Half-Demon's Fortune

by Lina J. Potter

  “Great! And did he say where he learned that?”

  “N-no...”

  No matter; it wasn’t a problem for a necromancer. I wouldn’t do anything today, but the next day, I would summon his spirit and question it. Even death wouldn’t free that bastard from my grasp!

  “I assume you refused him?”

  “Had he proposed to Innis Andio, I might have considered it. But he wanted to marry Countess Andago.”

  “And afterward, he decided to...”

  Innis shuddered.

  “It was so disgusting, you know—that helpless feeling, knowing that he could do whatever he wanted to me and I couldn’t fight it. I wasn’t even a thing; people take care of things. I was just an animal that could be broken, crushed, destroyed, even had to— So I couldn’t think of resisting him.”

  I hissed through my teeth. Fury poured over me in waves. I wanted to return to the park and rip his corpse to shreds, and then do the same to his spirit. But I couldn’t, not yet.

  Dammit, I bit my tongue with my fangs. Idiot! Take hold of yourself, right now! Auntie Madie should never see the real you!

  With some effort, I took control of myself and breathed out.

  “Innis. He’s dead. Nobody will ever hurt you, I swear.”

  The girl brushed an unruly lock of hair away from her nose.

  “It’s fine, Alex. After that... I tried to fight him off, but I knew that I wouldn’t succeed alone. I was afraid of screaming...”

  She was right. We were still in hiding until we’d dealt with the Moraleses and going home for Innis meant certain death.

  “And then, somebody dragged him away from me.”

  “Who?”

  “A woman, a tall blonde, gorgeous, and her eyes...they glowed in the darkness.”

  “What was she wearing?”

  “A scarlet dress, almost burgundy.”

  A blonde in a scarlet dress. I would have to remember that. Too bad I’m not a mind mage; I could learn who that mysterious lady was. Still, Miron will know who killed him.

  “She told me to go and stayed there. I crawled away, little by little, and collapsed. I felt sick. And that’s where you found me.”

  “Did anybody else see you?”

  “I don’t think so.”

  “Great. Drink the wine.”

  Innis took a few more sips.

  “It’s strong.”

  “At least you’ll sleep the night off with no dreams.”

  “And you?

  “I will take a walk around the palace.”

  Auntie Madie gave me a disapproving look. She knew what I was about to undertake. It was too early to get into Miron’s house. Now the next day, after I questioned him... Still, I could visit the park, take a look, eavesdrop—not a challenge for me.

  Auntie followed me as I was leaving.

  “Please sort it out, boy.”

  I squeezed her wrinkled hand.

  “Auntie, look after Innie, will you? She shouldn’t be left alone.”

  “I will sit at her side. Go about your business.”

  I was truly fortunate to have encountered such a good person.

  ***

  I reached the park in twenty minutes without distracting myself even with the local ruffians. They could ruin themselves without my help, anyway.

  The park was in an uproar. The royal palace shined so brightly in the night sky that looking at it hurt my eyes. Have they found him already?

  By all accounts, they had. Going in was out of the question; it was tantamount to suicide, as was casting necromantic spells nearby. There was a veritable swarm of templars; the area was teeming with them as if they were maggots.

  As soon as I made a move, they would find me and kill me. Sorry, guys; I’m not here, and I never was.

  I turned on my heels and went home.

  “Where are you going, you pretty thing?”

  Seriously? Apparently, my plan not to kill anyone had just gone down the drain. Bright Saint, you do see that they’ve come to me by their own accord, right?

  One by one, dark silhouettes filled the street. There were six in total, just enough to kill them all with one hand.

  “What do you need?” I asked them without trying to play nice.

  “Will you donate a few coppers for some ale for the good sirs?”

  “I’m not a charity,” I snapped. “Go to a temple.”

  The six scumbags exchanged looks, and then, after a few dumb phrases intended to make me lose my balance, separated into two groups. Three flanked me on the right, and three flanked me on the left.

