Half-Demon's Fortune

by Lina J. Potter

  Her mouth opened in a perfect “O.”

  “What do—”

  “Innis, dearie, have you noticed how different you look from your father and brother?”

  “I take after my mom.”

  “That’s what I want to check.”

  “You...you think that my mother...”

  “I don’t know, but I intend to find out. By the way, if Sidon Andago’s not your father, you can petition for the royal guardianship, and nobody could marry you off without the king’s approval.”

  “But?”

  “Should there be a ‘but’?” I mocked her. “You girls are so distrustful. Crazy!”

  Her answer was hissing and a small punch to my ribs. Hey, I’m a terrible demon, mind you! You ought to be afraid!

  “You’ve said it yourself—nothing’s ever unambiguous with demons.”

  How insolent! She remembered that I was a demon, but didn’t get the memo that she shouldn’t attack me. What is the world coming to?

  “The king can marry you off himself, of course. You must understand this; a landed countess is a tasty morsel. And it’s hard to argue with a king, they could handle even me. The Church...”

  Going by the curse that mentioned royal indigestion after consuming templars, Innis didn’t like that prospect.

  “So, what are we to do, Alex?”

  “We’ll see. For instance, if your father becomes incapacitated, you could keep it secret. He will lie in his chambers, attended by trusted servants, and you’ll be left alone. You could choose a husband for yourself, free to live your life.”

  The girl shivered.

  “He’s still my father...”

  “We’ll check that.”

  “Where are you going?”

  “I’m searching. Do your servants feel uneasy in this place?”

  “Very. But I’m mostly fine.”

  “That’s because you’re an Andago, blood matters. I wouldn’t be surprised if your ancestor built this castle not just on demon bones, but infused the stones with blood.”

  “But the Church...”

  “It didn’t stop you.”

  Innis grew silent. She grasped my hand, clutching the candle with her other one. The flame flickered and trembled, serving mostly to highlight the darkness rather than dissipate it. I didn’t care much, I could see anyway.

  “Alex...”

  The smell of wormwood became even stronger. We were almost there.

  “Yes?”

  “Even if I’m not Sidon’s daughter, I will never admit that publicly.”

  “Why?”

  “Because it would ruin my mother’s memory...”

  No need for further explanations.

  “Sorry. I’m an idiot.”

  “I guess demons don’t have such problems,” Innis said with a sigh. “But...even if I never reveal the truth, I should know it.”

  Good girl. I carefully squeezed her thin hand.

  “You and I will know the truth. That will be enough.”

  The passage ended with a wall, solid stone, by the look of it, made of huge dark blocks. I couldn’t see any way through, but I didn’t let that stop me. It was the exact source of the familiar smell. Slowly, I touched the wall with my hand and opened myself to it.

  How can I describe that feeling? It’s like in your childhood when you’re running over a field of flowers, trying to race the wind. You’re smiling, the sun is shining, not a dark thought in your mind. Yep, exactly like that. That’s what you feel when you let your power inside yourself. A warm, soft wave came over me.

  Death. Is it mold, dust, and decay? Not at all. It is peace, comfort, and a black bottomless lake, a perfect place to rest and catch your breath. A wave of power drowned me, and when my mind was at last empty, I glided forward. I became that wave.

  I reached the wall, rolling against it, entering the smallest recesses in the rock, and saw what was beneath them. The wave had no limits. And if so...

  I rolled back, enveloping Innis...yes, that was true.

  She was an air mage, and far from the weakest one. Her magic was simply tied to her age. After she turned twenty, maybe twenty-five, her gift would finally awaken. Maybe even earlier, but only provided she suffered a trauma.

  I was right. She hadn’t been the one to call me here. Her power had been barely enough to open the door. At best, she would have gotten some half-mindless creature, or maybe a demonic beast. It was I who had used her ritual to get out of the inter-dimensional abyss.

  Innis was worried. She sensed my magic, knew that I was affecting her somehow, and it bothered her. It’s all right, girl, I’ve already stopped. There you go...

