by Kylie Chan
I sat up and looked around with my Inner Eye. I was in a tower that stretched enormously high above a lush island. It appeared to be made of obsidian; its polished sides shone in the sunshine. Many curved glass windows of random sizes punctuated its walls; the window to my room was one of the smaller round ones. A tall, narrow dome of transparent crystal covered the tower, like the glass dome over a mantel clock.
I was still wearing the hospital gown I’d been kidnapped in. The fact that I was still alive was both worrying and reassuring. It meant they wanted something from me. Probably John’s cooperation, and the stupid damn Turtle was so in love with me he’d do anything they asked. I had to get out. I didn’t have the stone either, so I had to get access to the internet somehow, to send them the necessary information.
My Inner Eye didn’t give many details of my surroundings, so I walked to the window, admiring the parquet flooring as I went. At the centre of the room, the wood had been inlaid in an Art Nouveau design of a giant rose, surrounded by vines and leaves. It was disturbingly reminiscent of the story of Sleeping Beauty.
I leaned on the carved wooden window ledge, and the view took my breath away. The dome’s surface was close enough to the window to touch, but it was completely transparent and almost invisible. I was so high up it was like I was flying. Gently sloping hills spread below me, covered in brilliant green grass and copses of trees. A river ran between the hills, its water reflecting the sky and its small white clouds. The sky was the impossibly intense blue of the Celestial Plane. The view resonated within me: this was Western heaven, one of the places from my dreams. I was finally home where I belonged — but as a prisoner.
I pulled myself together, taking deep breaths. I couldn’t let this place get to me. I had to remember who and what I was, and the people who loved me and had lost me.
I took another look around with my Inner Eye, this time at the interior of the tower. My room was at least six hundred metres up the tower. Horror crept over me as I saw that the only occupants of the building apart from me were all demons. Every single one. And there were thousands of them.
I tried the door; of course it was locked. My Inner Eye showed no physical locking mechanism. There wasn’t even an old-fashioned keyhole.
I turned back to the window. It was a single sheet of glass and didn’t open. I checked the room for something to break it with, and saw a wooden chair with legs and arms that were carved into vines. The Art Nouveau theme appeared everywhere, and in different circumstances I would have found the whole place enchanting.
I picked up the chair, took it to the window and threw it as hard as I could against the glass. A couple of the legs cracked as it hit the glass, then fell to the floor. Okay.
I was about to try calling the Murasame when a movement caught the corner of my eye. It had come from the mirror above the dressing table. I checked the room: empty. The movement came again and I gingerly shifted so that I could see my reflection in the mirror.
A small, plump European woman — obviously a Shen from her wise expression — was standing where I should be and looking straight at me. She wore a tan and gold gown that fell to the floor, with roses embroidered on the bodice. I looked around — okay, she was just in the mirror. She gestured to me to come closer, then put her palm against the mirror’s glass. I put my hand on hers, and a distant lilting melody came to me, merry pipes and a drum. Her compassionate essence moved through me.
I cannot reach through time in person, she said, such a thing is forbidden. But you will need assistance if our mistakes are to be made good. Her expression changed and I felt her sadness. I will bolster your strength until you can break their control.
How will they control me? What do I need to do to stop them? I said.
A tall man with long blond hair entered the room behind her. He was wearing a pale blue tunic and trousers with snowbells embroidered down the sleeves and pant legs.
‘Hurry, my love, the dance has already begun,’ he said, then saw me. ‘And what is this?’ He smiled slightly. ‘Find some suitable apparel, little one, and join the dance.’
‘She will not be joining us today,’ the woman said, turning away from me. ‘But she must remember to touch the glass.’
Both of them faded and I removed my hand from the mirror. Okay.
I returned to the door and was considering breaking it down when the handle turned. I jumped back.
The door opened slightly and the Demon King poked his head around. He was in his mid-twenties male human form with blood-coloured hair in a short ponytail.
