Demon Singer II (4 page)

              The demons though, they were a mess; insane, angry and strong, some with powers that rivaled his own.

              Acheron.

              Another wave of anger swept through the fairy King's body.

              His children called her Thosmere Rift.  It began as a description and became her name.  A result of her nasty habit of burning them to a crisp.  They had been feuding for centuries, the Fair Folk and the demoness, relentlessly harassing each other, until Acheron grew bored.

              She
proposed the treaty.  No more killing, no more burning, no more casting spells on her that made her greet dogs the naughty way.  Oberon saw it as a win-win and eagerly agreed.

              The Fairy King looked at his son, Logi Condeve and the fury continued roiling inside him.  He paced back and forth, waiting for Thosmere Rift to pass by.

              Logi had been stupid, true.  He was sucked into serving the false goddess Melody in a pointless war on the second sight city of Markhato.  Oberon had not even been to the City of Light since he setup the warding spells for them. These days he preferred the peaceful bliss of his kingdom, the land of Faerie, or his vacation home on the British Isles. Now his son stood by, one eye short and a brand the shape of Acheron's perfect lips on his cheek. He had openly - shamelessly - told his father what happened.  Arrogantly he professed his undying devotion to the demoness; not caring that it meant his death.

              In an effort to save his son and punish Acheron, Oberon brokered a deal between Trytohn and the Thunder Monks. Secretly of course, the Thunder Monks guarded the storehouses of nature's wrath just outside the gates of heaven. They would never voluntarily do business with the chief Fallen. Still, Oberon needed both to make his plan work.

              Promising an end to the Thunder Monks Curse, he elicited an agreement from them to capture Acheron's magic. A little dance, a small storm and no more would their daughters die before their sixteenth birthdays. All they needed was something of Acheron's to make it work. True, his son's face would never be the same, but that’s what you get for being stupid.

              Trytohn was easier to convince. He'd do business with anyone and the promise of his favorite demoness’ magic was irresistible. All he had to provide were Runes from his personal alphabet that had the power to bind Acheron without involving the Power of Bondage herself.

              Oberon stopped pacing and looked up the road.  They were approaching.  He smiled grimly and sent his son to the Thunder Monks so he could prepare his attack.

*   *   *   *   *

              A flutter in his tie to Acheron caused Lyric to look at her in the mirror.  She was staring intently out the window.  He noticed Cadence was looking at the demoness as well.  She had felt it too.  Concentrating on the sensations he was picking up he realized he smelled... sunshine.

              "I smell fairies."  The demoness said.

              Lyric did not bother challenging her statement.  Partly because he had been through so much the last few weeks alone that nothing seemed impossible - or even unusual - anymore.  Partly because he was swerving to avoid two large oak trees that had just stepped into the road directly ahead of them.  Thankfully, the Keylac's tune up on his vehicle included the brakes.  He briefly wondered when hell's mutt would be showing up with another demand for payment on his contracts.

              Once stopped, Lyric jumped out of his car to find they were surrounded by a ring of large trees that was slowly tightening.  Listening carefully to the song of creation he found the melody that sang of the oaks and began humming, subtly imposing his own will on them.  The trees ceased their movement and waved their branches gently in time to Lyric's song.

              "You truly have a gift, young man."  A handsome man with a shock of disheveled gray hair sat on a low limb of the tree in front of Lyric's car.

              "You flatter me, Mr..?" Lyric waited for the stranger to fill in the blank, certain he would not.

              "Call me Thistle." The man replied promptly.  "Father of the dizzy oaks and child of the winds."

              Acheron snorted derisively.

              "Ill met by sunlight, foolish Oberon." The demoness bowed mockingly.

              "You know, I never understood your fascination with Bill." The Fairy King said conversationally, turning his attention to Acheron.  "Being his muse I understand, it would feed your vanity.  But protecting him from the plague, killing him before that embarrassing business with his son, even protecting his bones."  The Fairy King leapt gracefully to the ground and approached the trio.  Stopping a few feet away he gave Lyric the once over.  "Methinks you have a soft spot for the artsy types."

              Acheron shrugged.

              "Shakespeare said beautiful things, I appreciate beauty."

              Oberon walked around the three of them, staring unapologetically.  Cadence drew her sword and pointed it at the fairy King's face.

              "What do you want, Oberon?" She asked directly.   

              Oberon scowled, but to his credit, he did not flinch away from the iron that was toxic to his kind.  Then his eyes widened in shock as he looked closely at Cadence.

              "Your highness!" The Fairy King dropped to one knee. Lyric and Acheron each cocked a surprised eyebrow "You've left the Verge! Why? And what are you doing with her?" He jerked his head at the demoness.

