Green Agate Pretender (Demon Lord Book 9)

by Morgan Blade

  Grace lifted her eyebrows. “You’re a medical researcher?”

  “I certainly am.”

  Colt looked at his mother, but didn’t contradict her. He looked conflicted, and worried.

  Women will do that to you.

  Tukka huffed and growled low in his throat, a sound like a muffled lawnmower. Don’t we have a mission to finish?

  Izumi handed me the black backpack with the mega-tie in it. I slipped it on, then pulled the batman voice changer helmet from a bag at my side that carried grenades. I was about to put it on, when Colt saw it.

  His face lit up. “How did you know I wanted one of those?”

  “Well, actually, I got it for…”

  Selene and Izumi—who both knew me well—were giving me ball-crushing looks.

  I changed what I was about to say. “…for you, hoping you’d like it. I know you think I’m a terrible father, but…I really do care for you.”

  As long as I was being forced to be generous, I thought I deserved some brownie points for this. Colt snatched it from my hand, put it on, and pressed a button on the side. A digital voice said: “Whores, beware, Batman is prowling.”

  Everybody stared at me.

  I cleared my voice. “I, uh, may have improved the pre-recorded dialog a bit. Colt, don’t use that in mixed company, and don’t repeat anything it may say.”

  “You’re an ass, dad.”

  I’d have been crushed, but he said it with a smile, and warmth in his tone.

  Izumi opened an ice-blue portal with a dark blue core. “Step in and I’ll punch the portal through to the Phantom Lands. If you jump out and crossover right away, you should be safe, and might even go unnoticed.”

  Grace turned to Tukka. That’s when I noticed the petite riding saddle she picked up out of the grass. It had very long straps. She approached Tukka with it.

  He retreated a step. Aw, Grace, come on, I don’t want to wear that. It’s embarrassing. The ghosts will laugh at me.

  Grace put fists on her hips. “We’ve been over this. You have a helluva blind spot now. You need me to see what you can’t. Why do you think we’ve been practicing with the heel nudges and all?”

  Tukka not a horse!

  No, I thought. Horses are pretty and not so fat.

  Grace threw the saddle on him and crawled under him to gather a strap. She came out with it and cinched the buckle tight. “You’re not Daredevil either. You grow a radar-sense, and we’ll leave the saddle home. Until then…”

  Tukka sighed and stood still while Grace mounted him. I scrambled up behind her and reached around for a good grip.

  Wouldn’t want to fall off.

  My hands found a rounded shape that intrigued them.

  Grace hissed at me over her shoulder. In a low voice, she asked, “What do you think you’re grabbing?”

  “Oops, sorry. I’m not used to those being there.”

  Jump off, Grace. Tukka roll and squash him like a bug.

  “I’ve got it covered.” Grace held out her hand. A thin, edged shaft of shadow grew out of her fist, a sword, ready for use. She spoke over her shoulder again. “Do I have to use this?”

  “Not at all. It was just an accident,” I lied. “Won’t happen again.”

  “It better not,” Selene said. “You are way overextended these days as it is, stud-muffin.”

  “Tell me about,” Izumi complained.

  Even Colt gave me the old stink-eye, the voice-changer helmet hiding most of his face. He pressed the button on the side. A digital voice said: “I will fuck you with a batarang.”

  Selene peeled the helmet off him. “I think we need to burn this now.”

  “Aw, Mom! He had it coming.”

  TWENTY-EIGHT

  “Just when I’m sure I’ve won, Fate

  takes a dump on my hopes and dreams.”

  —Caine Deathwalker

  Grace and I rode into the portal mouth. Swirling icy blue light made a tunnel. Izumi stayed behind, in my garden. “Here goes,” she called. The forward wall of light irised open.

  Tukka carried us out into the Phantom Lands. The ground sounded squishy. We were surrounded by white cypress that grew very tall, lifting bent branches to the sky as if in prayer. The leaves were feathery, delicate, reminding me of Grace’s antennae. There was also black gum tupelo with swelled bases guarding narrow creeks. There were white egrets in the higher branches, fussing at each other with gurgled calls.

  “Hey, what happened to all the sunlight?” Grace asked.

  There was a haze of red in the west. A twilight gloom pressed in. We’d gone from morning to twilight. An eternal, frozen twilight. “Each lord shapes his land,” I said. I allow regular time flow and seasonal change. Here, it looks like they’re fond of spooky atmospherics. Probably so their beloved human ghosts can manifest and the fey can interact with them.”

  “Weird,” Grace said.

  We’d lucked out by emerging in a place with no people. We could travel here without shifting to the Ghost World too soon. We’d do so when necessary. The drawback to crossover was that Grace’s clock started with the shift; she used up energy just keeping herself there. The more we stayed on this side of things, the stronger she’d be when we faced trouble. It was one of the tiny details that I hadn’t mentioned to Izumi and Selene.

  Izumi’s poral closed on my end. She’d be pushing it through now to a new point, one where my back-up could monitor me without getting too close, but still be ready to roll in if I radioed for help.

