Capricorn's Midnight Clock: The Zodiac Book 10, page 1
CAPRICORN'S MIDNIGHT CLOCK
THE ZODIAC BOOK 10
PAUL SATING
CONTENTS
Get Thee Free Books!
1. Underworld, Isle of Dread
2. Underworld, Isle of Dread
3. Underworld, Isle of Dread
4. Underworld, Lucifer's Tower
5. Underworld, Isle of Dread
6. Underworld-Upperworld
7. Underworld, Lucifer's Tower
8. Underworld, Lucifer's Tower
9. Underworld, Lucifer's Tower
10. Underworld, Lucifer's Tower
11. Underworld, Isle of Dread
12. Underworld, Isle of Dread
13. Underworld, Third Circle
14. Underworld, Third Circle
15. Underworld, Isle of Dread
16. Underworld, Isle of Dread
17. Underworld, Fourth Circle
18. Underworld, Fourth Circle
19. Overworld, St. Louis
20. Underworld, Lucifer's Tower
21. Underworld, Ninth Circle
22. Underworld, Ninth Circle
23. Underworld, Lucifer's Tower
24. Underworld, Lucifer's Tower
25. Overworld, The Jordan Valley
26. Underworld, Lucifer's Tower
27. Underworld, Isle of Dread
28. Overworld, Syria
29. Overworld, Syria
30. Overworld, Syria
31. Overworld, Syria
32. Underworld, Isle of Dread
The Zodiac Book 11
Also By Paul Sating
Get More Exclusive Stories!
About the Author
Contact Paul
The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious. Any situations or similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author.
Copyright © 2025 Paul Sating.
All rights reserved.
No parts of this book may be reproduced, or stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without express written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.
Cover Design: Jake at jcalebdesign.com
ISBN-13: 979-8-9900944-5-1
GET THEE FREE BOOKS!
To Stephanie Ricci Mikkelsen. Miso has nothing on your epicness!
1
UNDERWORLD, ISLE OF DREAD
I ducked.
The fireball missed my head. By inches. I know. I felt strands wiggle. So close that I heard the sizzle and felt its heat on my skin. My nostrils were filled with the acrid stench.
I rolled to my left, coming up just in time to deflect a blast of ice with my spinning halberd shield. Icy shards pierced the sand in wide concentric circles around me.
"Not cool!" I shouted toward the boulder. Not the boulder's fault. That fell squarely on the magic user who'd cast from behind it.
Creed vibrated in agreement in my hands.
Another ice attack came as I pushed forward. It hit the shield and spread sideways. The ice cracked as it raced over sand and rocks alike. The smaller rocks froze instantly, shattering a second later.
"You're too slow, Segregate!" The voice dripped with a kind of fake derision that made me want to punch its owner in their smug face. "My grandmother moves faster than that, and she's had arthritis for the past twenty-five thousand years."
A shimmer in the air caught my attention. The stickiness coating my hands gave away that this attack was grounded in Deception magic.
For the second time in the last few seconds, I spun, bringing Creed's double-ax head around in a defensive arc. High Sun was a form I'd practiced tens of thousands of times. A natural reaction. Good thing, too. Once again, my reaction time and familiarity with the move saved my skin.
The attacks were coming thick and fast. Had been. I was breathing heavily, perspiring enough to smell myself, and wondering how much longer I could last.
Beelzebub materialized behind me, just out of Creed's reach.
I guffawed at the sight. "Are you serious?"
As if this fight weren't monotonous enough. As if I wasn't already constantly scrambling to save myself by firing off cautious Hellfire attacks and making Creed's shield work overtime.
In reality, the Prince of Demons was a behemoth. The biggest demon on the block type of stuff. This version of the Founder was anything but. Standing no higher than three feet, this was more of a caricature than an impressive imitation. The little shit shook his tiny fist at me defiantly. When it spoke, its microscopic voice sounded like a squeaky rusty hinge. "Prepare to meet your doom, Ezekial Sunstone!"