  I wasn’t going to let them surround me, so I darted off. One strike followed another. I would have killed them, but I had a better idea. A knife I knocked out of the bandit’s hand clanged as it hit the pavement. A bone crunched, while a body bounced after hitting a stone wall.

  In a moment, I had four bodies lying around, while two live ruffians were standing and staring at me, their eyes wide. Yeah, they were probably used to another scenario.

  “Was that enough?”

  One of the remaining pair made the wrong choice and started running. A thrown rock was faster, and the loser whose nape it hit slowly sank onto the pavement. The sixth one stayed put, but he clearly wasn’t frightened. I felt no smell of fear emanating from him.

  “What do you want?”

  “Not ale, clearly,” I smirked.

  “What, then?”

  “I will give you a few coins, however.” I took several gold coins from my pocket.

  “What should I do?”

  “Tour the local taverns, find out where Count Sidon Andago and Riphar, Baron Morales’ youngest son, are staying.”

  “That doesn’t seem hard. How will I tell it to you?”

  “Tomorrow, same time, same place.”

  Two gold coins exchanged hands. I could kill all of them, of course, but why would I? They didn’t have a lot of money, but they definitely could pose lots of problems. A dead king, a baron drained dry, and then, a few murdered local ruffians? Were they a part of a pattern?

  I wasn’t going to overcomplicate matters, especially today.

  “Aren’t you afraid I will cheat you?”

  “I’ll find you and rip your legs off.”

  I meant my words, too, and the man knew it. He shuddered.

  “I’ll be here tomorrow.”

  “You’ll get more gold then,” I promised him and left.

  Nobody tried to stab me in the back and they were right not to; it bought them some time to live out their lives. The bastards had gotten lucky.

  ***

  Auntie Madie met me on the doorstep.

  “Innie’s sleeping, I saw you through the window. What’s going on there?”

  “Somebody has killed the king.”

  “Oh my!”

  Auntie clasped her cheeks and sank to the floor. I had to catch her by her hands and carefully move her to the couch.

  “Calm down, everything’s all right, I won’t let anybody harm you.”

  “How could this be? His Majesty! What’s going to happen now?”

  I felt ashamed. I really was a bastard. What was going to happen? Trouble, strife, chaos, anarchy, and mayhem. I was going to kill Darius as well, after all. And what would happen to such old women? Children? The meek and the mild?

  I hadn’t thought about that even for an instant. For me, it had always been about three things only: Torrin, Radenor, and the rest of the world, damn it to hell. But here, having seen it with my own eyes...

  I was too much of a demon, way more than I wanted to be. I touched the old lady’s hair, trying to console her.

  “Don’t, Auntie. No need to worry. I won’t abandon you, I promise. Nothing bad is going to happen to you.”

  “That’s easy for you to say, boy...”

  “I’m not just saying it. I will do it. Tomorrow, I will find out the details, but right now, I can’t even get inside the park, you must realize that.”

  “True..
. Oh, who could have done it?”

  “I don’t know. Maybe, the woman who helped Innis.”

  “B-but...how?”

  “See, Auntie, getting inside the royal bedchambers isn’t something just anybody can do.”

  Auntie was in complete agreement. She was right. Nobody accounted for a half-demon and a necromancer.

  “I’ve seen the baron’s body, too. He was literally drained dry as if a vampire got to him or some other unholy spawn.”

  Auntie made a sign of protection. Funny—what could it protect her from? Faith and willpower were the things that could protect, and if you had none, you could pray for weeks to no avail.

  “Dark times a’coming, Alex.”

  “Yes. Maybe that creature killed the king and had been leaving when it stumbled upon Innis. And...maybe she felt a sisterhood of sorts? Or had she gotten into a scuffle with the rapist before?”

  “Scary.”

  “No need to fret. That creature, whatever she was, would never set a foot here.”

  “And what should we do now, Alex?”

