. A claw tore painfully across his back. He screamed but held on. Another daw gripped him around the head, lifted him into the air, and flung him away like a rag doll.
He grunted, hitting the ground awkwardly. Jak looked up to see the demon standing over him, its abdomen and torso horribly burned and smoking.
Gale appeared behind it, long sword overhead. He chopped across and neatly swiped the demon's head off Milky-white eyes widened with surprise, and the shadow demon soundlessly collapsed. Thick purple liquid trickled from its neck.
"Gale!"
"Little man." Gale extended a hand and helped him to his feet "We're leaving."
"Good," Jak said. When he gripped Gale's forearm, he saw their souls bleeding from both of them. Hie gray mist rose from their skin and floated back toward the altar where Yrsillar still stood, eating. Jak felt weakened already, but whether from the drain or the bleeding wound in his back, he couldn't tell.