Demon Singer (27 page)

The Keylac's smile never wavered, but his eyes glittered dangerously.

"Ask the lovely Acheron about the authority of a Keylac, Lyric.  I dispute your claims and submit that your own lack of appropriate caution and care allowed Cadence to be taken from you while you were forcibly ejected from the compound.  The deal stands.  You deliver this envelope to the High Master or I will drag you alive into Hell right now."

Lyric started to answer but Acheron snatched the envelope from the Keylac's hand and shoved it into Lyric's.

"Find your way home asshole, before I test your authority." The demoness hissed angrily.

"See to it that the High Master gets the envelope.  It's intended for him alone.  If he opens it, all will be well, if anyone besides him opens it... well, I don't know what will happen, But my guess is it will be something you'd rather avoid."  With a broad grin and a wink the Keylac vanished.

"What the hell, Acheron?  I'm not honoring a deal that bastard broke!"

"Officially, the Keylac hasn't broken the deal.  I saw your visit to the compound.  You are an intelligent, capable and highly trained soul singer.   You should have been able to complete your task easily with little to no risk to yourself or Cadence.  Instead, you attended that jackass' little dinner party completely unprepared for what would happen."  

"Are you taking his side?!  Wait, of course you are.  That’s stupid of me, you’re a demon.  What authority does he have?"

"Demoness,” Acheron corrected.  “And I’m certainly
not
on his side, considering whoever he’s serving has already tried to send me to the pit.  Regardless, he
does
have authority.  Keylacs are protected by Trytohn himself.  They are the official couriers of Hell, so if you dispute one's commands you'd better be certain you're right.  If he considered you in breach of your contract, he'd take you and I wouldn't be able to stop him."  Acheron was headed back toward the car.  Lyric followed, trying to ignore the swing of her hips.  

"So instead of going to find Cadence, I have to deliver this letter to the Master of my guild.  Going to the very place you just stopped me from going.  And why would I ever give this to the Master of my Guild?  For all I know it’s poisoned."

Acheron took the envelope back and sniffed it.

“No poison, Lover.”  She examined it closely.  “You can sing your discernment song again but I can’t sense anything supernatural about it, aside from the fact the paper it’s printed on is a product of hell.”

The discernment song.  Lyric took the envelope and focused on his breathing.  Singing softly he watched the paper for any sign of malignancy.  The envelope flamed briefly without heat, but that was all.  Lyric ground his teeth in frustration.  What did that mean?  Would it start a fire?  Was it simply reacting that way because it came from hell and the Song came from Heaven?  The Singer looked at his companion.  Acheron met his eyes and shrugged.

“It could be something awful or it could just be a letter.  Maybe someone really wants the High Master's banana bread recipe.  I don’t know.  What I do know is the Soul Singers Guild has been around a long time and survived repeated attacks from Trytohn himself.  So even if it’s something awful it isn’t likely to bring your precious Guild crashing to the ground.”

Lyric felt the pressure of his uncertain future threatening to crush him.  He wished Emma was available to talk to, and offer her quiet wisdom.  Well, as Niq used to tell him, sometimes you reach the end of talking and just need to “do”, and leave the talking to others.  Making a decision he hated he looked again to Acheron.

"Can you find Cadence while I deliver this letter?"

Acheron nodded.

"I can find her, but if she's within the same demon warding the compound was I won't be able to reach her.  This means no rescue by me without punching a very large, very noticeable hole in the wards.  Considering the fun times we've had so far I've got to think you want to stay under the radar as much as possible."

"True enough, but if you can at least find her, we'll know where she is and I can work out a rescue."

"I'll find her, but you need to stop pussyfooting around.  You are better trained than almost anyone else on the planet is to deal with whatever you might encounter.  If I go find your pet, you'll be completely unprotected.  Stay alert and try not to be stupid."

Lyric realized if Acheron hadn't made him sing and break Rondeaux's hold over him, he'd be betraying his Guild and Cadence would be lost.  He knew that the demon wouldn't do anything to help him unless it involved helping herself, but it didn't change the fact she'd put a stop to a disaster in the making.  It was difficult, but he forced the words past his pride.

