Demon Singer II (26 page)

       Jessica walked up to Trytohn and pushed him into the pit.

       "Lisian, pet," Varia embraced Lisian who was staring in shock at where Trytohn had just been standing. "Hell is yours now, but our work isn't finished. The tree holding Acheron's magic has been destroyed, which was not part of my plan. I fear the tide of battle in the singer village has shifted. You need to get there immediately and sever the tie between Acheron and Lyric.  Blink will take you, go now."

       Lisian stared blankly at Varia, seeming unable to decide how she was feeling. She let Blink take her hand and vanished.

       Varia turned to Jessica and smiled.

       "Jessica Fairfield, your mother's debt to me is paid in full. You are free to go your own way, or..."

       Jessica waited for him to finish and finally said.

       "Or what?"

       Varia grinned broadly as if her prompting gave him some mysterious satisfaction.

       "Or I have a friend I'd like you to meet.  Blink will be back in a moment and we'll go see her."

       "How will we get out without Lisian?" Jessica asked doubtfully. "Isn't she our ticket through the gates?"

       "Indeed, Lisian controls the gates of hell, we'd never escape without her. Luckily you're with someone who controls Lisian.  We'll be okay."

       Blink abruptly reappeared and Varia took Jessica's hand.

       "Ready to leave hell, Miss Fairfield?"

       "Hell yes."

       "I think you will like Bonen Tansyon, she's a sweetheart."

*   *   *   *   *

        Ruby became aware of a warmth on her right thigh.  
What a stupid time to be distracted
, she thought to herself but glanced down anyway. Her eyes widened as she realized something in her pocket was glowing.  The only thing in that pocket was the white stone that belonged to her mother.

        Looking back at the dwarves she was sad to think she would die without knowing why it was glowing. As they approached she noted she could see them much better. The glow in her pocket was so bright she could see it in her peripheral vision. To her surprise the dwarves abruptly stopped advancing. They all stood quietly, staring at her leg.  Ruby looked down again and wondered what the implications were in what she was seeing.  The glow in her pocket had seemed white, now she saw it was a multitude of colors, some she couldn't name. What was going on?

        One by one the dwarves knelt before her, lowering their weapons and bowing their heads.  Ruby had no clue what to do, so she stood still and waited. Soon one of the dwarves in the front stood up and slowly approached unarmed with his hands out.

        "May we ask your name, highness?"

        "My name is Ruby Rain of the Composer." Ruby kept her shotgun at the ready, but lowered the barrel slightly.  "Not that I'm complaining, but what's going on? Why did you stop?"

        The dwarf seemed completely unconcerned by her weapon.  His eyes remained fixed on the light emanating from her leg until she told him her name. Then his gaze snapped to her face in startled recognition.

        "The mountain has claimed you, Queen Ruby Rain of the Composer. You are the rightful protector of the Light of Markhato." The dwarf bowed as he spoke her name.

        Ruby's thoughts were whirling and she was dreadfully nervous of striking the wrong chord with the suddenly mellow dwarves.  One thing she was certain of, she wasn't about to deny the thing that seemed to be saving her life.

        "That makes sense, I suppose. My Grandfather was David Westfall." She aimed for sounding nonchalant and feared she came up somewhere in the vicinity of sounding stupid. All things considered she decided forming a coherent sentence should count as a win. "Does this mean you are going to stop attacking the city?"

        "For now," the dwarf lifted a horn hanging from his belt and blasted some awful noise that she imagined resembled the sound of a team of ducks being punted like footballs.  That analogy led her to the thought that she really needed to find new friends. Joss and Anaya were a terrible influence. Several similar horns desecrated the night air throughout the city. The dwarf noticed her cringe at the noise.

        "I've heard they sound terrible," he said, "but then, so would Dwarven music if it existed. To us sound is sound, beauty doesn't factor in, so we need something discernable. You can hear these horns from far away and are not likely to confuse them with anything else."

        As he spoke, the dwarves behind him melted away into the night.

        "Does that mean you stopped the attack?"