  I opened my eyes only for Innis to sink her gaze into them.

  “Alex?”

  “Everything’s fine, dearie. Give me your hand.”

  “Y-yes.”

  “I’ve found the entrance, but I need your blood. You’re an Andago, after all.”

  Innis gave me her right hand, her long fingers twitching slightly.

  “Sorry.”

  I cut her palm with my claw. She hissed through clenched teeth, but didn’t even try to pull her hand back. Just like that. Now I had to press her hand against the wall, where a cloud of power akin to mine was emanating warmth. Not quite in front of us, a bit to the side.

  “By kindred blood...”

  I didn’t have to spell it out. The door opened without making a sound. A part of the wall slid away, quiet as a grave. The air coming out of the opened passage reeked of wormwood. It felt like home.

  Innis was shaking like a leaf, and I touched her black hair. It was soft, despite looking coarse.

  “Don’t be nervous. It’s fine.”

  She answered by jerking her head up. She was scared, of course, but she would never show it.

  I was the first to go inside. It was definitely a necromancer’s abode. He had lived there, worked there, summoned and cast spells, anchored circles with his blood—apparently, that wasn’t only Alethar Radenor’s custom. Had they known each other back in the day?

  Necromancers had only begun being persecuted in the last century or so. Before that, it had been a fairly respected profession, no worse than any other type of magic. It’s not the tool that matters, but the use, after all. A fire mage could wreak a lot of havoc if they wished. Was a fiery tornado any better than the living dead? If you wanted, you could adapt anything to evil.

  Oh, there it is!

  “May I?”

  I took Innis’ candle and lit the torches.

  “By the Bright!” the girl couldn’t help but swear. She had a good reason.

  The laboratory wasn’t especially big, maybe forty steps long and just as wide, but it was crammed full of so much stuff! Bookshelves were placed along one wall—clearly not light reading, and closets with various trinkets stood on the opposite side. The third wall contained a few embedded manacles and not the ordinary kind. There were also whips, chains, and lashes hanging there...

  What the hell are you thinking about? Perversions? What perversions? You can’t strike a bargain with some demons without a good whip. Torches, circles, pentagrams—everything ready for a ritual. A heavy table stood in the corner.

  The definition of coziness for someone like me. What about Innis?

  I looked around, expecting her to be about to faint. Fat chance! The girl was staring at the books, her eyes full of admiration.

  “That’s...that is...”

  “Yes. And you can read it, too,” I informed her. “But I don’t recommend putting the stuff inside into practice, it could be risky.”

  Innis shook her head.

  “Summoning you was enough for me. Anything more, and...but it’s so interesting!”

  It was interesting to me as well. I longed to delve into the books, but before that...

  “Do you mind if I talk to someone?”

  “No. To whom? And how?”

  “I have my ways. May I?”

  “I won’t bother you.”


  And she stepped aside. Nobles.

  I had already taken notice of a mirror on the table. It was small, but clearly a proper one, from the old times. Such mirrors were cast using ash, making them susceptible to a necromancer’s will. They could show whatever the necromancer wanted and obeyed their commands. But that was long ago. Over the last century, such craftsmen had become extinct, even if Rene had told me a bit about them.

  I touched the plain copper frame with the tips of my fingers. It radiated a familiar warmth as if I had just pet a puppy. It had gotten so lonely after lying here all these years.

  The mirror? Lonely? Yep, exactly. During the casting process, the craftsmen didn’t just add ash—they also infused it with magic. Those mirrors allowed people to communicate with each other and also do something that I really wanted to do.

  I laid my hand on the glass and felt a sharp spike pierce my skin. The mirror started drinking my blood; it was hungry.

  Anybody else really shouldn’t be using it. I was a necromancer; I knew what to expect and could deal with such an item. If anybody else, like Innis, were in my place... And where is she, by the way?