"Thank you, Acheron."

Acheron flashed that dazzling smile that made his stomach flip over.

"Anything for you, Lover."  She vanished in a flash of lilac scented darkness.

Lyric struggled with the unwanted feelings the demon stirred in him.
Demoness,
he corrected himself.  Then couldn't help but smile wryly as he made his way to the car.

As Lyric drove toward the address given him by the Keylac he considered the events unfolding around him.  He had three payments left to Hell, had valuable information concerning the war that needed to make its way past the rumor mill and straight to the Master of his Guild, or at least Master Lomong.  He needed to find a way to rescue Cadence from Rondeaux's thrall and he still had the mystery of his town's disappearance along with Joe's prophecy to deal with, which apparently had to be fulfilled within the year given him by the Guild.

24 FREAKIN' FAIRIES

The demoness hurtled across the country, reaching Rondeaux's training ground in a matter of minutes.  It was so much faster traveling without having to wait for her Singer.  She slowed down as she reached the location.  Easing up to the perimeter, she felt for the wall of force that kept her out and encountered... nothing.   Frowning she strode forward with hands outstretched well past where the demon proofing should have kept her out.  Swirling out of sight, she ignored the burning discomfort of her spirit form, entered the valley and raced from one end to the other, searching for any sign of life.  The grass was there, the lake, the buildings, but not a single human being.  

Floating to the roof of the large pavilion, she materialized and extended her senses to their limits.  Her ears picked up the sounds of industrious insects, grass breathing and traffic several miles away.  Closing her eyes, she tilted her face to the breeze, searching among the scents for Cadence.  Nothing.  

Damn she hated doing this.  Hated that mute little bitch, though she had to respect her abilities.  She hated that she had to find her, especially since she knew the longer Cadence traveled with them, the more likely it was Lyric would find out who she was.  Acheron wasn't sure what she would do in that case.  

Her strongest inclination was to kill the woman and be done with it.  Unfortunately, Lyric was growing more aware of Acheron and less fearful of the tie.  For the most part that was to her advantage, but it made misleading to him close to impossible.  So, for the time being her strongest inclinations would have to be subjugated by reason.

Oh well, she would find Cadence and get her back to Lyric.  That in itself would do wonders for her cause.

Acheron swirled back to vapor and shot upwards to survey the area.  She saw the tracks from all the buses leading back to the road.  The tracks all seemed to turn east.  She considered where Rondeaux might be headed as she drifted back to the ground.

Taking solid form, she walked toward the road.  Walking was slow, but it was also therapeutic and helped her think.  As she contemplated where she should look next an awareness tickled the edge of her brain.  Instantly she vanished and shot upward only to be forced back to solidity and thrown to the ground.  Back on her feet in an instant she looked around for her attacker and saw only air.  Swirling back to spirit form again she was immediately made solid and thrown to the ground.  This time she heard a laugh.

“Do you think this is a very good idea?” The demoness questioned the air, keeping control of her temper.  “If you have any idea who I am you must know this can’t end well for you.  If you don’t know who I am then you should understand that this will be your last day on earth.”

Another tinkling laugh sounded behind her ear and suddenly she was flying through the air.  Acheron twisted gracefully and landed on her feet.  Obviously, her attacker was invisible, even to her demon sight.  That made her one of the Fair Folk.  That would explain the laughter, those crazy bastards found everything funny.  

The famous story of Sterje the Todii told of how he was captured by Ogres when trying to impregnate one to create a halfling Todii and Ogre.  Unfortunately, being less than bright, his attempt was made on a male Ogre, the chieftain of his particular tribe.  The extremely racist Ogres would never sully their lineage with anything not an Ogre.  The fury Sterje called down upon himself became legend.  The various tortures visited upon him by the wrath of the Ogre tribe lasted for three months, and Sterje laughed through the entire ordeal until he was drawn and quartered.  If you hear the story from one of the Fair Folk, they swear Sterje’s head continued laughing after it was separated from the rest of his body and the Ogres were so freaked out about it they threw it into the sea.  It’s said that you can hear Sterje laughing along the shore as his head is rolled in with the tide.