  “I think I destroyed all the traces of Innis’ presence. I couldn’t check, but I was careful enough, so I hope for the best. They will be looking for that woman and the Church’s methods are tried and true. Auntie, may I ask you to keep quiet about me and Innie?”

  “Of course.”

  Auntie seemed offended, and I explained.

  “See, even if we hadn’t done anything wrong, Innis is a young girl. She still has to marry, but with such a stain on her reputation, who could ever believe in her innocence?”

  Auntie couldn’t argue with that.

  “Of course, boy. What will we say, then?”

  “We went to the ball, Miron started to make advances on Innis, I thumped him on the head and led my cousin away, that’s all.”

  Madie nodded.

  “As you say, boy, as you say...”

  What else could we say? We had to wait and see.

  ***

  The morning was marked by the ringing of bells. I was right, after all. Apparently, the palace had been alerted right after they found the body of the baron. That was clearly the work of some unholy thing. And since the ball was held in the Royal Park, they had to check the palace too, just in case. Soon, they discovered two dead soldiers, and after that, took a risk and visited the king. And the king...

  There was an alarm, of course. They checked everybody, but...

  The park was next to the palace, so the courtiers had all received the invitations automatically, as had some servants—hard to tell who was in front of you when everybody was wearing a mask. Lots of townsfolk were there too, and the invitations didn’t include names! Now they were trying to shake the invitations list from the chancellor, but fat chance! There were way too many people!

  When a count requests three invitations, he gets them, and nobody could know to whom he gave them away. Total chaos, absolutely, but such is the tradition.

  The conclusions were unfortunate. The commander of the guards could lose his position and the Church would have problems as well. As for me, I could have stayed away from it all, but I really wanted to find out who that blonde was and locate her. I needed to learn why she had tried to set Innis up.

  I could do it alone, too. But there was no need to waste time, energy, and strength. So instead of that, I found the house of the commander of the City Guard and knocked at his door in the evening. We had a common goal, so it was tit for tat. Innis tried to discourage me, but we had no choice. I simply had to do it; I had already gotten chewed out by the Moraleses, barely escaping with my skin intact; I wasn’t going to take risks.

  The commander sat alone in his study, twirling a glass of strong spirits in his hand. He didn’t even raise his eyes when I was led inside; they couldn’t very well refuse me after I told them I had information about the incident from the previous day.

  His eyes were tired and full of longing. Finding the killer in such circumstances was impossible, yet he was expected to do so. And when will Prince Darius arrive? I knew that he wouldn’t, of course, but they didn’t.

  “What can I do for you, kind sir?”

  “Let me introduce myself. Alex Belient, I’m a baron from Tevarr.”

  “Lintor Temilen, also a baron. So?”

  “You want to know who’s behind yesterday’s incident, don’t you?”

  “Do you know?”

  “Not yet, but I can find out. You see, I’m a necromancer.”

  “W-what!”

  That piqued his interest. Rene used to tell me that he had worked both with the guards and the criminals in secret; everyone needed necromancers. And as for the Church not recognizing them, that was their own problem.

  “I’m not particularly powerful, but I can question the baron and learn who killed him.”

  “But what’s your interest?”

  “A pretty direct one. He took three invitations, didn’t he?”

  “Yes, but—”

  “For me and my cousin.”

  A spark appeared in Lintor’s weary eyes.

  “You’re playing with fire, young man. I could easily send you to a torture rack.”

  “You could. But I’d be risking so much more if I hadn’t come here. Sooner or later, you’d find Innis and me and I care about her good name.”

  “Which is?”

  “You’ll have to swear to me that everything you hear will be off the record. Don’t tell anybody anything unless I allow it.”

  “Should I wait to catch the killer until you allow it as well?”

  “Nobody’s against you catching him or making him confess. But you need help finding him, don’t you?”

  “I might.”

  “You don’t have any necromancers of your own in Riala or I would have felt it. You need them, though.”

