“Then you’ll have to get an audience with the king. Innis, how much do you care about your fiancé?”
“I don’t want him to be killed,” the girl confessed.
I shrugged.
“I promise I won’t kill him, just for you.”
Although I would rather kill him, it would be mercy. Innis clearly suspected as much, but she chose not to elaborate.
“You will release me from my marriage, preferably without any blood spilled.”
“And without harming you. See, if you die, the label on your tomb will say ‘Here rests Countess Andago.’ And you won’t get married, either.”
Innis’ eyes widened.
“You—”
“If I wanted to kill you, I wouldn’t warn you, would I?”
Innis breathed out in relief.
“I haven’t done this before...”
“I know. That’s why I’m telling you this.”
“You—”
“I swear not to do you any harm.” I was calm when I said the oath. I liked Innis, I didn’t want to ever raise my hand against her, but out of a necromancer’s old habit, I added, “Unless you harm me first.”
Innis snorted.
“Harm you? You’re a demon!”
“So what? Maybe I’m all soft and fluffy on the inside.”
A smile appeared on her face.
“Maybe. So?”
“I shall help you escape marriage and become lawfully recognized as Countess Andago. I swear it.”
“On your blood?”
I reached out with my hand, making a fist, and blood dripped on the floor from my claws.
“I swear it.”
The girl stared at me, all thoughtful and serious.
“I accept your oath, Alex.”
“Will you let me out?”
Yes, I could have done that myself, but why would I disappoint the girl?
Innis nodded and erased the chalk outline with the tip of her shoe.
“Welcome.”
In a leap, I was next to her and bowed.
“Thank you, oh fair lady. May I change my form?”
“Can you?”
I nodded and switched to my human shape. Innis squealed and turned away. Oh. I completely forgot that they had surprised me when I had been in bed, au naturale.
“Sorry.”
A short lady’s cloak flew toward me, I grabbed it and wrapped it around my waist.
“You can turn back now. Are there any men’s clothes around here?”
Innis turned back, examined me, and reached the verdict, “Oh, you’re cute.”
“Didn’t you like me with a tail?”
She blushed, and I coughed sheepishly.
“Sorry, all right?”
“Keep your demon jokes to yourself,” she said, looking at me all haughty and arrogant. She was trying her hardest, even if she wasn’t doing a good job. “I do have clothes, in my chambers.”
“Let’s go there, shall we?”
“Fine. But first...”
Ah, the clean-up, the worst thing in my magical experiments.
I crawled around, erasing the chalk outline, while Innis gathered the candles. I had a lot to process.
That had been a classic assassination attempt, and it probably hadn’t been isolated. If there was a plot, it would be far-reaching and complex. The templars would kill me, and their candidate would invade the capital, sit on the throne, and so on. The thing was, he couldn’t. He would burn; there had been an example not that long ago. Therefore, they had somebody of royal blood.
Who, then? The choices weren’t too numerous. Rudolph’s daughter had been in Torrin only a month ago, and stealing her away from Rick would be an insurmountable task. They couldn’t even take me from there back in the day. They also hadn’t been draining me of blood, I would have noticed that. So, who has been silent about her pregnancy, hmm?
That’s right. Call me a half-angel if my wife wasn’t in on the plot. The conclusion was simple. I shouldn’t be in a hurry to get back to the capital. I would have to wait for them to crawl out into the light and only then crush them. Not to mention that I was in Riolon; that was a good opportunity to check how involved my dearest neighbors were in that scheme.
Of course, Dariola could have contacted the Church directly, but I found that hard to believe. It was far more likely that Darius had helped his sister.
I was probably the one to blame for what had happened. I married for duty, lived with her for duty, and forgot that both meant people. Real people, who couldn’t be forced into neat tables and graphs, people who should be studied and taught, just the way my teachers had done with me. I, however, never paid any attention or thought to Dariola, and now, I had to pay, the quick and hard way.
A lesson? It was, and a good one...if I was the only one who got it. And there was another lesson, too: my carelessness could come at a high cost to those closest to me, and I couldn’t help them in any way. I was too far away, even ghosts couldn’t get there. My family had only themselves left.
Why hadn’t I thought about their safety before? Why hadn’t I taken precautions? I would never forgive myself if something happened to Rene, Tommy, and Martha.
What a careless smug imbecile.
***
I had two options: either promptly summon Ak-kvir and get to the capital, wherein I would clean up the mess, but the schemers would have time to get away, that was as clear as day.
The other option...
Fine, you’ve gotten rid of the rightful king. Now what?
Oops. Well, you can sit on the throne of Radenor, you would even stay there...for like twenty seconds. After that, prepare a dust tray and a broom. No need for a coffin, the remains could be poured over a flowerbed in the palace garden.
If I held off my return, I would get the chance to reveal the plotters. But what about my family?
Well, that was a moot question. If I were a plotter, I would first kill the king—me—and then, if everything worked out well, switch to his entourage. Yet, I suspected that no templars had survived. Generally, I was a nice guy, but they had managed to really piss me off. I still had some time before they would attack Martha, Tommy, Rene, Dariola...
