Half-Demon's Fortune

by Lina J. Potter

  “Him?”

  “Among other things.”

  “What do you mean?”

  For a few minutes, Innis stayed silent. Then she took the plunge.

  “Uncle, I want to repeat the ritual. I want Alex to be with me. I can’t live without him!”

  “Do you love him?”

  “Yes. And I just need him.”

  The ghost paused.

  “Innis, why did he leave?”

  “He said that his presence endangered me. But here, in Andago?”

  “You think it’s safer here? Trust me, Innis, if he really wanted to stay...”

  “He did! Uncle, I’m not blind!”

  “Did he tell you this himself?”

  “He would have, I know, but he couldn’t!”

  “He couldn’t.”

  Tidann sighed, realizing that he would either lay his cards on the table right there or...

  Innis wouldn’t rest until she did something. Sooner or later, she would start some mess—and he, Tidann, had to stop her. Demonology was no joke. It could easily kill an unskilled mage and his bloodline still had no heir.

  “Whom do you want to summon, Innis?”

  “Alex.”

  “And how are you going to achieve that? Do you know his true name? Do you have a part of him?”

  “Er...no. But that ritual...”

  “You simply snatched the closest one you could get to and that’s it. This time, you could get anyone.”

  “But Alex...”

  “Alex is actually a half-demon.”

  “Yes, he told me that. But are you sure? I mean, the scales, the tail...”

  “I’m dead, I can tell those things. He’s a half-demon and a necromancer, absolutely—but not a true demon.”

  “But then he can live in our world?”

  “Oh, you lovebirds and your concerns! Innie, use your head, at last!”

  “Uncle? I don’t understand.”

  “Try to. Alex is no phony and no court dandy. He would have stayed if he could...if you’re sure he loves you.”

  Innis grew silent, reminiscing. His tender hands, his eyes, his smile, his looks when he thought she hadn’t noticed, his voice...

  “I’m sure, Uncle. He loves me, but for some reason... Oh, you, men, can be so stupid!”

  “But women are the paragons of sound judgment, of course.”

  Innis snorted, lively and upbeat.

  “Will you help me?’

  “I’ll teach you how to develop your gift, how to use it. And later, we’ll discuss necromancy, all right?

  Innis nodded. It’s better to start with the basics, isn’t it?

  Tidann looked at the girl and thought that he had a long way to go until he could finally rest, by far.

  Why is that brat always trying to drive herself into an early grave? Summoning demons, really? Alex, why in the netherworld didn’t you run away without breaking her heart first? You couldn’t? Have you fallen for her, too?

  But then, where will I look for the boy?

  Still, Tidann didn’t give in to despair. Ghosts had their own methods. First, he needed to convince Innis to grant him freedom, and then...

  His next step was to teach the girl the basics of magic so she could unbind him from the place of the summoning and he would do the rest. Ghosts were everywhere, after all: cities, castles, even villages, and all of them were chatty and curious. True, sometimes they ignored people... but not other ghosts. Tidann would question them all...and ask them for a favor.

  Yes, a necromancer called Alex. Younger than thirty—or Tidann would have sensed it since he had been a healer when he was alive, after all—blonde hair, blue eyes... Have any of you heard about him?

  Even if Alex wasn’t from Riolon, which was quite possible, as there was something...not quite local about him, one ghost could pass it on to another, and then a third. Sooner or later, the necromancer would be found, and then... You’re either going to come to Andago and explain yourself to Innis, or I’ll sic all the evil creatures in the neighborhood upon you! Stop stringing the girl along, you bastard! You dark ones are charismatic; that’s true but it doesn’t make my job easier...

  “Uncle?”

  “Yes, Innie?”

  “So what should we start with?”

  “With homework. Fifth shelf, third book on the right. The basic theory of four elements, take it and read it, got it?”

  “Yes.”

  “Learn the section on air elements. I’m going to ask you about it.”

  “Yes, Uncle.”