‘There are clothes in the dresser,’ he said. ‘Put something on, there’s a good girl, and I’ll be back in five minutes.’
‘What are you —’ I began, but he closed the door on me.
I considered for a moment, then went to the dresser to find something that wouldn’t leave my ass hanging out in the open air. The drawers were filled with clean new clothes, fresh with the scent of lavender. I found some underwear, a pair of soft moleskin pants and a white shirt that seemed to be made for me.
‘Are you decent?’ the Demon King said from the other side of the door.
‘Yes,’ I said.
He opened the door and gestured with his head. ‘Come on then. Time to meet our host.’
I took a quick glance at the now-unremarkable mirror before following him through the door. Two large Western demons in True Form were waiting outside.
The hallway was three metres wide, with the same high ceiling and a polished stone floor inlaid with a design of twining ivy. The ivy theme continued in carved wood up the wall columns, joining at the ceiling to create an artificial bower. The hall appeared to stretch the width of the tower, with windows at either end. The window behind me was a floor-to-ceiling circle filled with a single sheet of glass painted in translucent colours, with flowers and more ivy curling around its edge. The window at the other end of the hallway was so far away it was barely visible.
‘Is this Tara?’ I said.
‘I heard you’d been doing some research,’ the Demon King said. ‘No, this is Caer Wydr.’
‘The Glass Fortress.’
‘Or Glass Citadel, something like that.’
‘Why are you here? This isn’t a demon place, it belongs to their gods.’
‘Ah, good question.’ He smiled slightly and gestured towards the other end of the hallway. ‘Wait until we meet up with our host and I’ll explain everything.’
‘Who’s our host?’
‘One of the Four Kings of this part of the world. Lord Semias.’
As we walked, I checked for stairs or an open window to run through. When we reached the middle of the hall, there were stairs down. I summoned the Murasame, cut one of the guards in half before they could react and jumped over the body. I didn’t bother with the King or the other guard, I just ran to the stairs, hopped up onto the guardrail and dropped off to float down the centre of the stairs. I checked each floor as I passed, hoping to find a way out. Nothing.
When I reached the bottom, I bolted into the hallway and found more stairs down. I sliced through some confused-looking demons and ran down the stairs, hoping to find some sort of fire escape. Instead, I came out in the receiving hall of what was obviously the castle’s dungeon. A couple of burly demon guards jumped to their feet and dropped their playing cards when they saw me.
There was a small round window in the wall to my right. I launched myself at it with the Murasame, and nearly broke my wrist when the sword hit the glass and didn’t go through. I stepped back, confused. Nothing short of a shield of Celestial Jade had ever blocked the dark blade before.
The Demon King appeared behind me and grabbed my sword arm in a grip that I couldn’t free myself from.
‘Damn, you’re fast,’ he said.
He squeezed the pressure point between the bones of my weak and withered forearm, effectively paralysing my hand, and I dropped the sword. It floated slightly above the floor and the demons stepped back from it, intimidat
ed.
‘Help me,’ an elderly man called from the cells. ‘Please, if you can hear me —’
‘Shut up, old man, nobody’s coming to help you,’ the King shouted over my shoulder. He spoke into my ear. ‘Some guests are never satisfied. Try something stupid like that again and you will be punished. There’s no way out of the tower unless I open it for you. Now.’ He twisted my arm painfully behind my back. ‘It’s a very long ride back up again, and we’re going to make it together.’
‘What about the sword, my Lord?’ one of the demons said, studying the Murasame. His expression changed to avarice. ‘Is that a legendary weapon?’
‘It’s yours if you can hold it,’ the Demon King said.
The demon glanced at him. ‘Seriously?’
‘Any demon that can hold this sword can take possession of it,’ the King said. ‘Its name is the Murasame, the Destroyer. It’s a legendary weapon from the East.’
The demon edged towards the sword. He held one hand out, gingerly took the handle and immediately exploded into demon essence, some of which was siphoned into the King as he held me.