              "Not your business, Oberon. Why do you detain us?"

              The Fairy King looked back and forth between the three companions and his jaw dropped in shock as he reached his conclusion.

              "You were ruler of the entire Verge and you threw it away for a
human?
"

              Cadence did not bother answering, the point of her sword remained fixed on the Fairy King's face.

              "Oberon," Lyric's voice cracked with authority.  The fairy king winced and looked at him in annoyance.  "It's been a long few months and right now I'm on my way to bury friends. What is it that you want?"  

              Oberon held his anger in check.  He had nothing against this singer. In truth, he respected the man as much as he was able to respect a mortal.  If not for Lyric's success in Markhato, Oberon's way of life on earth could have changed drastically.  Rising to his feet, he turned toward Acheron.

              "Thosmere Rift has declared an end to our truce.  I've come to reply."  The sky darkened and thunder shook the air.  Oberon smiled unpleasantly.  "I've sent a little patch of skin to the Thunder Monks.  They've consented to dance for me for this special occasion."

              Acheron's fingers touched her lips in surprise.

              Acheron, what the hell is going on?
 Lyric thought across the tie. An odd sensation floated back and Lyric was staggered by vertigo.  His lips tingled, and then went numb.

              Acheron stumbled to the ring of trees trying to pass between them.  Something was stopping her. She shook her head as though confused and focused on one of the large oaks leaning heavily against it with both hands.  The tree began to glow and strange runes appeared on the rough bark. What she saw carved there made her curse a blue streak that included words Lyric had never heard before.

              Lyric did not know what was going on but decided Oberon was the immediate threat.  He sang a holding song focused on the Fairy King, but dizziness washed over him in waves from Acheron's tie and made his song weak and faltering.  Oberon shook off the Singer's influence and waved a hand casually in Lyric's direction, then at Cadence who approached from the opposite side.  Lyric suddenly found his mouth full of peanuts and saw Cadence pulled beyond the perimeter of the trees by a cloud of tiny multi colored lights. Lyric tried to spit out the peanuts only to discover they simply reappeared.  Frustrated, he threw himself at the Fairy King, determined to stop whatever he had planned for Acheron.  Oberon waved a hand at Lyric's feet and the Singer sank into the sod up to his knees.

              Oberon walked over to the demoness who had collapsed in a heap on the ground.  Crouching down beside her, he ran a finger down her cheek.  Suddenly Cadence's sword rested against his throat.  Smoke rose from his skin where the blade touched him.  Oberon met her eyes and raised his finger. The sword turned into a flock of butterflies that scattered merrily on the wind.

              "This circle is my domain, your highness.  In here
I
am the power."

              Cadence seemed unimpressed and produced one of her silver raptor blades.  Oberon held up a staying hand and the warrior stopped moving.  Rage twisted her beautiful features as she struggled against his magic.  Oberon turned his attention back to Acheron, leaning down to speak in her ear.

              "You broke our truce when you broke my son; you killed another of my children and destroyed my daughter." He said softly. "If you are Thosmere Rift, then I am the Raif Sunirou."  He kissed her on the temple.  Lightning flashed from his mouth and the demoness cried out in pain.  Oberon vanished, and there on her flawless skin was the imprint of the Fairy King's lips.

              Lyric was released from the ground. He spit out peanuts as he stumbled over and knelt beside the demoness. The sensations passing through the tie alarmed him.  Helping her up he guided her back to the car as huge fat raindrops began to fall.

              "What did he do to you?" Cadence asked, obviously feeling the effects of whatever Oberon did to Acheron.

              "He locked me in this form and took away my powers." The demoness leaned on Lyric.  "I'm helpless."

              "The tie is still there." Lyric pointed out.

              "That's your magic, Lover, not mine."

              "You're a demoness, you don't require magic to live."  The Singer pointed out.

              Acheron smiled.

              "Call it powers, call it magic, call it fried eggs, I am a creature of will and shadows that has put on human form. Without my magic, I will fade and eventually land back in hell, defenseless. He wants me punished. I have a
lot
of enemies that would love to help with that."

              "Thosmere Rift. That means the firestorm, right?" Lyric asked.

              "Yes, it's the fairies' name for me." Acheron whispered allowing herself to be helped into the backseat.

              Lyric closed her door and concentrating on the oaks he sang a brief phrase, moving them apart far enough to drive through.  Sliding behind the wheel, he turned on the windshield wipers, pulled free of the trees and looked at the demoness in his rearview mirror.                 

              "And what did he call himself?  The Raif Sunirou?"

              Acheron rested her head on the window, watching the water run down the glass.