Acheron knew exactly how to deal with Fair Folk.  Every single one of the horny bastards would give his left arm for a few seconds with a demoness like her.  Gracefully Acheron twirled to her feet, exchanging her jeans and T-shirt for the leather ensemble she favored.  Swinging her hips and putting on her most dazzling smile, she spoke to the air.

“I hear the only thing better than a night with a Fair Folk lad is a night with a Fair Folk lass.  Why are you hiding from me sweetie?  We could be having a good time!”

A hazy outline formed in front of her and coalesced into a voluptuous fairy woman with a mischievous grin and a body like an amusement park.  Two more outlines formed and became well built Fair Folk men.  The three of them grinned at the demoness hungrily.

“The coup de gras is both, my lovely” said one of the men, his clear blue eyes sparkling happily.  He stepped forward as though to embrace her.  Acheron smiled wickedly and as soon as he was within reach, she wrapped an arm around his neck, spun over his back and twisted his head completely off his shoulders.  She landed back on her feet still holding his head in her arm as his body slumped to the ground behind her.  The two remaining fairies stared at her in stunned silence.  Acheron kissed the dead fairy on the cheek then drop kicked his head into the distance.

“Let’s not stop now; I’m looking forward to this.”  Acheron stepped toward the two Fair Folk who immediately faded from view.  A powerful blow hit the side of her head, but she was expecting it.  As soon as contact was made, she grabbed the wrist of her attacker and squeezed it until it crunched.  A grunt sounded nearby and the demoness spun a kick in its direction.  The grunt became a shriek and the second male fairy materialized as her stiletto boot heel found his left eye.  He was pulled backward violently and the girl fairy materialized as well, yanking her partner away from Acheron.  “You two are screwed, aren’t you?”  Acheron sauntered toward them as they continued backing away.  “Why are you here?”

“None of your business, Demoness.”  The girl shoved the man behind her.  “You’re going to be very sorry you killed Bulerto.”

“Not likely, you have no magic that can harm me and even when you go invisible I know how to handle you.”  She gestured to the man behind the girl holding his eye socket.  "You know what I am, but do you know
who
I am?"  The fairy woman met her eyes defiantly.   

"I don't care who you are.  Soon enough you'll be dead."

Acheron's smile widened.  

"I believe your people call me
Thosmere Rift."

The fairy paled at the name.

"Oh, you've heard of me, good!  I haven't visited the Fair Folk Kingdom in..." Acheron made a show of doing some mental arithmetic.   "Gosh, it's been more than a hundred years!  It's nice to know I'm remembered.”  Acheron walked toward the fairy, who to her credit, held her ground.  Getting close enough the fairy could feel her breath on her face Acheron spoke softly.  “You’re quite lovely, and I don’t care much to destroy lovely things.  You may choose to remain stubborn and die horribly or you may choose to tell me what I want to know.  Why are you here?”

“We were ordered to stay and slow down anyone who might come looking for Rondeaux or his new soldier.”

“Okay, so now where have they gone?”

“West, toward California.”

Acheron considered the tracks she saw heading east.

“Are you willing to stake your friend’s other eye on that information?”

The fairy swallowed and looked over at her remaining partner who was curled up on the ground, pitifully moaning and holding his destroyed eye socket while his other wrist lay at an unnatural angle.  Acheron, to make her point stepped over him and rested one boot heel on his cheek just below his good eye.

“They went East,” the fairy said hurriedly.  “I don’t know where they’re ending up.  Rondeaux said we’d find them easily enough if we head East."

The demoness playfully ground her heel lightly into the male fairies cheek as he froze in terror.

“Are you sure this time?”

“Yes, Yes I’m sure.  Leave him alone!”

Acheron stepped away from the damaged fairy and back to the girl.  

“Why is it important to slow me down?  He's surrounded by his army, who does he expect to come looking for him?"