        "I have for now. But I'll have to justify the reason quickly, or it will begin again. I need you to come with me."

        "I don't think so," Ruby shook her head emphatically. "Thank you for stopping the fighting. But I need to find my friends. They'll be worried about me, which tends to give one of them horrible gas."

        "I'm truly sorry, majesty, but I really need you to accompany me to see my king. Otherwise I won't be able to keep my people from resuming their attack."

        "So I'm a prisoner?"

        The dwarf looked genuinely shocked.

        "Of course not! That would betray your trust in coming with me. No dwarf will lay a hand on you."

        Ruby blinked.

        "How can you possibly promise that?"

        "Dwarves aren't humans, majesty.  We don't deal in subterfuge and dishonesty." His rebuke was gentle but clear. What's a girl to do?

        "Groovy, let's go meet your king."

Chapter 19

        "Hello little sister." Lisian called to Acheron. "I've come for you."

        "Been looking forward to it!" Acheron called back.

        Lyric wasn't sure why he expected there to be more of an exchange. Lisian and her retinue surged forward to attack.

        Catching what must have been a were badger in mid air, Lyric spun around like a hammer thrower and hurled it back into the trees. He was startled by what he saw during that brief spin as he began his battle song. It appeared the entire village was rushing down to hill to join the fighting. He admired their can do attitude but lamented the unavoidable loss of life.

        He focused on the fight at hand. A trio of harpies launched themselves at him. Lyric continued his song as he turned his attention to them. A quick descending phrase convinced gravity to ignore the power in their wings.  The result was all three vile creatures face planting in the dirt. An elf approached from the left holding a banishing blade and Lyric met him with a fist that caved in the front of his head.  That was gross.  Next he faced a handful of vamps.

        The Singer recalled his friend Philip making him watch a Star Wars movie marathon. They had then discussed at length how a Singer might be able to fashion one of the fancy colorful plasma swords used by the good guys. They had tried several times unsuccessfully.   Oberon's fight with Cadence gave Lyric an idea they hadn't tried  and he sang to the sunshine, molding it into a razor sharp sword.  Leaping at the vampires he decapitated one, leveraged the momentum of the swing into a reversed spinning thrust that skewered another.  Pulling the sword free he slashed the third across the chest and followed up with a thrust to its throat that left it gurgling on the grass.

        The Singer was growing fond of his sun sword but realized it wouldn't do much against the dozen or so fomorians approaching him. Letting it wink out of existence he backed away from them and searched out Acheron.  The demoness was engaged in combat with her sister.

        
Acheron,
he thought,
if I sing my eighth measure, we can handle this quickly.

        True enough, Lover,
the demoness replied.
But without your pet absorbing the cost I'm afraid of what it will do to you.

        The cost Acheron referred to was their built in governor.  By himself, Lyric was deadly. Being tied to the demoness made him  more powerful than any other human alive.  The eighth measure gave him complete mastery over her and her abilities. The vastness of that power required a counter balance.  By taking control of the demoness, Lyric opened himself to her reality, and the eternal and relentless burning of hellfire that was her constant companion.

        Lyric continued backing away from the giants and picked up an elf who was preparing to skewer one of the townsfolk. He hurled the hapless creature at the approaching fomorians and winced as they crushed it beneath their feet.

        Nasty.

        That's a risk I need to take,
the singer said,
otherwise there will be a lot of lost life here.

        
Acheron smoked out and reappeared next to Lyric.

        "Make it snappy," she said. "Lisian will figure it out quickly."

        Lyric nodded in reply and sang his eighth measure, sending his consciousness into the demoness' body. like a reverse possession.

        Every cell of his being exploded in agony. The eighth measure itself wasn't anything exciting, it was simply a key. What it unlocked though was the insanity of a nuclear explosion held inside his skull. The hell fire that was a constant fixture in Acheron's world instantly reduced him to a quivering mess.

        
Conquer it, Lyric
the demoness' thoughts were much closer and louder inside her body.
You have to fight through it.