              "The Furious Rain.”

Chapter 2

              Gar Lich, zombie boss, business man and all around bad guy, was more than a little annoyed.  His right hand man, Cicero, could testify to that better than anyone.  

              Well...

              He
would
...

              If he could talk.  

              It's hard to talk when you're lungs are full of water.  The vocal folds just don't work well six hundreds meters below the surface of the ocean.

              Gar looked out across Kaihalulu Bay.  He watched as a barge carrying red dust unloaded onto the famous red beach.

              The zombie boss nodded at his henchmen and they started the long process of hauling his waterlogged friend from the briny depths.

              Gar smoked a big fat Cuban while he waited.  They were hard to get ahold of in Hawaii, but Gar had himself some connections. The Cuban had stopped screaming and struggling a while ago, which was a bit disappointing. Gar believed the agonized writhing helped tenderize the meat. Regardless, he'd make for some tasty jerky.

              Cicero finally breached the surface and began expectorating the Pacific. Gar noted with amusement that something had lodged itself in Cicero's eye. Maybe he'd left him down there too long. Time was tricky when there was no end in sight.

              "Cis, can you tell me why a large group of my best workers have deserted with some douchy swordsman from the mainland?" Gar poked his Cuban with a stick hoping to liven him up a bit. No luck. He sighed and turned back to his good friend.

              Cicero was obviously trying to talk, but his voice had been treated so badly by his helpless screams and the salt water that nothing was coming out.  Gar leaned in closer to look at his most trusted confidant. Cicero's left eye had been replaced by a small crab. In spite of himself the zombie boss started chuckling. It was a horrifying sound. So horrifying, that every time Gar Lich laughed, the nearest small animal exploded. In this case that animal was the crab in Cicero's eye socket.

              Gar stopped laughing and became serious again as he gestured for his goons to untie Cicero.

              "I confess, Cicero, tying your arms to your sides was impolite. Drowning for a month was probably punishment enough without the company of your little friend here." The zombie boss plucked what remained of the crab from Cicero's eye socket and popped it into his mouth. "The question remains, though," Gar crunched on his snack while he spoke. "Where are my zombies?"

              "Mar..." Cicero managed to croak. The Lich leaned in close, trying to make out his friend's slushy words. "Mar… kha… to."

              "Markhato? Zombies are not welcome in Markhato. Why the hell would they go there?"

              "Fugue... paid." Cicero whispered.

              "Paid?! Who
is
this guy? You don't pay zombies. It gives them all sorts of terrible ideas!"

              Cicero managed a shrug before he collapsed. Gar turned to his henchmen.

              "What do you know about this Fugue bozo?"

              The zombies carefully avoided their boss' eyes.

              "Furgue dirdn't erffer ter pay urs, Burss."

              The Lich's eyes narrowed.

              "He didn't offer to pay you?  You mean to tell me you've known about this guy for the last month while Cicero has had a crab eating his eyeball?"

              Both zombies hung their heads in shame. They were too simple to be afraid. Stupid shamblers.

              "Sorry Burss." They muttered together.

              "OK, here's what I want you to do. Tell my captain to get the boat ready. Put Cicero in his quarters and get him comfy. Then dip your heads in some fish buckets and bury yourselves up to your necks on the beach. The seagulls need to be fed."

              The Lich watched his zombies shuffle away. It had been a long time since he last visited Markhato. He needed to find this Fugue jerk and discuss the importance of business ethics. Gar Lich chuckled as he pictured that discussion and its inevitable messy result.

              Down the beach a ways a healthy young woman jogging beside the briny blue was traumatized into a coma when her small dog suddenly exploded.

*   *   *   *   *

              "I can't believe I'm actually saying this, but we need to get the slut's magic back." Cadence watched trees go by out the passenger window.

              "Sweet talk will get you everywhere." Acheron's drowsy voice came from the back seat. Cadence ignored her.

              "I can feel her fading by inches. We can feed her our strength, but not indefinitely. If we don't do something she'll be forced back to hell and you and I will be towed along." The warrior said.

              "She won't be going to hell,” Lyric pointed out. “This isn't like getting stabbed by the banishing blade. We’ll be pulled to judgment. Do you have any ideas for restoring her magic?" Lyric asked.

              "Not from here. On the Verge I could have Oberon tracked down. At which point I  would encourage his cooperation with violence."

              "What Oberon said about you being queen of the Verge, is it true?" Lyric glanced at his companion in the passenger seat.  He had spent more time in her company in the past several months than he spent with most people in his entire life and he still knew virtually nothing about her. It didn't help that until recently she'd been mute.