"We don't know," the fairy woman squeaked, trying to force words out past the lump of terror Acheron put in her throat.   "Please don't kill us!"  The poor fairy was close to hysterical.  Acheron smiled and put her arms around the pretty fairy’s waist.  Pulling the trembling woman forward she held her close, stroking her silky hair and running her hands down her body, whispering comforting nonsense into her ear and waiting patiently.  Fairies were narcissistic nymphos that would jump
anyone
who made them feel good.  Acheron's grin widened as she felt the woman's trembles cease and turn to the beginnings of arousal.  The demoness gave the fairy a few more minutes of holding her perfect body.  As soon as the fairies arousal turned from hesitant to excited, Acheron's roaming hands found the joints where the woman's gossamer wings grew from her shoulder blades.

"I'm not going to kill you, beautiful, but you'll wish I had."

The fairy shrieked in agony as the demoness mercilessly ripped the wings from her body.  The pain was too much and the lovely creature passed out.  Acheron tossed the wings in the dirt and crouched down next to the male fairy whimpering on the ground.

“What’s your name, my pretty?”

“Logi Condeve.”

"Logi, what happens when a fairy loses its wings?”

“We become outcasts and can no longer be seen by our own kind.  We lose our magic and any possibility of hearing the Song of Creation.  Slowly we go mad.”

“Spread the word, Logi Condeve,
Thosmere Rift
is alive and well and has declared war against every one of you I come across.  You should have turned and ran the moment you knew what I was.  The truce I made with your king is over.  You and all of your brethren will spend the rest of your lives being very afraid.  Tell the story, tell it to everyone, then come back to me.”

Acheron leaned forward and kissed the fairy’s cheek, her mouth flaring violet flames upon contact and leaving her perfect lips branded on his face.  The fairy cried out in pain and the demoness smiled.  It was so much simpler to handle things when her Singer wasn’t around to cloud her judgment.  

“You bear my brand, Logi, and belong to me from now on.  Go and do as I’ve said.”

Unable to resist the compulsion of Acheron’s command the fairy forced himself to his feet and started walking toward the Fair Folk Kingdom.  Acheron watched him go in satisfaction.  It’d been a long time since she’d bothered making a slave; she’d forgotten how much fun it could be.  So, East.

* * *

Lyric parked his car up the road and approached the Guild on foot.  Looking around the city he again marveled at how normal life was outside the walls of the Singer's Guild.  An entire population shared living space with the most secret of societies, completely unaware of the constant battles the Soul Singers Guild engaged in to protect them from the forces of evil.  The majority of the world’s mysteries could be solved in the fabled secret library of the High Master.  Every soul singer knew that you’d never find mention of the Guild in any books, at least not any that could be read by normal people.  However, an old and tenacious rumor stated that the Guild's master had a secret library where he chronicled the goings on of the soul singers and their exploits.  

Lyric approached the large, nondescript grey walls that covered an entire city block and housed an elite training school that specialized in producing virtuoso musicians.  Its name was the Music School and it was almost as much of a secret as the Guild, though one in plain sight.  The Music School didn’t have a school crest, fielded no athletic teams and didn’t compete on any level in any discipline.  Yet the truly excellent students of Eastman, U of M, Julliard and the Curtis Institute all learned of the Music School one way or another and vied for acceptance into its fabled halls.  The truth was the Music School
was
an excellent school.  Because the instructors were all soul singers and Masters, none but the truly exceptional could pass the audition process.  By the time your studies were finished, not only could you find employment anywhere based purely on the skills and abilities pounded into you, but the average graduate excelled well beyond their peers in whatever field they chose, even if it wasn’t music.

The Singer watched as people rushed up and down the sidewalk in front of the building, never pausing, never noticing.  Never realizing that those who toiled on the other side of the wall defended them repeatedly from death, enslavement and hell on earth.  Wondering what he would encounter, Lyric approached the entrance; the setting sun threw his shadow ahead of him onto the gate.

* * *

Rondeaux watched as thousands of ships sailed out to sea preparing to approach Markhato from the water.  The ocean always called his memories back home.

He'd had the second sight his entire life, and grew up on the Oregon coast with a reputation for being just a bit crazy.  His father, a naturally violent man, had drilled the concepts of honesty and integrity into him from infancy.  As far as he knew, his mother didn't exist.  Therefore, he became the child with the wild imagination and invisible friends, well beyond the age others left theirs behind.