  Innis darted off toward the shelves. Indeed, love could drive a person to not just accomplish heroic feats, but also to study...even if the latter was so much harder.

  ***

  The palace became home to a host of rumors about Dariola.

  I imprisoned the queen because she cheated on me and then attempted to kill me.

  I imprisoned the queen because she was in love with another and an assassination attempt was a lie intended to justify myself.

  I killed the queen and was hiding the truth from the people.

  I sent her away to a convent because the child was not mine, but the minstrel’s, whom I killed as well. After all, nobody saw him either during the attack or afterward.

  But no matter the rumor, all of them amounted to the same thing. The king was free, and it was time for hunting season.

  At times, I felt like a cornered buck: I had enough work to drive myself mad, yet still had to contend with women throwing themselves at me. Well, it’s not like I had that many objections, but I had no time—and no wish to tangle with them, so far.

  Innis, my love, the zephyr of my life...

  Martha watched me, sympathetic, but didn’t pry. I told her everything about Innie, but what could she say? Nothing, thus far.

  For the next three or four months, I would have no time for love, and afterward... Do I really have the right to drag my beloved into that viper’s nest? Would she agree to that?

  Innis was an Andago, born and bred. She had been raised and taught to continue their line. And I...I was a Radenor, and that mattered to me as well.

  But my children would become the kings of Radenor, and also, quarter-demons. Giving birth to them would also be a lottery, even if not certain death, like with half-demons. Dariola had survived carrying Ricky almost to term because she was in my palace, my place of power built on blood and bones. If she had lived in a backwater place, like Michelle had, she would have perished back in the first trimester.

  Would Innis agree to something like that? I had to admit to myself that I was afraid.

  I wasn’t frightened of blood, death, and torture, but another disappointment, like with Carlie. It had been so painful back then...and the pain was still raw.

  Carlie, by the way, had returned to court and behaved in such a manner that I sometimes felt pity for her husband. There truly is nothing worse than a woman scorned. She continued making eyes at me, while I ignored her. I didn’t need her. Once, I would have given everything for her, but now, I imagined her next to Innis, and my girl raised her head high, tossing back her dark locks.

  I am an Andago, and I want my bloodline to live on.

  That was something that had never crossed Carlie’s mind. She even ran away from home for herself, not for her family or her blood. Innis was nothing like that. For Innis, the Andago family was above everything else. The rest was nowhere near as important.

  But I could never become part of her family. We had different roads. And also there was way too much blood on my hands. I had killed and taken pleasure from it, and I had a suspicion that eventually, my demonic nature would get the upper hand.

  What would happen then? I could leave this world for the demonic dimension, but would I be able to leave Innis here? Or at least avoid hurting her?

  I was afraid for her...and of myself.

  ***

  Rene Morinar tried to open his eyes and quickly realized that was impossible, as they were stuck togethe
r with dried blood.

  Idiot! Or worse, an idiot with an ass for a brain. He couldn’t really call himself anything but that. How could I fall for such an obvious trap?

  After arriving in Riolon, they had spent two days traveling the country and stopped for the night in the Miros family castle.

  That’s where they had been captured. A few drops of sleeping draught poured into the beer for the welcome guests and a blow to the head for those who didn’t drink, including Rene himself. He was a good enough fighter, but what could one man with a sword do against thirty warriors armed with nets and spears? They had knocked him down, caught him in a net, and beaten him senseless.

  He had no idea why, however.

  Rene tried to move and groan. It didn’t go unnoticed.

  “Are you awake?”

  The next moment, he got soaked in water. It wasn’t exactly clean, but rather a bit stale and lukewarm. Still, it was better than nothing. He gulped some of it down and the rest of it washed the blood from his face. They cleaned off the rest of it with a rag, finally letting him look around.

  He was definitely in a dungeon of some kind, judging by the smell and the damp air. A torture room? Four people were staring at him, one of them clearly a torturer: leather clothes, a mask on his face, pliers hanging from his belt. As for the other three...