        In the midst of the shrieking pain a small, lucid portion of Lyric's brain recalled something important. He
couldn't
fight through it, he wasn't supposed to. When the angel Revelation had healed Cadence he told Lyric that the hellfire was to serve as a countermeasure to his pride.  He could withstand the fire only when he relied on the Composer. The only way for him to do that was to do what he was trained to do. Sing into the Score of Creation and seek to harmonize as best he could.

        Acheron's pain didn't lessen, the flames remained. Lyric didn't feel shackled by them though. Instead, in seeking to sing his part in the score of creation he found a soothing, cool peace that, in context, made zero sense.  One of the mysteries of the Composer unlocked in his mind: Peace for the Soul Singer wasn't the absence of conflict. It was the security of being harmony with the Voice in the midst of conflict.  Suddenly the flames didn't matter.

        Lyric felt Acheron sobbing. She felt his peace.  He remembered a time he sang of peace once before and how it hurt her.

        
I'm sorry, we'll hurry.
He thought to her and began his battle song.  It was odd hearing it in her voice.

        Surging Acheron forward into the fomorians Lyric smoked out and focused the hellfire.  Once in the midst of them he flared back to physical form and the giants bellowed in pain as the fire burned them, causing them to scatter in a panic. Supernaturals that got in their way got trampled. A large troll tried to stand in their way and was backhanded across the field into a tree.  He didn't get back up.

        Lyric focused on the Score of Creation, and noticed there were numerous small motifs that didn't seem to fit, but nor were they out of place. It took a moment for him to realize the townsfolk were singing as they fought. Another newly familiar theme was present but he couldn't identify it just yet.

        Seeing the battle through Acheron's eyes was incredible. Not only could he see the veiled manifestations of each supernatural, he could see something else that made him question his sanity. Without any similar experience for context, the best assessment he could make was that he was seeing the Score of Creation as well as hearing it. His brain forced his perception to make sense of it, which in turn caused Acheron's eyes to see musical staves and notes everywhere.

        Looking for Cadence, Lyric found her locked in combat with Lisian in front of his body.  Lisian was attacking fiercely, sending flames at the Verger with every strike. Cadence was taking more damage than she was built for, but held her own. Then Oberon appear behind her, raising his sword high. Already deep into his battle song, Lyric knew exactly how to handle the Fairy King.  Exerting his will and creativity, the singer summoned iron from the ground that rose up in small balls to encircle Oberon at waist height. Another phrase and the iron plunged deep into his flesh.

        The Fairy King's scream was so loud it was heard clearly by everyone on the field.  He collapsed in agony, then scrambled away, probably concerned for his life. A large griffin came winging down and snatched Oberon, carrying him away into the trees.

        A cluster of ogres nearby were slaughtering everyone who came against them. Lyric sang an ascending phrase that dropped at the end. In response, ground behind them rose up like a tidal wave, trees and all, and dropped on them, burying them in several tons of dirt and rock and lumber.

        Quickly scaling the pile, Lyric turned to look at the battle. Acheron's eyes were able to discern every movement, every fighter, individually at once. Lyric's brain couldn't process the information fast enough.  Looking to end the fight before anymore townsfolk were killed, he sang a variation of the discernment song he learned in the Guild.  A green glow appeared above each attacking creature.  Focusing on the glows was much simpler.

        Lyric hated the cacophony of war.  Listening closely to the rhythm of fighting and the pitched of the screams he adjusted his battle song.  Baily Storn had taught him to move with the song, how physical actions could help focus and direct attacks.  Today he would use those lessons in a new way. Folding Acheron's hands together he shoved them toward the pile on which he stood. Her voice surged powerfully in his battle song and he released that energy into the ground.  Out on the battlefield, huge gouts of hellfire blew the enemy high into the air.  Several were completely incinerated but not enough.  He needed a way to put a stop to the army before it destroyed the townsfolk.

