Demon Singer (28 page)

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Authors: Benjamin Nichols

BOOK: Demon Singer
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Eventually he learned discretion and life leveled out.  He joined the military young to escape his tyrannical father and discovered his gift allowed him to see the invisible side of war.  Winning engagement after engagement, he shot up through the ranks. Until the day he saw a dragon heading for a small town in enemy territory.  

 

His unit was supposed to extract enemy soldiers from the town and dispose of them. His superiors didn't care much about collateral damage.  Rondeaux knew if he left it alone, the dragon would destroy every man, woman and child, including the enemy soldiers.  He could walk away and accept another victory.

 

Instead, he led his men straight into the dragon's path and they turned it away.  Not because they beat it, but because the deaths of his own men temporarily satisfied its need for bloodshed.

 

Rondeaux alone walked back to base.  He could have lied and made it out to be an ambush.  With tears pouring down his cheeks, the soldier told the truth.

 

Starting the day a highly decorated war veteran, Rondeaux finished it disgraced, discharged and declared "mentally ill".

 

A beautiful woman met him the next day and took him to meet his goddess.  She'd been watching him and now called him to service.

 

Shaking his head free of the haze of memories, general Rondeaux watched his army,
his
army, board ship and prepare for the most important engagement in human history.

 

He still rankled at the release of the demon singer, but his goddess had made her wishes clear.  He didn't care for subterfuge in battle but understood its necessity.  He even left some of his lesser-desired personnel to lead the demon back east if she showed up.

 

He was bothered most about Cadence's disappearance.  Especially since he learned Giderg had escaped custody and deserted. He found himself hoping the wine was working. He never cared for his ability anyway.

 

 

 

 

 

 

25 FALLEN

 

Lyric’s best friend Philip stood at the inner gate of the giant courtyard that surrounded the Guild.  Upon seeing Lyric, he cried out in joy and ran to embrace his friend, ignoring the embarrassed looks of the guards standing at the gate.

“Lyric!  You’re alive!  I’d heard you were dead!  Thanks be to the Composer!”  Philip’s sturdy arms held Lyric at arm's length to look him over, as if to verify it really was his friend.  Then he pulled him back into the hug while Lyric tried to breathe.

 

“Alive, my friend,” the Singer confirmed, clasping his own arms around his friend.  The pinpricks at the back of his eyes turned to shameless tears as he rejoiced in the comfort of being in a place he loved with a friend he could trust.  

 

Eventually the embrace approached that line shied away from by all men and the two friends released one another to regard each other, grinning like idiots.

 

“Why are you pulling guard duty?”  Lyric asked, hurriedly wiping away the tears from his cheeks.   “Singers in their seventh measure don’t have guard duty.”

 

Philip was standing in his characteristic beefy arms crossed over his beefy chest pose and looked down at his own chest.  Lyric followed the direction of his gaze and saw the pendant of the Blue Eye hanging where his Singer pendant had been and gasped.

 

“Philip, you’re a Discerner!  I don’t know how I should feel.  Is this a happy development or a disappointment?”  

 

“Absolutely thrilled, Lyric.  I am pleased to be of service to the Voice in protection of those who protect the Score of Creation.”

 

“So you didn’t tie?”

 

Philip’s eyes lost a bit of their glow.

 

“No.  I sang strong and believe I could have, but after losing you…”

 

“You pulled back.”  Lyric finished.  His friend was an excellent Singer and more than capable of tying to a Verger.  After losing his sister to a demon a few years ago, and then apparently losing his best friend to another demon, he could see why Philip would shy away from the tie.  Though no one had ever tied a demon before, the precedent had now been set and Lyric knew there was nothing on earth that could convince Philip that was a risk worth taking, no matter how small.  “I’m sorry my friend.”

 

Philip’s smile returned.

 

“Don’t be.  My discernment scores have gone through the roof since the casting.  Chab thinks it’s because I’m no longer double-minded and now I can concentrate on being useful.”

 

"Of course he does."  Chab was a notorious elitist in the Guild.  He was constantly exhorting singers to be open to other forms of service.   "Listen, Philip, I need to talk to the High Master as quickly as possible.  Is he in the Guild today?"

 

"I think so.  Even if he isn't he'll be back soon.  I can't wait to tell everyone you're free of the demon."