  I didn’t have to worry about the girl. Innis was standing near the bookshelves and seemed completely detached from the world. She wouldn’t drop that scroll even if I dropped those bookshelves on top of her.

  I would have loved to join her, but Martha came first.

  I hope everything works out.

  The next minute, I breathed out in relief. Martha was safe and sound, even if somewhat disheveled. She clearly wasn’t wanting for anything, like food or water, and as for the rest...well, while planning hideouts, even great necromancers sometimes forget about simple things like combs—both Alethar Radenor and me.

  Martha was sitting in a dungeon in my secret chambers, calm and pleased, a warm cloak wrapped around her and a dark snake coiled next to her feet, the spirit of the palace.

  It was only then that I realized how worried I had been about my second mother. If anything had happened... I might kill the bastards at fault ten times over, but who would return her to me? Fine, if Martha was still alive, I would be merciful. I wouldn’t quarter them; I would just hang them by their feet.

  In the meantime, Martha clearly sensed something, turned her head right, then left...

  “Alex?”

  “Yes, it’s me. Are you all right?

  I was barely moving my lips, but she definitely heard me, as she ran her hand over her hair and all of a sudden, broke down in tears.

  It had been a while since I had felt myself that stupid. Still, Martha didn’t cry for long. She raised her head high.

  “Alex, boy, yer alive!”

  And there was so much love and happiness in her voice. She didn’t care about herself at all, the main thing was my safety. I couldn’t help but blurt out, from the bottom of my heart, “Mother…”

  Truly, the mother is not the one who gave birth.

  “I was so scared for ye. After we spoke, I ran off here, yer snake led me. Everything’s quiet, but the ghosts are all afraid. Lots of templars in the palace, all tip-toeing ‘round yer wifey. Methinks, ‘twas the bitched viper who started all this, mark me word!”

  “Mother, but where’s Tommy? Rene?”

  “Tommy’s on the lam, he’s taking his wife to Rick. Rene and his pa high-tailed, too. Probably hiding somewhere, ‘lest they lose their knobs in the heat.”

  “Did somebody get—”

  “Yep. The treasurer, the chamberlain..”

  Martha started listing names, and I could barely contain my fury. Those swine! They were destroying those whom I had spent so much time and effort finding and appointing! It had taken me several years to pick a team, and in just two days, they were gone... I guess I was too hasty with the hangings. They deserved a breaking wheel.

  “Did anyone manage to flee?”

  “Five people.”

  “Too few. Mother, could you look after the situation via the ghosts? I need to know the details.”

  “Quite.”

  “Do you have everything?”

  “Sweetie, the water’s here, and some of the ghosts can manifest, ye know? They bring me something from the royal kitchen, just the stuff, not the fluff, but to the Tempter with it...”

  “I’ll try to get back as soon as I’m able.”

  “Don’t risk yeself without a good reason! Listen here, Alex, ye’ll need a real army to get to the palace. So much light here ye could choke even in the dungeon. Trust me, I know what those balmy zealots can do better than yeself, yes? Watch out.”

  “I promise, Mother.”

  “I can lay here a year if I hafta, but if anything happens to ye, I’d rather die just here and now.”

  There was not a word of a lie.

  “Then sit it out.”

  When I got back, I would have to arrange a comfortable hideout in the dungeon, So far, there was only a ritual room and a laboratory there, not much to look at. I would build something grand and enchant it with blood to boot.

  “Where are ye now?”

  “In Riolon.”

  “Don’t ye risk too much.”

  “I swear.”

  And with that, I finished our talk and caught my breath.

  That was clearly a serious, well-thought-out plot. They had picked just the right time to bring in the troops, wipe out the undesirables, attempt to assassinate me—not their fault that I survived—and were guarding Dariola. Not bad. After she gave birth, they would make her child into a pocket king—who would sell Radenor to anyone for a handful of gold—or even establish a theocracy.

  The question is, who was the mastermind?

