Page 58 of Winter Goddess

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“Just up ahead.”

A moment later, a scream confirms her words. Flora.

We run towards the pained wails that echo through the stone corridor. Suddenly, a demon steps in our way. He’s fat, there’s no other word for it. His belly is bulging over a leather belt from which hang… are those shrunken… ehm… cocks? I avert my eyes and focus on the rest of him instead. He’s bald, but there’s a shimmering green rash all over his grey skin. Weeping sores cover his face and one of his eyes is missing. This might be the ugliest demon I’ve ever seen.

"The Mistress promised me some playtime," he growls in a raspy, disgustingly sultry voice. "So good of you to come."

"Who are you?" Dewi asks, her magic flaring around her arms, ready to be unleashed.

"My name is Cristian and I'm the Morrigan's personal representative in this Realm."

I snicker loudly. "Not for much longer."

He turns his eyes on me... ehm, his eye. It's bloodshot and surrounded by tiny warts. Yucky. It's almost a pity that demons don't have an aura to hide their faces. For once, I'd quite like to not see someone's expression.

"Who wants to be first?" he asks and suddenly, a large spiked mace appears in his hand. There's dried blood on the spikes, presumably a souvenir from his last victim.

"How about you?" I ask and shove some icicles towards him. They never reach him though, breaking into a million tiny shards a foot in front of him. There's a barrier I didn't notice. How did I not realise? I concentrate but I still can't feel anything in the air between us. Strange, does that mean I can't recognise demon magic? That's a scary thought.

At least I can sense them… well, not this one. He seems to be more powerful than the demons we’ve encountered in this castle before. I hope he’s the only one of his kind.

I conjure some more icicles and fire them at him from behind, but again, there’s an invisible barrier that stops them. He laughs at my efforts. This is becoming tedious. If ice won’t work, then I’ll show him that I have other magic at my disposal.

I create a giant fireball and throw it at him from above, while at the same time funnelling a small tornado all around him to dispel the barrier. His grin disappears and makes way to a concentrated frown. His barrier is finally giving way and the first sparks of my fireball reach him. He screams as flames lick at his skin. Some of the sores on his face burst as they get in contact with the fire and his wails increase. He’s looking even more disgusting now, with burns and weird slime covering his skin. Let’s end this quickly so I don’t have to look at him anymore.

I fan the flames with my magic and throw an icicle at his heart for good measure. This time, it reaches its target and with a squelching sound, embeds itself in the demon’s chest. He stares at me in surprise, then crumples to the floor, dead.

“What a weirdo,” Dewi mutters and steps over the corpse, her aura full of disgust. A cry from the end of the corridor makes us run again. Flora sounds like she’s in agony. The stupid demon distracted us for too long.

We reach a thick wooden door. It’s locked, but Storm blasts it open with his wind magic until it splinters and bangs open. I’m the first to step into the room and have to stop the bile from rising in my throat. We’re inside a torture chamber.

Strange instruments litter the walls and shelves, iron chains hang from the ceiling and very painful looking contraptions are standing all around. I recognise an Iron Maiden in the corner, even though I know that they were never actually used on Earth, they were a Victorian invention for curiosity cabinets. I push that useless fact from my mind. This really isn’t the time.

A large metal table is in the centre of the room and on it, Flora, her arms and legs shackles so she’s in a spread eagle position. She’s naked, too, and I can’t even imagine the humiliation she must be experiencing. She’s a Goddess, and here she is, completely exposed and at someone else’s mercy.

Her face is covered in bruises and sweat, and there are bloody lash marks all over her body. She’s suffered. All I want is to free her and take her into my arms, healing her wounds, but there’s one tiny problem to deal with first. The person who did this to her. No, not a person. A monster.

“Oh look, we have guests.”

The Morrigan materialises in front of the torture table, dressed in a long black gown and wearing a silver crown. Look at that, she fancies herself a Queen already. Not if I can help it.

“This ends now,” I growl and create a barrier all around us. I know Dewi could probably create her own, but I’m the most powerful one of all of us.

“Oh yes, it certainly will.” She laughs. “I’ve waited for you to come and try and free your friend. Isn’t she pretty? I’ve had a lot of fun with her.”

Rage overwhelms all rational thought and I throw all the magic I have at her. Fire, wind, ice, water, even a mental attack. Most of it crashes against a barrier she’s created, but one of my weapons reaches her.

She gasps in pain and looks down at herself. Her gaze wanders to me, her eyes widened in shock, then she keels over, the icicle embedded in her heart. Red blood is flowing from the wound, drenching her dress. I want to cheer and celebrate, but something is wrong. This was too easy. Far too easy. If it was this simple to kill the Morrigan, someone would have already done it.

“Stay on your guard,” I whisper to the others and use my magic to feel around the room. “This isn’t over yet.”

Crispin bends down beside the Morrigan’s body and runs his hands over it, his healing magic springing into action.

“She’s dead,” he confirms, but then his aura turns the turquoise colour of surprise. “She’s… No, this can’t be. She’s a Guardian. The Morrigan isn’t a Goddess.”

Suddenly, everything makes sense. Why she was so easy to kill. How she was able to speak to Angus and be in Flora’s dungeon at the same time.

“That’s because this isn’t the real Morrigan,” I say slowly. “This was a clone, like the Crispin imposters.”