Armageddon's Children - Terry Brooks [171]
Yet it was her nevertheless, Angel knew. It was the demon from the compound, come to finish her off.
“Diablo!” Angel muttered as she braced herself for the next attack.
The demon screamed suddenly, a bone-jarring, high-pitched sound that tore through the woods and froze Angel where she stood.
Then the monster rushed her, so swift it was on top of her almost before she could respond. But respond she did, sending the white fire of the staff surging into her attacker in a rippling, jagged-edged strike that burned the other’s scaly hide despite its obvious toughness, knocking the demon backward and aside. It screamed again, as if the sound gave it special strength, and renewed its assault. Again it charged Angel and again she used the fire to throw it back.
It’s too strong, she thought as she watched it bound up anew, its hide smoking, but its madness undiminished. I can’t win this.
This time the demon got through her defenses far enough to backhand her so hard that she flew off her feet and halfway across the clearing. Her ears were ringing as she scrambled up, her head swimming with the blow. She fought off another attack, and then another.
“Ailie!” she shouted.
She didn’t expect help from the tatterdemalion, but she needed to know where Ailie was. She was already eyeing the ATV, thinking that her only chance was to get away, to put enough distance between herself and the demon that it couldn’t get at her. It felt like a coward’s choice, not the right choice for a Knight of the Word, but it might keep her alive to fight another day.
She caught a glimpse of Ailie as the other peeked out from behind the Mercury. The tatterdemalion was thinking the same thing, but there was little she could do to help make it happen. Tatterdemalions were Faerie creatures, lacking sufficient substance to engage in physical combat. They were mostly air and light. She might reason and counsel, but she was not going to do much to fight off a demon.
Which right now was back on top of Angel, slamming her backward, striking at her as though the staff’s terrible fire were thin paper. It was as if the pain was making it stronger, giving it fresh energy, while Angel’s strength continued to diminish. Angel blocked the follow-up attack, sidestepping the other’s shredding claws, trying not to look into the terrible yellow eyes. There was a hypnotic quality to the demon’s gaze, the kind that predatory creatures used to freeze their prey in place while they ripped out their throats. Look too closely into that gaze and there was no escape. Angel concentrated on the elongated arms with their razor-sharp claws, still reaching for her, slashing.
She was aware that she was wounded anew, fresh blood running down one shoulder and arm. Somehow the demon had gotten through her defenses. It would continue to find ways to do so, she realized. It would continue until she collapsed.
Until it was over.
She took a chance. She attacked. Mustering all the strength she could, she launched a fiery strike at the sleek form, hammering into it with everything she had, sending it flying backward into the trees. Even as it was tumbling out of view, she was racing to gain the Mercury. She leapt astride and slammed down the ignition button. The engine caught and roared to life.
Already the demon was bounding out of the trees, coming for her anew, shrieking in fury.
“Ailie!” she cried, and felt the tatterdemalion’s arms come around her waist.
She turned the black staff on the demon