Half-Demon's Fortune

by Lina J. Potter

  Sidon Andago put a napkin down.

  “You’re getting too sassy for your own good, girl.”

  “What else can I do, Father,” Innis said mockingly, “if you don’t fulfill your obligations? Alex was right. You should have long since driven me to court and found a fiancé for me. Not that stubby little runt who’s dreaming of disappearing somewhere, but a man who could help me rule Andago...and not support the greedy Morales family with our money. Or did you think I had no idea what part of our income goes into the pockets of those locusts?”

  “Shut up!”

  Sidon took a swing at his daughter, but she hadn’t been scared of him in the first place, and with my help...

  The man’s hand froze in the air as I caught his blow with just two fingers.

  “I will tear it out—pull it up by the root.”

  My tone was low, threatening, with demonic undertones, and Sidon turned pale. He lowered his head and almost ran out of the room, while I looked over the present company.

  “Milady, allow me to escort you to your chambers. I believe the public is unworthy of our presence here.”

  “Guards!” Amorta shrieked. I grinned and took a heavy silver knife from the table.

  “Dear madam, haven’t you realized anything about Andago blood?”

  Actually, silver is a soft metal. It’s hard to force into something else, but I was strong enough. The most important thing was to throw the knife with maximum force. It stuck into the wall by half of its blade.

  We left as the others followed us with their eyes, silent and dumbfounded. By the afternoon, Amorta’s relatives had packed up and left Andago. Good. It is easier to remove the whole nest than to pick them out one by one.

  ***

  After nightfall, I led Innis to the dungeon. Tidann nodded, letting me know he would keep an eye on her, and I summoned Ak-kvir.

  To Innis’ credit, she didn’t scream, faint, or ask to “pet the dog.” She just sat and watched.

  Ak-kvir sneered, his fangs bared in the dim light.

  “Is that your mate?”

  “She’s under my protection.” Innis blushed, but I had no time for her inner turmoil. “How do you feel about warlocks?”

  “I haven’t tasted them yet.”

  “I can give you a chance to try them.”

  Ak-kvir started to speak the standard oath. I won’t harm you, I will leave as soon as you command... Innis listened carefully, clearly realizing that her knowledge of necromancy was patchy. Tiddan whispered to her quietly that those vows were mandatory to save your own skin. Whether the demon and you knew each other or not, he should never be trusted, or you could become his prey one day.

  Finally, I released Ak-kvir from the circle and he offered me his back, obedient. We headed to the Morales estate.

  The road there passed swiftly and peacefully. Clarice and Riphar needed a few hours to get there; we needed only ten minutes. Ak-kvir pierced the distance, catching the fabric of reality with his claws. He might not be the strongest of demons, but he was really useful.

  The house was well-lit, yet no lights could mask its aura. It was dark indeed; as a necromancer, I would have to do much worse to reach that blackness: kill, rape, betray people...

  But the inhabitants had developed a taste for that. Ak-kvir, now moving much more slowly, circled around the house, hiding in the shadows, sniffing.

  I observed the estate. It was a depressing sight. At least two strong female warlocks, a few summoned demons—not the strongest, but nasty enough. If I tried a direct attack, I could end up seriously injured, if not dead. I could not allow it, as I had Innis to take care of, not to mention a takeover in Radenor.

  Ak-kvir smirked.

  “I can deal with the humans myself, necromancer.”

  “How many are there?”

  “A score.”

  “Any children?”

  “Two.”

  “Don’t eat the children.”

  “What if they’ve already tainted themselves?”

  I considered his words. I did feel pity for the children, yet on the other hand, a viper could never bear a kitten. If the child had taken part in a warlock ritual at least once...

  Killing them would be a mercy, trust me.

  “Then they are yours.”

  “Thank you.”

  Ak-kvir moved aside, and I proceeded to draw protective lines, and not only protective. I wouldn’t want to take on the entire estate. Let their own victims take care of them first.

