The Enemy Within Read Online Free Page A

declaimed words of power and flourished the gory knife in mystic
passes.
    The glyphs he’d written sizzled and steamed, eating their way
deeper into the boy’s face and even into the brick wall. Faint but ominous
sounds, suggestive of a reptilian hissing, whispered from the empty air.
    Then, abruptly, the creature appeared, its brightness driving
back the dark and making the warlock squint. He watched for any indication that
it meant to attack, for such defiance was always a possibility, no matter how
able the summoner.
    Happily, the entity wasn’t inclined to resist. Rather,
writhing this way and that, its body throwing off heat, it simply awaited his
commands.
     
    Dieter clenched his fist, and Jarla pried at it, trying to
get hold of one of his fingers to bend and snap. He had the feeling she was
reluctant, and wasn’t yet exerting her full strength. But if he continued to
resist, she would. It was only a matter of time.
    Curse it all, he was a wizard, in theory, the possessor of
extraordinary powers. Surely his magic could extricate him from this nightmare?
But how, when the ruffian with the knife would no doubt slash his throat as soon
as he tried to recite a spell?
    “I told you to hurt him,” the male cultist growled.
    “I’m trying,” Jarla replied.
    “Idiot! How difficult is it? If you can’t grab a finger,
gouge an eye.”
    “Please,” Dieter said, “you’re making a mistake. I’m not your
enemy. I—” Something luminous and yellow streaked through the darkness above
their heads, and he faltered in fear and astonishment.
    The long, sinuous creature appeared to be a flying serpent
either shrouded in flame or composed of that element entirely. Plainly, it was
some minor spirit of Chaos, although Dieter didn’t understand why it had come.
Jarla and her fellow cultist hadn’t alluded to summoning it, nor did they need
its help to control or kill their captive.
    But whatever the reason, its arrival extinguished whatever
feeble hope he had left, and he wondered if he should deliberately provoke the
man with the knife into cutting his throat. It might well be a less excruciating
death than the one the fiery serpent would give him.
    Then, however, Jarla somehow sensed the creature wheeling
above their heads. Perhaps she caught the all-but-inaudible hiss of its corona
of flame. She glanced up, then screamed and lurched off balance.
    Her outcry startled the other cultist, and his head snapped
around. He looked where she was looking, and then, as the snake turned for
another pass—to all appearances, studying the mortals on the ground—his eyes
opened wide, and his face turned white. As though steadying himself, he
swallowed, sucked in a ragged breath, then jumped to his feet. He apparently
didn’t care about immobilising Dieter anymore. He wanted to be ready to dodge,
run or fight if the serpent dived at him.
    So, obviously, he and Jarla were just as afraid of the entity
as Dieter was, even if that didn’t make any sense either. The pair worshipped
Chaos, and the unearthly reptile was a manifestation of that universe of blight
and madness. Judging from its form, it might even serve their particular deity.
    “What does it want?” Jarla whimpered, rising.
    “Shut up!” Adolph said. “Don’t talk, don’t move, and maybe it
will go away.”
    It didn’t. Instead, as lightning danced in the clouds behind
it, it opened its jaws and dived at Jarla.
    She screamed and threw herself to the side. Fearful that the
serpent’s blazing mass was about to slam down on top of him, Dieter rolled.
    Fierce heat swept over him and receded just as quickly. He
looked up and saw that the snake, after missing its initial strike, had pulled
out of its dive and was spiralling skyward once more. Its lack of wings
notwithstanding, it flew with an agility no terrestrial creature could match.
    The cultists bolted from the forsaken little garden.
Proceeding more warily, Dieter rose and peeked out into