  And the answer...the answer I would have to discover in Riolon. Something told me that my dearest brother-in-law was bound to know something. How about we have a talk?

  That meant that the Andago cousin had to visit the court.

  Meanwhile...

  I touched the mirror once again, making it show me Torrin. Everything seemed peaceful there. All castle residents had already gone to bed. I looked over the bedrooms: Rick, Mira, Rene...the necromancer shuddered as he felt my eyes over him, but I quickly left his room. No need.

  Rudolph’s daughter was also sleeping. Everything was fine. Tommy hadn’t reached Torrin yet, but I knew that he was alive. He was my little brother, after all; we didn’t have the same parents, but we had mixed our blood together, and not for naught.

  I collapsed into the chair and recovered my breath.

  “Alex?”

  Innis was standing behind my shoulder.

  “Yes, cousin?”

  “Are you done?”

  “Have you—”

  Idiot! But what could she have noticed? It was necromancy, not air magic!

  “It was so cold here...”

  I squeezed her palm.

  “Calm down, cousin. Everything will be all right, I promise. So, how about we find out if Sidon Andago is your father?”

  Innis nodded in agreement.

  Hmm. The hairs indicated that they were related. So, Sidon was Innis’ father, even if nobody would think that by looking at them.

  “That’s not bad,” Innis, red with worry, smiled, and that smile made something inside me tighten. “I am a legitimate child born of a legitimate marriage. Nobody would dare to contest my claim...and then, I’m used to being proud of being an Andago. I wouldn’t want to learn that my mother was the first oath-breaker in the family.”

  “There’s one thing I don’t get. How did she get seduced by that moron? Sorry, Innis.”

  She shrugged, amazingly ambivalent.

  “Love is blind, and one could use that. I am of the Andago line, and I hope I would never disappoint either my ancestors or my descendants, but one rotten apple on a tree does not ruin it forever. What else could I do?”

  Gallant, I bowed before the girl and touched her slender fingers with my lips.

  “My Lady, you’re magnificent.”

  “Claws off, you
tailed beast.”

  What the hell?

  A dark wave of necromancy splashed over the room, freezing the corners. Reflexively, I protracted my claws and turned around, ready to repel the attack. But I was wrong.

  A ghost hovered above the pentagram in the very center of the room. He was clearly an Andago, a relative of Innis’. The same black hair, the same features, fragile build...they even had a similar expression.

  To Innis’ credit, she didn’t scream, hide behind my back, or faint. She simply narrowed her eyes, looking at the spirit.

  “Who’s this?”

  “Your ancestor, I presume.”

  “Really?”

  Carefully, Innis stepped forward, almost next to the ghost. She examined him.

  “He does look similar. Are you Finn Andago?”

  “No. I’m his son, Tidann.”

  Her mouth widened.

  “But you were a life mage! A healer!”

  The man laughed, his laugh pure and sincere.

  “Granddaughter, think about it—who could be a better healer than a necromancer? I could have chased death away from everyone, and recovering was just a matter of time. Two sides of the same coin, really. Death is scary, but flip the coin, and you’ll get life.”

  “What are you doing here?”

  Innis didn’t care about lofty phrases; she was far too practical for that.

  “And you? You are...yes, an air mage.” The ghost looked at her closely. “Only necromancy can awaken me, and not the weakest kind.”

  I made a mocking bow.

  “At your service.”

  The ghost examined me. It felt as if somebody was going over me with a feathered duster.

  “What have we here...a half-demon.”

  “Half!” Innis was surprised.

  “I really am half-blood, but it shouldn’t affect our deal.”

  “Tell me more.”

  Even death didn’t bereave the ghost of his commanding tone. I let Innis talk. I could have banished him, but decided to let him linger; he was the girl’s kin, after all.

  Tidann Andago easily highlighted all the discrepancies in her tale and looked at me, a question on his face. Behind my back, I gestured to Innis, letting her know that I would explain everything later. She acquiesced.

  “So Rinna got caught, after all.”

  “Caught?”