  “Well...what’s your offer?”

  “Get me to the baron’s body, I’ll summon his spirit and grill him about who killed him, their motive, their method...”

  “Won’t he lie to us?”

  “A spirit!”

  “A spirit might not, but necromancers...”

  “Ask him by yourself, then. I don’t mind.”

  “Oh, really? Hmm...”

  Lintor agreed, of course. Going by his face, he would have been glad to repeat the very same trick with the king, but he couldn’t. Leading a necromancer to the king’s body was a fantasy so perverted, it would make a brothel madam blush. There were three rows of templars standing guard around the king. They would have burned both of us.

  But the baron... What was the worst that could happen? All was fair in crime and investigation.

  And thus, after half an hour, a noticeably lightened up Lintor left the study, calmed his family, and together, we headed for the city mortuary, where all corpses were taken for identification. The baron was there since his death was deemed too unusual; they were afraid they would have to put a wooden stake through his heart. What if he rose as an undead and tore everyone apart right after his body was given to the family? That’s been known to happen!

  Upon a closer examination, the baron looked even nastier. I didn’t feel sorry for him, though; I would have done so much worse for what he had done to Innis.

  The rest went about pretty straightforwardly. I drew a hexagram—the best choice for raising the dead, really—and added the glyphs for death, summoning, return, soul, mind, and memory. Black candles, a tinder, a flint stone... I put the body in the center, aligning the head to the west, and called. Gently and quietly, without saying anything aloud, I summoned the spirit of that man, knowing he would come; he had no choice.

  Three people were next to me: Lintor himself and two of his confidantes. That was no problem; it would even help. I released the power in waves, dark, warm, nurturing. It colored the candle’s lights black, making the air above the hexagram tremble and glide across the people’s skin like wind, as they shivered. They’ll survive. Dying is more painful.

  At last, a gh
ost appeared inside the hexagram: pale, barely visible—the one who had drained his blood had damaged his soul, too. I didn’t mind it, however. If I had gotten to Miron myself, there wouldn’t be even that.

  “Ask him.” I nodded at Lintor. He took a step forward.

  “Do you hear me, ghost?”

  “Answer his questions as if they were my own,” I commanded.

  “I do,” the ghost replied, pensive. If he had a tiny bit more power, there would be problems. Ghosts always kept a part of themselves, which meant they had a modicum of free will and could send the summoner to go...pick strawberries.

  Still, it depended on the ghosts’ strength, as well as the strength of the summoner. A tug-of-war of sorts. But in this case, there was no need to tug; that creature had no will to resist.

  “What is your name?” Lintor spoke, looking at me with suspicion. I was silent.

  “Miron Tiom an Rovall.”

  “Baron an Rovall?”

  “Eldest son, the former heir,” the ghost reported.

  “Why were you at the masquerade?”

  “Because I went there.”

  I hid a smirk. Indeed, ghosts answered the questions they were asked, but in this case, he would give only straightforward replies. Soon, Lintor realized this and started to pose only short, clear-cut questions.

  An hour passed, then another. After three hours of interrogation, I lost my cool and demanded rest. Lintor apologized and I released the ghost.

  “Are you satisfied?”

  “Quite. Thank you.”

  He had a good reason to thank me, all right. Now we knew that Miron was killed by a woman, a tall blonde in a scarlet dress. She didn’t just kill him, either—she bled him dry, and going by the ghosts’ words, she was half-vampire.

  He gave a pretty thorough description and I paused to think. I knew only one blonde half-vampire, but how could Lavinia turn up in Riolon?

  I had personally put her on a ship and, unless she was an idiot, she would never return here.

  Or maybe she is an idiot?

  I would have to scan the city for her familiar aura. Unfortunately, my expertise in that area wasn’t exactly great, so the maximum distance of the scan was around a hundred steps...or I could summon a demon that specialized in finding people. There were some like that.