Although, why would they attack Dariola?
Her child was the only possible heir, other than Carlie’s daughter, but they hadn’t gotten to her or I would have known. That meant that they would have to keep my wife safe.
I still had to warn Martha, however. How exactly, you may ask? Necromancers have their ways.
I looked at Innis. Fine, it’s not like you should trust me more than right now. So...
I got closer to her and touched her neck right below her thick black strands of hair. Without making a sound, the girl collapsed on the floor. Later, I would tell her that she got dizzy and fainted. I picked up a candle-end, pricked my finger with Innis’s dagger, never even flinching, and touched the wick to light the fire.
“Blood to blood, flame to flame, ash to ash, dead to alive...”
The old spell streamed down from my tongue, and power obediently curled around me like a big black snake.
I was calling. Martha wasn’t my blood kin, but she was my kin in magic. She was a necromancer, she loved me, and she always carried around a part of me, a lock of hair.
Far away...she was so far away, but finally, I felt a response on the other side. It wasn’t enough to relay a message, but enough to imprint a feeling upon her consciousness.
Danger! Run! Hide!
My urging reached her, I knew that—and it calmed me down. Martha could take care of herself, and of Tommy, too. Rene? The Morinars had managed to survive under any ruler and in any circumstances. As for the rest...
They wouldn’t touch Dariola, not yet, and I didn’t have anybody else. Well, they could be stupid enough to poke their nose into Torrin, but Rick would handle that, I was sure, as would Rene Ghirr...fish needed food, after all, even if it was humans.
I looked at the girl. I had to
bring her round and sort out the mess I found myself in.
“Wake up, Innis...”
***
Martha opened her eyes in the middle of the night.
Power was singing in her blood, screaming, calling, and that call was impossible to resist. She knew that feeling well and had known for a long time. Once, she had been afraid of it, but then she had met Michelle. Later, she had realized: the power you were given didn’t matter, the point was not to use it for evil. But necromancy...well.
A black snake woven from darkness itself coiled around her feet. It had also felt the call of Alex.
Danger.
Her child was in trouble. Martha knew that she couldn’t help him then in any way except one: lay low, hide, disappear as if she didn’t exist. Where could she find such a place, though? A shelter for a necromancer? A safe haven where nobody could see or sense her...
But the unease in her blood sang louder and louder, turning into a crescendo.
The string strained to the breaking point, shouting, and with her necromancer’s senses, Martha felt death standing right next to her, staring at her, sneering, and rubbing her hands...
No. Not today. I’m not afraid of you, but I won’t leave my child alone. A good mother never would, and I am his mother, even if Michelle was the one to give birth to him. He is hers by blood, mine by spirit. I will come when the time is right, but until then, you will have to wait.
There was no time to get dressed. Coins and jewels—Alex had given entire boxes of them to his mother—flew right into the pockets of a warm cloak worn right on top of a nightgown, Martha snatched her dress, her shoes, her dagger—a ritual weapon that no necromancer could go without—and the snake slithered to a wall. One touch, and the path opened before the owner of the dark gift.
The last thing she did after looking over the room and smirking was cast a curse. Necromancers’ will was strong inside the palace. Thank you, Alethar Radenor, wherever you are.
It was the same curse that Martha had once used on her wannabe rapists. The first spell is like your first love: the best, the easiest, the one that stays with you forever.
Martha vanished into the wall five minutes before they smashed down the door. She couldn’t hear the screams of the four men who were the first to get into her chambers. They writhed in pain and agony, as their eyes dripped from their sockets, their arms and legs wilted, and their skin scabbed.
Nothing personal, really. It’s just that everyone who comes to visit a necromancer with evil intent risks getting the same in return. Had they come with flowers, they very well might have stayed alive.
***
Tommy was blissfully sleeping inside his house with Henrietta nestled against his shoulder, snuffling and smiling in her sleep. But when an ice-cold wave came over them, both had to rise up, their peace disturbed.
That wind was something they could never hide or shield themselves from; it was a death wind, and it brought cold from the grave, making him feel as if he were in a coffin. Even dead men could wake up after feeling something like that...and sometimes, they did.
“What!”
The darkness in the room grew thicker and took on Martha’s shape, smiling with her mouth full of shark teeth.
“It’s me, Tom. Martha.”
Instantly, Tommy was relieved. He had seen that many times before. No big deal, Alex had pulled stunts much worse than that.
When you live with necromancers, do as necromancers do.
“What’s wrong?”
“Treason. Take your wife and hide, I will warn the Morinars, so...try to get to Torrin. You are the most vulnerable of us all.”
“How’s Alex?”
“Alive.”
Tommy breathed out.
“Good. But what if I rouse the guards?”
“Against whom?”
“Got it. Ri, get ready.”
Tommy jumped out of bed. Martha was right. Until nothing was certain, laying low was the best course of action. He should go into hiding and keep a low profile. And then, when everything cleared up...
Tommy was far from all-forgiving, but for the time being, his first thought was his wife. Pregnancy was a wonderful thing, but it was such a burden...
He was also worried about the Morinars.