  Oh, crap.

  They were definitely, servants of the Church, going by their robes, symbols, and the light in their eyes. Clear signs of obsession, too.

  Rene didn’t know, but the only way of escaping the King of Rats was faith. And fanaticism was distilled faith, its absolute, so to say. And so, the surviving servitors included not just the righteous and the true believers, like the priest encountered by Alex, but also those who couldn’t imagine themselves without faith, and faith without themselves. It had never occurred to the half-demon, and as for Rene...

  Rene hadn’t been told about the King of Rats in the first place. They had just said that the rats had gone mad, and then, Alex had no idea that some servitors could survive and organize a resistance. But zealots were a powerful force.

  “Y-yes.”

  “Aren’t you going to ask us what we want from you?”

  “You’ll tell me yourself,” Rene said, quickly realizing that they were going to torture him, and escaping that situation was far from likely.

  After all, luck never lasted long.

  “That’s true, we will. You are one of the demon’s minions, aren’t you?”

  “The demon!”

  It was a sincere surprise on Rene’s part; Alex had never transformed in his presence, so Morinar had no inkling of his friend’s true nature. The servitors saw that, too.

  “He’s not lying. Don’t you know whom you’re serving?”

  “His Majesty Alexander Leonard Radenor.”

  “And you have no idea that he’s a demon?”

  Rene fluttered his eyelashes.

  “He’s not a demon, no.”

  “But you have noticed something dark inside him, haven’t you?”

  Rene tried to shrug, but being on a rack made it hard.

  “Dark? I don’t think so. He’s an ordinary necromancer.”

  The Morinars couldn’t help but notice Alex’ talents, but then, it’s not like he had been keeping them especially secret. So what if he was a necromancer? It wasn’t the worst thing in the world.

  “A necromancer? So you knew that?”

  “Almost the entire palace knows.” Rene looked at them, undaunted. “What’s so bad about that?”

  “Necromancy?” The most ardent of the zealots leaned forward. The second one held him back by his shoulder.

  “Wait, we should learn everything first and pass his sentence later.”

  “And what’s my crime?”

  The templar’s eyes flashed with anger, his face twisted in an expression of unbridled fury.

  “Aiding and abetting necromancers is to be punished by burning at the stake!”

  “That’s not true.”

  “What!”

  “Have you read the laws of Radenor? It’s clearly stated that a stake is the punishment for hurting people with magic. Any magic, even water or life.”

  “And for spreading unholy heresy.”

  “That’s Rudolph’s addition, and I’m pretty sure he was drunk when he introduced it.” Rene was firm when he met the half-mad stare of the templar. “But even then, what does that mean, spreading heresy? Are we encouraging anybody to worship demons? Pray to them? Summon them? Never! Radenor’s no place for that filth!”

  There was so much conviction in his words than even the templar stepped back.

  “As for the rest... I do realize that Alex is a mage. So what? He hasn’t killed anyone with his magic, other than complete scumbags who would end up on the chopping block anyway! Does it matter how the sentence was passed?”

  “Don’t you see that serving a necromancer is wrong?”

  Rene hissed, angered. If he could, he would have spat into the templar’s face, but even talking still hurt him.

  “Wrong? How? Rudolph almost ruined the country, and he wasn’t a necromancer. Don’t you remember what was going on in Radenor? Or did it never reach you in your temples? You didn’t give a damn that people were starving, that our neighbors cut down our peasants, about the perpetual war at the border, about each and every nobleman overtaxing commoners... You, high and mighty on your pedestals! But Alex cares, even if he’s a mage. Now, our roads are safe. He’ll do anything for Radenor while you wince at him! Oh, he has the wrong kind of magic. That’s not his fault! He’s just using the gifts he was given! Go outside, talk to people, ask them if their lives have gotten better during Alex’s reign. Or better not, really, because they’ll give you a rightful beating for Alex, a long and a hard one!”