‘This will be fun,’ the King said. He nodded to the other demon. ‘Anyone who wants can try to take the sword. Limit of twenty a day, though. I can’t afford to lose too many of my soldiers. Do you want to try?’
The second guard was more cunning. ‘Will it destroy me too?’
‘Oh, absolutely,’ the King said.
The demon shook his head and returned to his station. ‘Then I’d prefer to just leave it.’
‘Smart man,’ the Demon King said, and led me into an elevator that mirrored the Art Nouveau theme.
Back at the top of the tower, we went into a room that was obviously on the corner; it had two walls of glass from floor to ceiling. Once again, the view over the green hills was breathtaking. This room had an oak motif: oak leaves and acorns were twined around pillars and embossed into the wooden floor. A Western demon, who’d taken the shape of an elderly European man, sat on the couch. He was wearing a hooded tan robe that fell to the floor in old-fashioned druid style, the hood thrown back from his long, elegant face.
He rose when we entered. ‘Let her go, George. There’s no need for this.’ His voice sounded exactly like the elderly man I ’d heard calling out in the dungeon.
‘Try her out first,’ the Demon King said. He shook my arm, which he was still holding painfully behind me. ‘Say hello to Lord Semias, Emma.’
‘You’re not Semias, I heard him in the dungeon,’ I said. ‘You’re a big —’
‘Shut up,’ the Western demon said, and I was silenced.
I attempted to speak, but couldn’t get any words out.
The Semias copy changed form to a European man in his early forties wearing a tailored navy suit with a white shirt and maroon tie. ‘You were right,’ he said to the Demon King. ‘It was just a matter of me being from the right region and much bigger than her.’ He studied me. ‘Barely enough demon in there to count. One more generation and I wouldn’t be able to control her. Kneel,’ he ordered me.
I had no choice; I fell to my knees. The Demon King released me as I dropped.
‘You think she’s pretending?’ he said, coming around in front of me to study my face.
‘I doubt it,’ the Western demon said, ‘she’s tiny. Hardly worth bothering about. This is what you put all that effort into?’
‘She’s pretended to be controlled before,’ the Demon King said.
‘Let’s be sure,’ the Western demon said.
He stood in front of me and started to undo his pants. I wanted to move away but couldn’t. I was frozen and helpless. He jammed his crotch in my face and I could smell him. A wave of nausea ripped through me.
‘Oh no you don’t,’ the Demon King said. ‘You made a promise. No sexual assault.’
‘Haven’t you ever wondered how good she is?’
‘Beside the point. No women are forced to do anything sexual while we hold them. I made that clear at the start.’
‘But you’re quite ready to impregnate her with a demon child. How is this so different?’
Another wave of nausea went through me.
‘That’s a medical procedure,’ the Demon King said with emphasis. ‘This is rape. Now put that away.’
‘Your origins betray you, Kitty, and one day they will be your downfall.’
‘Whatever,’ the Demon King said. ‘Find another way to prove she’s obedient.’
The Western demon fixed his pants and waved one hand at the window. The glass of the window and the dome disappeared.
‘Bad idea,’ the Demon King said.
‘Stand up,’ the Western demon said.
I rose and faced the window and my freedom.
‘Could she manipulate her centres and survive that fall?’ the Western demon said.
‘Could you, Emma?’ the Demon King said.
I tried to reply but couldn’t.
‘She needs permission to speak,’ the Western demon said. ‘Answer him.’
‘Easily,’ I said.
‘Well then, there’s your freedom; all you have to do is jump,’ the Western demon said. ‘Now sit on the couch and put out your left arm. We’re taking blood.’
More than anything in the world I wanted to leap through that window to my freedom. A chill breeze swept through the room, full of the fresh cool air of the Western Heavens. Instead, I sat on the couch and put my arm out. I had no choice.