              Cadence turned sideways in the passenger seat to face the Singer.

              "Yes, I'm the ruler of the Verge."

              "You don't act like a queen.”

              “How does a queen act?”

              “I don't know… fancy?”

              Cadence made a face as she looked down at her preferred outfit; blue jeans, t shirt and an elbow length glove on her left hand. Lyric's soul song healed the scar given to her by Acheron, but she still had the violet streak that ran from her wrist to her hairline.

              “No thanks,” she said, “I don't care for fancy.”

              “Still, why didn't you tell me?” Lyric asked.

              "Why would I?
When
would I? It doesn't change anything. I'm still your Verger and will remain so until we die. I have no interest in being a queen. Besides, how would that conversation go?" Cadence asked with an amused smile.  " 'How crazy was the traffic coming through Kansas City? What do you want to have for lunch? How about salad? Hey, by the way, I'm the queen of a supernatural plain bigger than your entire planet, would you please pass the croutons?' "

              "I don't like croutons," Acheron sounded half asleep in the backseat, "stale bread is for the birds." The demoness started cracking up.

              "Go to sleep, Acheron" Lyric glanced at the demoness in the rear view mirror. She sounded slap-happy and the only sensation coming through their soul tie was exhaustion.

              Cadence shook her head.

              "I don't want to be queen. I've tried to abdicate more than once, but I can't make it stick."

              "Holy balls, you're the reluctant queen!" Acheron shook off her lethargy and sat upright.

              Lyric glanced in confusion at the Verger.

              "That's one of the things they call me." She admitted reluctantly.

              "Everybody
hates
you!" Acheron said enthusiastically.  "I haven't heard of you in years. Where have you been?"

              "Traveling," Cadence gave no indication she was put out by Acheron's assessment of her popularity. "If I'm going to be forced to rule, I have to be hands-on among the Vergers.  I can't force myself to stay in that stupid palace."

              "I can't believe I didn't recognize you, you
suck
!" Acheron punched Cadence in the shoulder jubilantly.

              "What am I missing?" Lyric asked.

              "Li'l miss ass Kicker here is responsible for any semblance of decency there is on the Verge." Acheron was positively gleeful. "She's the reluctant queen, the giant who insists on justice. Every demon, every Djinn, most Faerie and better than half of everyone else hates her. Anyone who opposes her law is welcome to face her in one on one combat.  No one has ever beaten her. She's the only being in existence to have fought Levi to a draw." Acheron sighed happily and sat back. "That makes me feel better about our tussles."

              "Levi?" Lyric frowned at the name.

              "One of the Nychta Polemistis, he's the Power of Fear. We ignited Pompeii together,” she sighed again, “good times.”

              Lyric turned his attention back to Cadence.

              "Why are you queen if you don't want to be?"

              "Michael, my mentor, gave me the crown when I arrived on the Verge. He said I can step down the day someone can take it from me, or when someone can pull me from the Verge.”

              “Why not throw a fight?” The Singer asked. “You know, fall down, drop your crown, easy peasy.”

              “I'm the Standard. I can't throw a fight.”

              “Colonel Avery said you were a member of the Standard when we were in Markhato.” Lyric recalled, “I’d forgotten at the time, but I
have
heard of it. It's a private bodyguard outfit for high-ranking supernaturals. I searched for a baby unicorn born in Canada with a werewolf whose pack brother trained with them.”

              “I'm not a
member
of the Standard, I
am
the Standard. It's the title Michael gave me long before he made me queen. I'm the standard every warrior is measured against.”

              Lyric stared at Cadence long and hard. So much so that the car began to drift.

              “Watch the road!” Cadence said mildly.

              “You have this huge reputation and responsibility. Why would you choose to tie to me?" Lyric asked quizzically.

              Cadence's smile was beautiful.

              "Not every Verger can hear every soul song.  I've never heard or seen a soul song before. As soon as I heard yours I knew this was my chance. Then the whore arrived and screwed things up." Cadence jerked her head toward Acheron.

              "There you go again... flirting." Acheron yawned.

              Cadence rolled her eyes and Lyric chuckled.

              "Regardless, I've never felt like a queen and I don't miss it even slightly. So, let's get back to retrieving the skank's magic from Oberon."

              "Any ideas?"

              "Not really, I'm awfully limited on earth, and I can't travel to the Verge at will like some can."

              "Acheron, what do you think?" Lyric looked at the demoness in the rearview mirror.

              "I think being tied to you has proven to be exceptionally bad for my health. Believe me, if I knew how to get my magic back from that stupid fairy you'd be the first to know."

              Lyric spared another wondering glance at Cadence before he focused on the road.