  The servitors exchanged glances. Rene was not a zealot by any means, yet he could rip anybody a new one for his country, and they felt it.

  “All necromancers are evil and must burn!”

  “Really?” Rene hissed. “Such idiots are you that you already brought a dying necromancer’s curse into our world. Do you know that’s how lilac chickenpox came to be?” Alex hadn’t concealed one Rene’s story from the other Rene. “And that only necromancers can cure it?”

  Going by the shock on their faces, they didn’t.

  “I wonder how many more should curse you so you would finally get it!”

  The templars looked at each other. Apparently, they are starting to realize something, but what? Knowing zealots and their stubborn ways, Rene had never hoped to change their minds, but if he could pique their interest, take their ears off...then he would get a chance.

  “A dying curse? Could it be...”

  “We should check if it could be used to summon a demon...”

  “It can be,” Rene stressed. “Alex told me. And not just a demon...it could be something even worse. He might be a fire mage, but he knows this stuff.”

  “A fire mage?”

  “Yes.”

  “Haven’t you said that His Majesty is a necromancer?”

  “Can’t a man have two gifts?”

  “A fire...mage?”

  “I’ve seen it myself!”

  That made them think. But what now?

  The templars left Rene lying on the rack. He didn’t have a lot of thoughts, just three: How are my people doing? How do I get out of here? How do I inform Alex?

  Sadly, he had no answers...and no chances to escape.

  ***

  Innis tossed her hair back. Did she look good? Absolutely; if she didn’t, the effect would be much different.

  “Lady Countess, please allow me to be the first to pay my respects to you.”

  Viscount Pirron’s look was full of admiration. He was quite handsome, too: tall, muscular, with long chestnut curls flowing down in tresses, a pretty face, and the smile of a professional heartbreaker. In the past, Innis might have liked him.

  Now, however, she threw the viscount
a cold and apathetic look. Why hadn’t he sought to talk to me when I was just a tenant in my own home? And it’s not like she had been away for long, either. Leonar Pirron had been known to visit her father occasionally but had never paid attention to her. You bet he hadn’t; back then, nobody could say what part of the inheritance would go to Innis if she remained alive at all. Now, however... He’s nothing more than a pathetic toady, a crooked scab.

  Innis’ face stayed innocent, never betraying her true thoughts. She smiled politely.

  “Viscount, your attention flatters me.”

  Encouraged, the viscount showered her in compliments. Innis listened to him, her head cocked, laughed at his jokes, but rebuffed his offer to go for a ride and admire the sunset.

  I have just returned home and have so much on my plate, you must realize that...

  The viscount frowned but asked if she would agree later.

  Yes, of course. As soon as I’m able. Absolutely.

  Innis lied so confidently that she never even doubted herself and only let herself relax after sending him off.

  Phew.

  “Innie, dearie, has he left?”

  “Yes, Auntie.”

  “Did he promise to return?” That was Tyrimma’s remark.

  “He did,” Innis replied, wincing. Her noble status was like dung, attracting...dung beetles!

  Tyrimma sure didn’t think so, however, as she pointedly rolled her eyes.

  “What a looker!”

  Innis snorted. Has it been long since you were sobbing next to your husband’s body, sweetie? You wailed like a banshee at his funeral, tears streaming down your face, all snot and snivel!

  Yet that was behind her and life wanted life.

  “Looks aren’t everything.”

  “True, but isn’t he a nice boy?” Auntie Madie asked.

  “I don’t need him. He’s not Alex.”

  Tyrimma pursed her lips. Innis sighed.

  I will definitely learn everything I have to. I’ll wait and I’ll find him. Alex and I will be together, end of story, and that trash...

  Well, when he returned, he would get rid of the viscount, while she would try to avoid giving him any cause to kill people. For some reason, Innis didn’t doubt that the demon would be jealous and a demon’s jealousy usually meant injuries for everyone else.