  Yes, there were victims. Necromancy didn’t always mean human sacrifices, even if demons were fond of them. I could, however, feed them my own power, and it was almost as tasty.

  Warlock magic, however... What can a warlock offer a demon?

  Only a sacrifice, ideally tortured to death, so it would grant more power. If Amorta was a second-generation warlock, at the very least, then imagine how many people that family had put to death.

  Do you still feel pity for the poor Moraleses? That’s right. Believe me, they wouldn’t feel sorry for you. I could, but not them. One takes quickly to borrowed power paid for in strangers’ blood.

  ***

  When, oh when will I stop being so willfully overconfident?

  When will I start thinking with my head and not my other parts?

  When will I get enough hammerings to hammer some reason into my head?

  And everything started out so well...

  I expected that after the restless souls attacked them all at once, the Moraleses would have no choice but to flee like cockroaches, and I would pick them off one by one.

  Dream on, Alex.

  Nobody fled anywhere. At first, it seemed all right. I drew the circle and the glyphs, stood in the center, while Ak-kvir stayed at a distance. I said the words of the summoning, and the ghosts came in flocks.

  There were so many of them: not a horror, but a true nightmare; two hundred, if not more. When they surrounded me, staring at me with their haunted eyes, I felt uneasy. I was used to raising my ghosts one or two at a time, not a hundred.

  Still, I pulled myself together and commanded them to attack the house at once.

  They rushed, swarming...and all of a sudden, everything stopped.

  No screams, no shrieks. Tense, I started to hurriedly raise my defenses—necromancers had lots of shields in their arsenal, but setting all of them took time. I drew new protective glyphs...and there it was, the knockback. A wave of such pure hate emanated from the house that I felt as if I were a young boy who barely knew magic. Hate, as you know, can materialize. Hate can kill.

  It didn’t kill me, but it did manage to daze me for a time. My eyes went blank, I got dizzy, and if not for Ak-kvir, I would probably have stayed there, turning from a necromancer into a corpse.

  Having realized that after executing me, he would be next and that my death could bind him to the world of humans for eternity, Ak-kvir caught me by the collar with his teeth and threw me on his back like a wolf grabs a sheep. Then he ran like hell from the danger zone.

  Even he wasn’t left unharmed. Warlock magic is like that; nothing good ever comes out of it, even if you think that it could benefit you. Sooner or later, everyone pays the price.

  With that thought, I passed out on Ak-kvir’s back, hit by the second wave of hate.

  I woke up in a forest clearing not far from the Andago castle. Ak-kvir was sitting next to me and watching.

  “Will you eat me?”

  I wouldn’t be surprised if he was waiting for me to regain my senses to get a better taste—pain, anger, and fear made the treat all the more delicious—but the demon only snorted.

  “You’d either poison me or get stuck in my throat.”

  “That’s why I’m still alive?”

  “Oh, no. You’ve promised me such a feast today...”

  I sat down, shaking my head.

  “I have, haven’t I? But I’m afraid that I will have to remain in your debt.”

  “You’ll pay me back thrice as
much.”

  “Sixty people? Won’t you explode from that?”

  “Then I’ll die a happy demon. So what?”

  “Whatever. I promise you will get your sixty corpses.”

  Riolonians, from the city gutters, by default. There was a way to rig the oath game, after all. Ak-kvir looked at me, scoffing.

  “Send me home, necromancer. You don’t need me to return.”

  I rubbed my temples. My power had retreated to the recesses of my consciousness, but I still had enough for Ak-kvir.

  “I release you.” And before the vortex started swirling, I softly added, “Thank you.”

  Ak-kvir grinned—a scary sight—and stepped into the portal, vanishing into thin air. I would have to summon him soon and feed him. But first, I needed to gather my wits, limp toward the secret passage, catch my breath, and reach my chambers—if I didn’t die on the way there, that is.

  Gods, why do I feel so sick?

