Scala Read Online Free PDF Page A

right now. This is the least I can do. Cissy feels the same way.”
    A great roar echoes through the darkened factory, breaking the moment. The cry is so deep and powerful, bits of dingy wall-glass tumble from their rusted window-frames.
    Hellooooo, Durus demon.
    Battle energy careens through my muscles. “You’re right. Let’s go take down this Durus.”
    I snap into fighting-mode, my mind zooming through different approaches and scenarios. “How about we start with long-swords, and then finish with a net?”
    â€œExcellent.”
    We take out our baculum, igniting the silver rods as long-swords made of angelfire. Once the flames begins to crackle, the threads of my Scala robes instantly realign into white battle armor. I have to admit, dynamic robe re-alignment is one of the cooler benefits of being the Great Scala.
    Before us, garbage heaps scrape across the floor, combining into a larger shape.
    â€œGuess someone’s decided to come to us,” says Lincoln.
    â€œSo thoughtful for a demon.”
    On the ground nearby, the trash-pile shifts at a faster rate: melting, reforming, rising. The sour smell of burned rubber and engine grease fills the air. Within seconds, the metal refuse resolidifies as a massive man that’s eight feet tall and almost as broad.
    The Durus is here.
    The demon’s arms are a mash-up of jackhammers and belt riveters. It stands on legs made of massive steel beams; strange smokes and acids spew from its torso of engine parts. The head’s the nastiest bit of all, a crazy mix of punch-needles and round-saws with crushed-glass eyes and a huge, gaping mouth full of moving-piston teeth.
    My breath catches. I have to admit, this thing is way cool.
    The Durus speaks in a deep and rusty voice. “Leave my lair.”
    Lincoln moves into battle stance: feet wide apart, his long-sword raised high. “That’s not going to happen, buddy.”
    With lightning speed, the demon raises its arm to strike Lincoln. I get ready to leap into a counter-attack. However, the demon does something unexpected. Itstops, actually freezing in place for a few seconds. After that, its crushed-glass eyes begin to glow with demonic fire.
    Lincoln and I share a confused look. That’s strange. Durus demons are one of the few breeds whose eyes don’t light up.
    The Durus rounds on me. “Show me how you move souls, Great Scala.” With clunky movements, he rips a length of conveyor belt off the floor and chucks it at me; I easily leap out of the way. The broken machinery lands on the floor with a room-shaking crash. The Durus takes a lumbering step closer. “Fight me like you fought Armageddon.”
    I frown, considering. Two months ago, I blasted Armageddon and his ghoul cronies out of Purgatory. It took a bit to figure out my brand-spanking-new igni power, but eventually, I trapped the King of Hell in a Soul Column. I can still picture him howling with bone-crunching rage as he plummeted under the earth, to be forever locked into Hell. Fun times.
    Beside me, Lincoln speaks in a low voice. “Your call, Myla. If you send him back to Hell, he’ll be locked down there forever, but he’ll still be alive.”
    â€œThat’s true.” However, I can’t move any souls right now, so I’ve been itching to use my igni. “But I could use the practice with my powers.” I turn to the demon. “You’ve got yourself a deal.”
    I raise my arms high above my head. Closing my eyes, I reach out with my thoughts to the dark igni, the tiny bolts of power and light that transport evil souls to Hell. Come to me, my little ones. Instantly, their grating voices fill my mind, a cacophony of rasps and whispers that only I can hear.
    Opening my eyes, I watch the tiny white lightning bolts materialize before my outstretched palms. More come into existence, soaring and diving about my hands like tiny silver fish. Soon, hundreds have arrived,