I snorted. This was serious, of course. Everything in my life was at this point. But seeing such a tiny version of Beelzebub and hearing that voice was just too much.
"You've obviously never seen Beelzebub," I said as I stood to my full height, Sensing for the magical type of any incoming attacks.
"Cut me some slack," came the response from atop the cliff. "Not up close. Plus, I'm working off memory of gramp's stories here."
The Beelzebub allusion flickered, dissolving before my eyes.
From my right, three demons moved in, led by a tall, dark, and handsome incubus. Though as he sneered, he exposed the gap in his smile. A missing tooth. The cost of being a close friend of the heir apparent to Lucifer's title. His sword's blade was four feet tall, and it was ablaze.
All three foes carried fiery weapons and spread out to attack.
I had a second to offer advice before they made their move. "Next time you conjure Beelzebub, try to make him not sound like he'd just been on a four-day binge of helium. At least then I could take him more seriously."
I ducked under Ralrek's massive flaming blade. A swordsman he was not. My evasive maneuver put me to his back.
"Your weights all wrong," I said as I swung Creed, connecting with the back of Ralrek's knee. Creed's petrified cherry haft on his skin gave off a sharp smacking sound.
Ralrek spun as his two cohorts made their moves. He growled and lunged. I split the alley between him and Ursulah. "Focus, Zeke."
"You guys aren't making this easy. Did you see that thing?"
Instead of answering, Ralrek shrunk the size of his flaming blade. Not one to give up, I knew something else was coming. When flames crackled in my friend's open palm, I was proven correct. Now equipped with a sword and a fireball, he presented a double threat.
I deflected Ursulah's strike, keeping my weight on the balls of my feet. Ralrek threw the fireball while simultaneously striding forward and raising his blade. The fireball attack made me jump to my left. Right into the path of Marijon.
She thrust both hands forward, shooting a beam of water that could have knocked me halfway back up the beach. I dug Creed's dagger blade into the sand, using it to vault over the beam. It struck Ralrek's fireball. The air sizzled, and the resulting cloud of white smoke obscured my vision.
I was puffing. Not surprising considering we'd been at this for the better part of two hours. I don't know many demons who'd last this long, getting their ass handed to them in a friendly training session by a gang of loving thugs. Though, to be honest, calling it friendly was generous. At times, it felt like the entire Isle of Dread was involved in attempting to send me scurrying under the closest rock I could find.
Marijon appeared from the smoke, her hands encased in ice that expanded at an exponential rate.
I pivoted, feeling the Hellfire burn inside me. With a single thought, interrupted along Creed's blades just as she released her next ice attack. The Hellfire met ice, driving it back in a torrent of moisture. Marijon stumbled backward. The rags she wore clung to her shapely form.
She snapped both arms down and looked at me with a huff. "Seriously, Zeke? Now I have to change."
In the past weeks, Marijon had done more than her fair share to earn the right to use my nickname. The fact she'd done just that wasn't nearly as distracting as her succubus features. Though she was a friend and definitely not at Cassie's level, I still couldn't help but find her attractive. What can I say? I'm only in incubus. Far from perfect.
Through the haze, Cantrell's voice came from the sidelines. "Don't be lazy, Ezekial. Keep your guard up."
"You're telegraphing your moves," another succubus said. This voice was far more familiar. Her critique meant more, mostly because she was the last succubus in the Underworld I wanted to disappoint. "You look like you're directing a squad of harpies."
"Thank you for the attention to detail," I said somewhat sarcastically to the pair who were doing their best imitations of my school blazeball coach. All they needed was a whistle and a clipboard to make the imitation complete.
I focused on grabbing a slice of Hellfire. I wasn't its master, not by any means, but it was something I could direct far more effectively than even days ago. In fact, I couldn't remember the last time I'd called for my power and not had the essence of demonic magic respond.