  Upon seeing a defeated hero, Innis clutched her head and promptly sprang into action. She got me into bed, brought wine and lots of treats, and sat next to me. In her place, I would have been curious too, so I answered her question before she even asked.

  “It didn’t work out.”

  “Why not?”

  Innis was clearly upset. I wondered if she realized that I had been trying to kill people.

  The next question got my doubts cleared.

  “I thought you were going to deal with them today.”

  “Me, too. I guess I overestimated my power.”

  “What did you run into?” She was intrigued.

  I closed my eyes and focused.

  “Innis, I suspect there’s an unholy altar in their house.”

  “WHAT!”

  “Yes. I was planning to summon all the dead inside, sic them on the warlocks, and wait for them to run away in fear.”

  “And why would they?”

  “Trust me, if a swarm of ghosts attacked you, you wouldn’t just run away, you’d fly.”

  Innis shuddered.

  “Yeah. Tidann might be family, but I feel so cold when I’m next to him.”

  “Well, he’s a ghost and a mage, that’s big. But in that house, there were two hundred spirits.”

  “TWO HUNDRED?”

  “Yes. I didn’t count, but no fewer than that.”

  “That’s how many people they killed?”

  “I suppose.”

  “But how? And when?”

  “Innie, when did the Morales family arrive here?”

  “Before my birth, definitely. Twenty years before, I think. They came here, bought a house, some land...”

  “What exactly do you know about them? Any facts?”

  Innis considered my question for a few minutes and looked up, surprise clear in her black eyes.

  “Nothing, really. A noble family, not especially rich. They seemed respectable enough... That’s it.”

  “Awesome! Nobody knows anything, but everybody likes them, right?”

  “Something like that.”

  “Innie, when I sent ghosts after them, I expected them to react. But the reaction was...peculiar.”

  “What do you mean?”

  I shuddered as I remembered it.

  Hate. Almost tangible, icy, bone-chilling hate pouring from the house like water from a drill hole, flowing in a stream, freezing the joints, sinking into your soul, taking your breath away, making you feel small and insignificant...

  I am a half-demon, a necromancer, and that’s why I survived almost unharmed. If I were human...

  There was another thing, though, even worse than that hate. The creature in the house devoured human souls, the very ones I had sent after him. I had raised them with my own power and my own will, and their final death hurt me and me specifically.

  It was a miracle I got away so easily.

  “There’s a supreme demon there, or an even stronger one.”

  “But how?”

  “A good question. I don’t know. But I’m sure that something’s inside that house. He was summoned, fed...”

  “With people? Human sacrifices?”

  “Yes.”

  “And nobody ever noticed?”

  “They probably used vagabonds, lowlifes, random travelers, merchants without a lot of guards.”

  Innis hissed something, gritting her teeth. I tried to dissect my feelings once more. I hadn’t sensed anything like that even in Argadon’s presence. On the other hand, he hadn’t tried to overwhelm me, unlike the present case.

  That creature, whatever it was, knew that I attacked it, and answered by releasing its power. What next, then?

  It was no fool, and soon, it would start looking for the attacker...and it would find me. The only weapon I had was the ghost of Tidann Andago, and he wasn’t especially warlike. I also had Innis who would surely get hurt if I clashed with the creature. I didn’t give a damn about anybody else. And then there was Amorta, who would get in on the act. She was bound to realize that the arrival of Innis’ cousin and somebody attacking her family’s pet demon were related.

  I would have to protect myself. But how? Charge at the demon with my bare hands? No dice. I gave out a dirty laugh.

  “Innie, sweetie, do we have paper and some ink?”

  “Of course. What are you going to do?”

  “Write letters.”

  “To whom? Aren’t you a—”

  “To the Church, of course.”

  The girl fluttered her eyelashes. The idea was actually pretty straightforward. I wasn’t sure if I could handle the demon myself, even if I summoned Argadon, which would have to be tomorrow. I hadn’t thought to ask Ak-kvir who my opponent was, so I would question my father, find a way to fight back... But what will happen after that?