 

"Demoness," Lyric corrected.  Putting his hands on his friend's shoulders, he stopped him and turned to face him.  "Philip, I'm not free of her.  We're still tied.

 

The smile froze on Philip's face.

 

"What?  It's not here though.  Where is it?" Philip began looking around in a panic.  "Why did you come back if you're still tied to that thing, Lyric?!"  Philip the Discerner rounded on his long time friend, all traces of the joy at their reunion had fled from his demeanor.  Lyric was taken aback at the abrupt and drastic change.  "What gives you the right to put this Guild in danger?  Where is the demon?"

 

"She's not here, I have her searching for a friend of mine.  I'm sorry, Philip, I haven't managed to break the tie yet.  I'm here to get information to the Guild Master concerning Melody and the war as well as deliver this letter to him."

 

"You have her search..." Philip sputtered in outrage. "Of all the tone deaf... You treat it as if...  What's in the letter?"   He finally managed.

 

"I'm sorry my friend, this envelope can only be opened safely by the High Master himself.  It really is imperative I see him right away."

 

"How did you come by this information, Lyric?" Philip's eyes accusatory.  "A gift from your new friend?   Or the one you haven't 'managed' to break free of?  Or is it that you haven't tried?"

 

Lyric stared at his friend in stunned disbelief.

 

"Philip, you can't mean that.  You know better than anyone how I feel about Hellions."

 

"Hellions?!" Philip's face reddened.  "Don't you mean demons, Lyric?"  He shouted in Lyric's face, his rage radiating like heat.  "Gone for months, no word from you, rumors you had died a hundred different ways!  Now here you are, none the worse for wear calling demons by their own titles for themselves, sending one on an errand for you and claiming knowledge for the High Master you're arrogant enough to think he doesn't already have!  What should I think, Demon Singer?"

 

Lyric didn't remember striking his friend, but there was the proof.  Philip was ten yards away, lying on the ground with an amazing goose egg already decorating his jaw.  Suddenly rough hands grasped his arms and forced them behind his back.  He didn't resist as he worriedly watched his friend stand up, praying to the Voice he was okay.

 

"Hold him," Philip said coldly.  Stepping forward he looked Lyric in the eye.  "I should not have called you that.  I apologize and ask your forgiveness..."

 

"Granted."  Lyric said immediately. Philip nodded and continued.

 

"I retract nothing else.  This is how it appears to me.  And for me appearances are important."  He tapped his pendant.

 

"Do it!" Lyric said.  "Use your song and discern my nature and intent.  See for yourself."

 

"I pray I find what I hope and not what I fear."

 

Philip's smooth baritone began the discernment song.  Lyric felt an odd twinge in his tie, a feeling of warning filled him.  Something was wrong.  He'd been sincere in his suggestion, certain Philip would find him the same friend he'd known for the last seven years.  All at once he wasn't so sure.  Anxiety began to eat at him as he remembered what he'd seen of himself in Rondeaux's valley.  The black half that caused him so much concern and the General so little.   He wondered what the song would reveal.  He kept still and watched his friend.   Philip was well into the song and his eyes had that glassy faraway look that belongs to those who see things you can't.  Lyric used to make fun of Philip when they were learning the song together because whenever he sang it, his eyes had a tendency to be attracted to one another.  Lyric saw this was no longer the case.  He studied his friend and tried to place what had changed about him besides the obvious.

 

Philip was tall and well muscled.  He'd been chubby when they started together but the Guild had a tendency to work that out of you.  He stood erect with excellent posture.  His face was open and relaxed, as it should be when using proper technique.  None of this was new though, Lyric had watched Philip sing hundreds of times.  He listened as Philip entered the last part of the song and realized what it was.  Philip was confident.  He was completely at ease in his role as Discerner, responsible for the safety of the Guild. Lyric was conflicted inside.  Part of him rejoiced at seeing his friend assume the mantle of such a weighty responsibility with such ease and comfort.  Another part was angry that his friend didn't trust him anymore.  Regardless of Lyric's own feelings, though, he could be glad for one thing.   Philip had found his part in the Score.

 

The song ended and Philip gestured for the guards to release Lyric.  They did so immediately, but remained at attention on either side of the Singer.