The Western demon put the glass back with a wave of his hand, then picked up a kidney dish covered with a cloth. He took out a large syringe, put a tourniquet around my upper arm, and slipped the needle into the vein. He took nearly three hundred millilitres, more than enough to fill a large drinking glass. He squirted half the blood into an oversized wine glass, leaving half of it still in the syringe. He took a sip of the blood in the glass and then held it away, his expression rigid. A golden glow exploded around him and he trembled, his eyes closed, then he dropped his head and panted. He took another sip and made soft noises of effort.
‘Did you just come in your pants?’ the Demon King said with amusement.
‘Nearly.’ The Western demon held the glass up to the light. ‘Dear God, George, it’s pure DDOMA serpent, the real thing. I haven’t tasted anything like this in close on a thousand years.’ He turned his attention to me. ‘How is this possible? Look at her, she’s tiny. She’s mostly human; far too fragile to be good for anything. There’s hardly any demon at all, and what is there is weak and useless. If I ran into her on the Earthly, I ’d just eat her and count her as a snack.’ He raised the glass again. ‘Why is she like this?’
‘Years of hard work. The Dark Lord has trained her to be a perfect blend of physical power and energy control, and it all fits together to make her greater than the sum of her parts. I knew he wouldn’t be able to resist a double-heritage DDOMA. I couldn’t believe my luck when I found an O’Breen-Donahoe in Hong Kong.’
‘We must have her teach our armies what she’s learnt.’
‘That’s the plan,’ the Demon King said.
He smiled slightly and held his hand out, and the Western demon passed him the glass. He raised it to me. ‘Cheers, Emma. I finally have you in human form and we’ll make sure he won’t find you this time. I have a chance to do some very nice work with you now.’
He sipped the glass and looked confused. He raised it in front of his face. ‘Interesting. I’ve been waiting years for this, and she just tastes like an ordinary human to me.’
The Western demon took the glass back. ‘That’s because she’s from here. You’re the wrong nationality to fully appreciate it.’
‘Shame.’ The Demon King concentrated, and a small skinny Eastern demon wearing nothing but a lab coat came in. The King waved one hand at the syringe in the kidney dish. ‘Is that enough?’
The demon checked the syringe. ‘More than enough.’
‘Full blood work. I want a complete DNA as well. Everything you have on it,�
�� the King said.
The Western demon took a gulp from the glass. ‘You’re not having this. It’s sublime.’ He looked over the rim at me. ‘How much could we take from her each day without killing her?’
‘Not more than what you have here, and over a long enough time it would kill her anyway,’ the skinny demon said.
‘Damn,’ the Western demon said. He shrugged. ‘Hurry up and do what you want to do with her, George.’
‘It depends on what this blood work shows,’ the Demon King said. ‘If she’s capable, I’ll change her into a Mother again and have her producing young. If not, I’ll mess around with her human genetics and see what comes out.’
‘If you impregnate her yourself, the spawn will probably obey you,’ the Western demon said.
‘That’s what I was thinking. They should be exceptional, quite capable of acting as generals in the army.’
I wanted to throw myself at him and tear him to shreds, but I couldn’t move.
‘She’s shaking,’ the Western demon said. ‘She doesn’t like that idea.’
‘Do you have complete control?’ the Demon King said. ‘She won’t free herself with a giant act of will or anything?’
‘Don’t be ridiculous, there’s no chance of that. She’s too small. She’ll do whatever I tell her.’
‘You should take away her awareness and sentience, just to make sure.’
No!
‘But she’s more fun fighting it! Look at her. Completely unable to do anything.’
‘Trust me, she might win.’
‘Oh, all right.’
The Western demon put the glass down and came to me. I quivered with effort as I tried to move away from him. He put his hand over my face.
‘When I say “now”, you will stop having any independent thoughts and exist only to obey my orders until I tell you otherwise. Now.’
I fell into a bottomless black pit.
24
Zhenwu
Ruby and the stone arranged a meeting at a pub in a small village on the island of Anglesey, which sat between the mainland of Wales and Holy Island. The pub was located across the road from a ruined castle.