Tommy had to shake Henrietta a few times before she came to her senses and started packing, but in an hour, wrinkled pillows were the only evidence that someone had ever slept in the bed, and even they had long since grown cold.
***
It took a while for me to rouse Innis, but at last, her dark eyes opened.
“You...demon...”
“Innis, call me Alex, all right?”
The girl considered this for a while. Yeah, she was older than he had thought at first. She had a fine figure and curves in all the right places... Oh, what am I saying? Have I lost my mind? Idiot! I actually have a wife!
And Innis, a concubine? I could seduce her, but she would never be content with that life. She was too good and too smart to play second fiddle, forever and ever. Some called their lovers their favorites, but the point remained. They were whores, no matter how you tried to cover a sheet riddled with holes with a golden blanket.
“Fine, Alex. What happened to me?”
“You spent too much power and fainted.”
“Maybe...but why now?”
“Before, you were running on your worry, but now... By the way, let’s discuss our plans, shall we?”
Innis grabbed my hand. Her fingers were icy cold and trembled a bit.
“What do you mean?”
“Innis, I could kill all your family right this instant, it’s not hard. But there would be an investigation, and you would be the one to get hurt the most.”
Innis pondered my words. Apparently, she hadn’t thought about that.
“But how?”
“Tell me, could someone come to visit you? A guest, or a relative?”
“Well...I do have some maternal relatives...”
“Who?”
“My grandfather had a sister, Annita Andago. She married Baron Belient of Tevarr, and I think they had a son. But we’ve long since lost contact with that branch.”
“Makes sense. All right, I’ll be your second cousin on your mother’s side, Alex Belient.”
“But—”
“I’ll arrive tomorrow morning, don’t be surprised.”
“But how?”
Oh. Should I really take to the highway?
No money, no horse... Of course, I could have raised a dozen undead horses, but... I didn’t even have normal clothes! It’s not like I slept dressed up!
Innis smiled sarcastically. I was more than sure that the brat knew my thoughts.
“Let’s go. We’ll try to think of something.”
***
Inside her chambers, Innis pointed her finger at a chair, looked me over once again, and disappeared behind the door. I made myself comfortable and didn’t waste time, releasing my power into the castle, calling out to spirits, as if I were the center of a thousand-threaded web. I flooded the halls and passages with my gift...and now I knew that what I had suspected was true. The founder of the Andago line was a necromancer, or he had lived there, even if long ago. I sensed it.
The skeleton under the cornerstone of the castle was far from ordinary; it was clearly a lower demon of some kind. Several curses to those who would covet someone else’s belongings were etched on the foundation. Innis didn’t even need to summon me. If her father had tried to take her property, he would have renounced it himself and run away in fear.
Attempting to get a necromancer’s inheritance without having shared blood could result in something dangerous. The going could get tough. The simplest consequence would be ghosts haunting the castle’s corridors, unable to ever be released, and something worse could awaken just as well.
There was clearly magic at work there. A castle built on blood and bones. I liked it. I made a mental note to snoop around it later. A skill
ed necromancer was bound to have a laboratory somewhere; I was sure of it.
And Innis’ great-grandfather was skilled, I had already realized it. No weaker than Rene, definitely. Weaker than me, but that didn’t reflect much. The events had made it clear that brute force couldn’t solve everything.
Some things couldn’t reveal themselves to everyone at any time, but I had power and desire, and Innis, Andago blood. We could combine them.
I looked over her chambers. One would never think they belonged to a young girl.
For instance, Dariola’s chambers were reminiscent of a bonbonniere: pretty bows, frills, ruffs, pictures, and statuettes, all white, pink, and gold, plus a few small dogs which reminded me of big furry roaches.
I never understood those creatures. A dog is supposed to be a beast, and what were those? Muffs with paws?
Innis had nothing of the sort. Everything was plain, neat, and tidy. The parlor’s walls were painted light green, there was a big fireplace, heavy curtains, polished lightwood furniture, and as for baubles, there were none, not even flower vases. Yet a huge crossbow was hanging above the mantelpiece, and it was clearly looked after. The opposite wall contained a few daggers, each of which could be easily taken down and used at any moment. Heavy candle holders, polished wall panels...not a girl’s room. Odd.
And books, loads and loads of books. Some were open, some had bookmarks. Should I flip through? Not yet, I thought. Innis wouldn’t like me snooping in her things; I shared her sentiment.
Oh, there she is, coming in at a brisk pace, holding something in her hands.
“It’s not your father’s, I hope?”
“No. My grandfather’s. Will it fit?”
Well, it’s not like I had any choice. I unfolded the bundle and tried it on. How about that...
“Great work, Innis.”
Instead of smiling, the countess blushed and turned away. Umm...I was a bit too hasty in changing in front of her. Well, no matter. It’s not like I was trying to seduce her, I was just thoughtless. And the clothes were good, too. They smelled of lavender, probably after spending a while inside some chest, but still hadn’t gone out of fashion. Innis—what a good girl—had brought me something in the vein of a hunting outfit.
Half-Demon's Fortune Page 4