  As soon as I ran out of power, I would become a sitting duck for the first templar that came by—and there would be a whole pack of them. They wouldn’t even need to make an effort.

  Yet I still had things to take care of at home, I had no desire to remain in Riolon forever, especially in the Church dungeon. No, thanks.

  “Will they respond?”

  I considered her words. She might have been right. Such a nest right under the templars’ nose? The locals must have been in the mix. Where to then?

  “Innie, tomorrow, we’re leaving for the capital.”

  “Father won’t let me go.”

  “He won’t know. We’ll leave in secret.”

  “But Alex...”

  “Do you want to be caught on the way there and forced to marry, or maybe fed to that creature? I wouldn’t if I were you.”

  Innis bit her lower lip. Such a charming gesture... Stop! Don’t even think about it! She’s barely a woman, and you’re married, you idiot! Have you lost your mind?

  “I don’t have any money or—”

  “I’ll figure it out when we arrive.”

  “Also, if I spend the night on the road with a man...”

  “Even a cousin?”

  Aw, shucks! I hadn’t thought about that idiotic assumption that a woman could only spend time with a man to fornicate and nothing else, in all positions. Even on the road, even while atop a horse—that only meant that the horse had contributed to the debauchery. Do they judge by themselves?

  “Yes, even a cousin.”

  “Just one night? We won’t need longer!”

  “Alex, if someone finds out...”

  “I will kill them.”

  “But you can’t kill gossip.”

  Innis’ large eyes filled with tears. Frustrating, but it was important to her. Really, what would she do if her reputation was ruined?

  “What about a female cousin?”

  “W-who?”

  “Me, of course!”

  Innis looked at my long hair (I hadn’t cut my braid off even after becoming king) and my hands, lying on top of the blanket, and finally realized it.

  “So...you’re my cousin Alexandra?”

  “Exactly. Of course, the poor g
irl is quite manlike, but...that’s the will of the Bright, I guess!”

  Innis snickered in her sleeve.

  “Can you wear a dress?”

  “No. But I’ll try to learn.”

  Innis laughed, covering her mouth with her hand so as not to attract attention.

  “Oh, Alex... You, in a dress? I’d pay to see it!”

  “You’ll see it, and you’ll play along. It’s not like we have a choice.”

  Tidann approved of our decision, promised to look after the castle, and insisted that we leave first thing in the morning. He knew how dangerous warlocks could be and didn’t want to risk the safety of the last of Andago.

  ***

  I had no idea how women could walk in those potato sacks. I had no idea why they hadn’t revolted yet.

  In any case, I was all but ready to revolt, and very soon. Dresses, as it turned out, were an actual torture device, even without a corset and half of the required underskirts. Crazy!

  To add insult to injury, the little brat was giggling.

  She was used to that, after all. She had even obtained a dress big enough for me. All right, then. Together, we pulled it on me, added some lining in the strategic spots, tightened the belt so I could barely breathe—apparently, that was considered loose—and put a veiled hat on my head. While I did have hair long enough to fit the image, my face would never look feminine enough, no matter how much makeup I used. The only item of my own left was my boots. We packed the bare essentials in the bags, carried them beyond the castle walls, and abandoned them there for the time being. After breakfast, Innis said that she wanted to go for a ride and left. I was waiting for her in the grove, having already summoned Ak-kvir.

  Innis didn’t shriek, scream, faint, or try to throw something heavy at Ak-kvir, even if I did have to pretty much shove her onto the back of the demon, who was grumbling something about stupid human females. Are demonesses smarter?

  When the demon broke into a run, Innis grabbed on to me rightly, hid her face on my chest, and refused to look forward. She was still so young, despite all of her strength, bravery, or smarts.

  Yes, demons hate daylight. We didn’t really have any other options, however. We needed to get to the capital as soon as possible, and horses were just too slow.