I felt invigorated as it flowed through me, like an icy drink on a miserably hot day. The power felt different now. More controlled. More precise. The threat of its surging out of control lingered. Maybe I was too cautious. Maybe I lacked the confidence. I wouldn't admit that to anyone but Lucifer, and He wasn't here. Still, my control was effective enough to direct the magic, effective enough that I hadn't been laid out by an attack. Yet. Not exactly directing an orchestra. More like giving suggestions to a terrible garage band.
Roy Bailisk, the representative of the Planters tribe, charged me from the left. A big demon who wouldn't be stopped if we collided, he moved well despite his size. The grimace on his face made it look like I'd insulted his garden. The massive warhammer in his hands looked like an impling's toy. He swung, and I raised Creed horizontally. Wood smacked wood. The impact jarred my arms all the way to the shoulders. My hands vibrated as if I'd just touched an electric fence. I thrust up, shoving Creed's haft directly under the hammer. Every day of the week plus holidays, Roy was stronger than me, but I could run laps around him. 'Speed can't be taught,' my blazeball coach would say. An advantage to leverage before he used his impressive power.
"Damn, Roy," I grunted, trying to hold Creed until I could figure out my next move.
This close, the big man smelled like an onion sack. "Nothing personal. Got to make sure you're ready for the real thing."
In my periphery, a line of Bilbas appeared.
I allowed my head to drop for a second. "Shit."
"We're only doing this because we love you," Roy said right before kicking out. His foot caught me in the chest, knocking the air from my lungs and sending me flipping head over heels.
Each of the twenty Bilba figures conjured, their hands moving as if they were kneading dough.
This wasn't the "real thing" Roy was talking about, but it was a problem. Overwhelming force against a single target. Great combined power against a single source. We'd had training sessions like these every day since Lucifer informed me of the requirement to take the title of ruler of the Underworld from Him. In order to become the next Lucifer, I had to kill the current one. In combat. Forget fancy ceremonies that required uncomfortable suits and ties. Nothing glamorous where thousands of adoring demons would watch me have an ornate crown placed on my head covered in barely combed hair. No, we were required by the All to throw fists. In order for the transition of power to be legitimate, one of us would bleed until there is no more blood to give. Lucifer had firmly set one expectation. He couldn't throw the fight. When the time came, He would give His all. If I were to survive, I'd need to as well. No holding back.
Hell is full of fun times, for sure.
From the hands of the Bilba figures, green vines spotted with jagged thorns shot toward me. One Bilba casting vines was a problem. Twenty Bilbas doing the same was a struggle too far.
I twisted, spinning away and scanning the beach for a boulder. I cursed my best friend for taking this whole "prepare Zeke for mortal combat" thing way too seriously.
Twenty feet away I found what I sought. A boulder I'd carved from the cliff weeks ago. It was the size of a house and would put me above the battle, either making me a prime target or giving me a defensive position.
Dashing for the rock, I barely outpaced the thorny vines. Behind me, they made swishing sounds as they cut across the sand.
Reaching the boulder, I scampered up. My lungs were on fire, but I didn't have time to rest. The prickly vines rapidly climbed the stone. I flipped Creed around, using the wavy dagger to slice each of them as soon as they came within reach.
"What about you being on my side?"
One of the Bilba figures, the real Bilba, snorted. The other nineteen mimicked him. "I am. That's why I'm not taking it easy on you."
"You know I wouldn't mind if you did." I wasn't sure if he'd heard, mostly based on the evidence that the vines kept coming. Upon closer inspection, they were also growing thicker. "Oh, come on."
Atop the boulder, I could see more of the battlefield. The perspective gave me a sense of greater control. But I was also a sitting target. I had to spin Creed in a constant blur to keep my shield intact as Abilities of all demonic varieties slammed against it and the boulder.
I panted for breath as I moved in a constant circle, maintaining Creed's movement. This couldn't last forever. I was worn out and fading fast.
