Shadowed by Demons, Book 3 of the Death Wizard Chronicles by Jim Melvin Page A

relieved that their attention was elsewhere.
    Just then, a deep-throated growl startled all three of them. Torg turned just in time to see a shape as large as a Buffelo thunder past on its way to the carcass. When it reached the ogress, it tore into its flesh with a hysterical rage. The others fled from its wrath. Torg’s first encounter with a ruined Daasa would not be his last.
    Leaving the carnage behind, the trio crept along for another half-mile before Rakkhati came to a halt.
    “May I have more, lord?” he whispered.
    “More?”
    Rakkhati tapped the tip of his nose.
    “Ahhh.”
    Torg blew another dose of the blue-green vapor into the Jivitan’s nostrils, calming him enough to continue. Finally they approached an alley that was narrower than most of the others, its opening as black as the surface of a lake on the night of a new moon. Torg was reminded of his visit to the Realm of the Undead.
    “Lord, I have never entered this place after dark,” Rakkhati whispered. “In the daytime, you can see a little of what lies ahead—and even then, dozens of armed men carrying torches accompanied me. A slave trader hired our group to retrieve a prized ring lost by one of his assistants who had been attacked by a ruined Daasa and dragged inside. I have never been so terrified in my life, and we never located the ring. But we found parts of the assistant’s body, strewn about here and there inside the alley.”
    “You are free to return from whence you came,” Torg said, “but neither Laylah nor I will be able to escort you.”
    “I will not forsake you, Lord,” Rakkhati said. “Nor you, my lady. The way is yet far and complicated. Without me as guide, you would be lost. I have been inside just once, but it is burned in my memory. I can recall every twist and turn as if it happened just a moment ago. I believe that Sakuna played some role in this. She came to me the night after I went inside and did something to my mind that enabled me to remember. I asked her how she knew to come, and she said only that it had been foretold.”
    Laylah held up Obhasa. “Do we dare to light our way?”
    “Without light, even I will become lost,” Rakkhati said.
    Torg agreed. “You cannot wander in darkness among creatures of darkness. Though Obhasa will announce our presence, I see no other option. Laylah, it is up to you.”
    LAYLAH WAS startled. In a repeat of their encounter with the vines, Torg again was asking her to play a crucial role in a dangerous situation. But this time, her use of the staff would have to be more subtle, and she wasn’t sure she had sufficiently mastered it.
    “I think you should take the staff,” Laylah said. “I can carry the sword.”
    “Obhasa has grown fond of you,” Torg said. “It will obey your commands, whatever they may be.”
    “As you say, beloved.”
    “One of you will have to go first,” Rakkhati said. “Only then will I have the courage to enter. Where we are going is not pleasant.”
    “We’ll stay close together,” Torg said. “I’ll go first, then you, then Laylah. Obhasa will light the way from behind.”
    “I’ll do my best,” Laylah said.
    Holding the sword in front of him, the wizard stepped into the darkness. Rakkhati shuffled behind. Laylah was the last to enter, and the sudden virulence took her aback, as if she had entered a crypt filled with decaying corpses. The air stank like rotting flesh, and the ground became squishy as a bog. She grasped Obhasa and willed it to life. For a moment it shined like a star, casting light far along the narrow alleyway and revealing walls covered with foul growths and wiggly worms.
    Rakkhati yelped. “It’s worse than before,” the Jivitan said. “ Much worse. And we have so far to go before we find the thing you seek. Lord, this cannot be done!”
    “Retreat is not an option,” Torg said. “Keep your wits about you. And Laylah, I said we need light, but not that much.”
    Laylah barely heard him. Like the Jivitan, she