 

Philip stared at Lyric for a long time before speaking.

 

"I've only been at this for a month, but nothing has surprised me until now." he started slowly, as though carefully considering his words.  "I find no darkness in you, Lyric."  Lyric thought this was good news and wondered why his friend looked so sober.  His heart sank as Philip continued.  "Nor can I find any light in you.  It's as if you are gray.  I sense tremendous power coming from you and from the place you're tied.  Power I wouldn't think any man could wield without burning up.  That in itself is unique and frankly, frightening.  However, for the first time I cannot discern the nature of that power or the objective of it.  Part of you doesn't even seem human."  Sadness stole across Philip's expressive face.  "What has happened to you my friend?"

 

"Too many things, Philip.  There's no one else I'd rather tell the story to than you.  But I
must
get to Ervin.  The war isn't coming, Philip, it's here.  Less than three weeks away."

 

"Impossible, the woman hasn't the strength of numbers to attack Markhato.  It would be suicide."

 

"That's just it!" Lyric said.  "
She
doesn't have the numbers, but her general
does!
 I need to give my report to the Master and deliver this message."  He held up the envelope given to him by the Keylac.  Philip deftly plucked it from his hand.  "Don't!" Lyric grabbed for the envelope but Philip held it away from him, opening it up.

 

Everything went nuts.

 

The envelope exploded in a huge green ball of flame that sent Lyric, Philip and the guards flying like paper dolls in a strong wind.  

 

Instantly, Lyric was back on his feet, his insides cold as ice.  He had no idea what happened but it couldn't possibly end well.

 

Philip was just as quickly back up, the guards took a moment longer.  Philip turned to face Lyric, his face registering shock, then worry and finally rage.  Lyric had seen that look on Philip's face once before.  The night they found the men who sold his sister to the demon.  

 

Lyric remembered that awful night all too clearly. He remembered the smell of rot and sulfur.  He remembered a rough tag in his shirt that bothered his neck.  He remembered the fire, the cold wind and the look on Philip's face as he exacted retribution on the men responsible for his little sister's death. Eight men died violently that night.  Now Philip was staring at Lyric with that same look on his face.  Lyric felt panic threaten, he didn't want to hurt his friend.  He felt an answering twist in his tie to Acheron.  Then he ignored everything but the fight in front of him.

 

Philip was an inch taller than Lyric but half again as wide.  The Singer didn't want to display his demon-enhanced strength and cause even more of a rift between them.  He thought quickly and sang a brief phrase that yanked his friend over his head and hurled him across the courtyard.

 

Philip was a trained singer, though.  He may not possess Lyric's natural ability, but he made up for it by drilling and practicing and forcing his mind and body to recall various useful pieces.  Lyric knew he out muscled Philip vocally, but combat song was about more than just strength.

 

Philip sighed out a calm line that slowed his momentum and brought him lightly to his feet.  Turning on Lyric, he approached, hyperventilating to flood his body with oxygen and enable longer phrases.

 

"Philip, don't, I don't want to fight you."

 

Philip ignored Lyrics protests and began his combat song.

 

Sparks of blue rose from the ground and coalesced into a brilliant ball of cobalt fire.  With a well-rehearsed motion, Philip sent the ball spinning toward Lyric expanding as it went.

 

Lyric had already grabbed the theme of Philip's combat song.  Humming smoothly, with a beautiful cascading vocal line Lyric made a motion with his arm as though wiping a window.  A clear sheet of water followed his motion and intercepted the fireball.

 

Green light flared behind him and something came hurtling through the gates.  Lyric recognized who it was instantly.

 

"Kill no one!" He shouted as Acheron tore into the contingent of guards preparing to rush Lyric.  The demoness snarled and somersaulted away as the guards restored their balance and prepared to rush her.

 

Acheron grinned wickedly and motioned them forward.  Her smile turned to a look of shock as a huge yellow troll popped into existence in front of her and backhanded her across the courtyard.

 

Lyric could only be aware peripherally of what was happening to the demoness as he focused on countering Philip's next attack.  A keening wail called forth a volley of shrieking arrows with eagle heads.  Lyric closed his eyes and countered, a rapid motif that sent lightning singing into the deadly barrage, burning to ash each missile.

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