But then a break came as demons adjusted their strategy. I didn't wait to see what they planned next. I reacted.
Stopping Creed, I thrust it skyward, double-ax head aimed at the sky. Hellfire erupted, arcing before plunging toward the beach. A small amount threatened to burst out of me, but I contained it well enough to convince my friends and fellow residents of the Isle of Dread to scatter.
I chuckled—which was a major accomplishment considering the fact I could barely breathe—as they dove for cover. All around the beach, magic snapped off.
"Sorry, not sorry," I called out. Before I could enjoy a moment of peace, my skin erupted with the sensation of a variety of demonic spells being cast. "Oh, shit!"
Water and ice attacks rained down on my location from every direction just as soon as I got Creed's shield up again. Fire blasted the rock and beach around me, creating thousands of rock and pebble casualties that were blasted into the air and crashed against the shield. Their syncopated thudding almost distracted me. Creatures large and small, all of which were disgusting, popped into existence around the boulder. One of the Deception users even created the mortal character of Satan. This one had to be forty feet tall. The three-pronged pitchfork it held was taller yet. The image reminded me of a mortal heavy metal band's album cover.
"You guys are enjoying this a little too much," I said as I prepared myself.
Slash's laughter confirmed my suspicions. "Oh, we absolutely are."
"Is this still about me beating you in the blazeball tournament?" I asked her.
"I remember us tying, actually." She sounded happy. Way too happy.
"Not me!" Roy wore a mischievous smile on his face. "The Planters have a legitimate grievance against you."
"Me? What did I do?"
"The harpies ate an entire row of our tomato plants."
Still spinning Creed to protect myself, I squinted. "The harpies? I don't have anything to do with them."
He shrugged as if my reply didn't matter. "They blamed you. Someone has to answer for losing all those tomatoes."
The next few minutes were a blur of magic and defensive reactions. Like an outmatched team, I was all out of offense. Creed, my ever mostly faithful companion, kept up with my demands. But I was too distracted under the assault to concentrate. I didn't have a chance to think clearly. Every ounce of my effort went into maintaining my shield.
The attacks converged. Fire, Water, Deception, Construction, and even physical attacks created a maelstrom of destruction. I had nowhere to run and no time to think. So, I did what any demon in my position would do. Something I was good at. I stopped thinking.
Creed's shield swallowed the sky as it expanded with a rush of Hellfire. I heard the cries of my friends and fellow islanders as the azure bubble protecting me rose outward, consuming everything in its path.
Sand took on a glassy sheen as it was licked by the Hellfire. Boulders sagged. Smaller rocks and millions of pebbles melted to goop as it consumed.
"Shit. Shit. Shit!" I cut off the magic and propped myself up on the rock with my halberd. I raised my free hand. "That's it. I quit."
I didn't even have the energy to look up. Curses and groaning answered me.
"That was a little close, Zeke," Ralrek said as he approached.
I glanced toward the cliffs where Cantrell and Dialphio had been supervising the training session. Cantrell's arms were crossed. Dialphio was shaking her head.
Along the beach, demons stood on wobbly legs and helped each other up. Every one of them was covered in sand that turned their hair to a golden brown and their skin the same tone regardless of their true race.
"Good thing you cut it off," Bilba said far too casually for the moment.
"Yeah." I sat down on the boulder and collapsed Creed into its truncheon form, letting it droop in a tired hand.
"Good fight," Melchiot said. "Your mastery of the Hellfire has improved dramatically."
"Thanks."
Ralrek shook his head. "Don't thank us yet. We're doing this again tomorrow."
"And we won't take it so easy on you," Sagittarius said with a wink.
"And the day after that," Marijon added.
"I think we're basically going to keep you on your toes until you wet yourself whenever someone mentions the upcoming fight against Lucifer," Bilba said with a grin, extending a hand to help me off the boulder.