        He prepared to launch another attack at the enemy.  Shoulders wide and relaxed, chest elevated and floating, he filled Acheron's lungs when a new pain ripped through his throat and suddenly he was back in his own body, both hands holding his neck.  The hellfire was gone, but the pain in his throat was just beginning. Falling weakly  to his knees and gurgling wetly he began to panic. Lisian stood before him, Cadence unmoving at her feet. The demoness held a familiar knife.  It was the same blade Keith Normvy used to sever the Soul tie between Acheron and Lyric. Was Cadence dead? Lyric felt warmth oozing between his fingers as they held his neck. Lisian had cut his throat.

        Lyric was alone.  

*   *   *   *   *

        "I don't have any authority to make promises for Markhato or the Milleytes Lux." Ruby didn't know how much plainer she could say it. "Nor do I have any knowledge of a conspiracy within the Milleytes Lux to kill, oppress or generally annoy the dwarves who live here."

        "You came here claiming to be the queen of Markhato and now you're saying you have no authority." Thenso Hefit tapped a thick finger on his throne. "After your army's poor efforts at stemming the zombie riots, you will forgive me if I think you're either a liar or a poor queen."

        "I'm a new queen," Ruby forced herself to be patient, thinking to herself that as far as virtues go, patience sucked. "As your captain said, the Light of Markhato claimed me less than an hour ago. King David Westfall was my grandfather, so I didn't argue. But no one else in Markhato sees me as queen. They certainly don't answer to me or seek my counsel or approval."

        "I had the pleasure of dining with David Westfall.  He would have made a good dwarf.  We will need to verify your right to be queen. Thoughts?"

        The assembled council of Dwarven elders had been whispering together, now they stopped. One stood and spoke.

        "In general we find verification a waste of time, King Hefit. It would be stupid to disbelieve the word of Captain Thurt. As always, we will yield to your will, no matter how stupid it may be." The Dwarven elder sat back down.

        Ruby blinked. She had no interest in politics and consequently had never paid much attention. At best, her lifestyle was disdainful of the law. Even so, in her estimation this was definitely not the respect one should show a king. Thenso seemed okay with it, though. He sat on his throne nodding gravely as though carefully weighing his advisors words. Dwarves were weird.

        "I understand your point, but I wonder if you have considered that Captain Thurt may have misunderstood the sign he saw or even been misled by the man here." He gestured at Ruby.

        "Um, your Majesty, I'm a woman."

        The dwarf shrugged and ignored her as his advisors put their heads together again. Ruby watched, curious as to why one of them was so much larger than the others.  The speaker stood again.

        "We still think it a foolish waste of time. However, we understand your desire for a clearer discernment. Especially when dealing with slow witted men." The speaker made the same careless gesture toward Ruby as the king.

        "Seriously!" Ruby protested. "I'm not a guy,  I'm a woman." The speaker considered her for a brief instant, then shrugged and turned his attention back to his king.

        "I have a solution that will end this lengthy and pointless debate." The king stood up.  All his advisors rose to their feet as well, so Ruby followed suit and cracked her melon on the ceiling. "We will perform the wedding ceremony. Thus, this 'not a guy' will be officially made queen in the sight of Markhato's leadership council, or we can resume the eviction."

        "What wedding ceremony?" Ruby rubbed her head as she followed the king out of the meeting room. "And why can you differentiate between King and Queen and not between man and woman."

        "You men have so many words.  Man, woman, boy, girl, guy, gal, lady, gentleman, dude, chick, dame, fella, male, female and so on.  It's ridiculous. Dwarves are dwarves. We are many or we are one. The only important distinctions are he, she, adult and child.  Even there you foolishly waste time and energy labeling. Infant, baby, toddler, youth, missy, junior, child, teen, adolescent, etc.  It's exhausting and stupid.  A dwarf is a child until we can provide for a family, then we are adults. The only final distinction is that of elder. A dwarf becomes an elder once we have had enough unique experiences that we have a unique perspective to offer."

        "What's the difference between kings and queens then?"

        King Hefit looked at her like she was an idiot.

        "Kings have a penis and queens have a vagina."

        Ruby sighed.  Dwarves were weird.

        "And the wedding ceremony?"