  Extending my senses through the green agate crown, I picked up the Phantom Court tie. That gave me a direction, and a sense of distance. I pointed through the trees. “That way, two miles maybe.”

  Tukka carried us along at an easy canter, leaping creeks when necessary, his belly shielding us from the mud he kicked up. We disturbed a great blue heron, sending it into the sky. He scolded us with a sound that made me think of a duck with laryngitis.

  Tukka slowed and veered around a hedge, stopping short of coming out into the open. I knew why. I could hear the rhythmic falling of an ax splitting wood. We were reaching civilization. I slid off Tukka and went around him to peek out into a clearing. I saw a man chopping firewood under a live southern oak shrouded with Spanish moss. Behind him was a house that combined the fancy trim of a Victorian with the low sprawl of a ranch house. It had bay windows and gables, plus a brick chimney.

  The man wore leather breeches and a loose, white cotton shirt with drawstring ties to close the front. Lacy cuffs adorned his wrists. He stopped, set the ax aside and whipped his face with a black silk handkerchief. “You might as well come out,” he called. “Little Tim has already reported your movements to me.”

  I stepped out from cover and took a few steps toward him. “Little Tim?”

  A patch of fog materialized by the man. It took on the shape of a boy a little older than Colt. The ghost hovered, his legs withering into feet of vapor, not quite touching the grass. He was dressed the way boys were back on Earth, where I guess he’d been collected. The ghost moved his lips. I heard only a moan of wind.

  The man seemed to understand. “Timmy says you have a monster with you, and a girl.”

  “I was trying not to scare you.”

  “Ha. I don’t scare easy. Bring your monster out.”

  “I wouldn’t call him a monster. Big, but there are bigger beasts in Fairy. Tukka, show yourself.”

  He plodded out and around the hedge and stopped. Grace looked down with interest at the fey man and his ghost. “Hi. I’m Grace.” She patted the side of the fu dog. “This is Tukka.”

  The man peered intently. “My, he certainly is…blue. You don’t see that too often. So, where are you folks going.”

  “This is my first time in Fairy. My friend here is showing me around,” Grace said.

  “Just passin’ through,” Caine said. “A lot of tension among the kingdoms these days, so we’re trying not to draw too much attention.”

  “In the Phantom Land
s? The king’s Specter Corps see everything. Not much chance of anyone just slipping through.”

  “Well, as you can see, it’s just Grace and me riding by. It’s not like we’re a threat.” I smiled, giving him my most practiced expression of harmless innocence.

  “I hope not, stranger, but if you’ve come to trouble us, you’ve met your match.”

  “You are obviously the first line of defense,” I said. “Common settlers don’t use silk handkerchiefs. That’s an aristocratic oversight.”

  The man laughed again. “And I thought my role camouflage was perfect.”

  Grace murmured very low, trusting my dragon hearing to pick her up. “I sense ghosts. A lot of them. I think we’re surrounded.”

  I shrugged, keeping my eyes on the stranger. “Look, if you want be our guide, we don’t mind you keeping an eye on us. We’d like to visit the Court, see a few ghosts, and anything you think might be of interest. We have silver to spend, too, if there are some markets around here. What do you say?”

  “You are a very good liar, but my ghost friends can read your aura. Purple, gold, and a lot of scary black they say. What are you, exactly?”

  “You’re getting rather personal, don’t you think? Peeking at auras, have you no shame?” Blathering, I looked past him, trying to see if anyone was peeking out a window.”

  The stranger said, “Is that a crown you’re wearing? Would you happen to be Caine Deathwalker, the Lord of the Dragon Lands?”

  I ignored the question, shaping a shadow pattern on my stomach, feeding it a wash of golden dragon magic to activate it. My Dragon Vision kicked in.

  Colored tags floated over the stranger identifying a hell of a lot of enchanted weapons disguised as common items. The handkerchief he held had a death curse woven into it. Several buttons on his shirt had protective runes. There were multiple knives in his boots with major killing spells attached. The leather cuff on his right wrist hid an amulet for controlling ghosts.

  The axe he’d been using no longer looked like a common tool for chopping wood. It had become an enchanted double-headed battle-axe. The spell tag on it was red. If I read the Elven glyphs on it right, there was a spell on it for chopping through magical protective barriers.

  The little spirit next to him had a pale blue tag printed with: Ghost, level 3. The little guy was weak, just a mascot.

  Especially weird, the cabin wasn’t really there, just a ghost of a house that had burned down in past years. Under my spell, I saw the caved-in roof, burnt timbers, and broken windows.

  “What are you,” I asked. “A royal trouble-shooter for the king? I’m betting that no matter how we approached, we would have run into you, right?”

  The smile fell off his face. A dangerous glint entered his eyes. “You’re a lot smarter than the stories say.”

  I shrugged. “I get that a lot from people—just before I kill them.”

  “Caine?” Grace made a question out of my name.

  I eased back up until I felt her leg behind me and knew I was close enough for her to grab. “Apparently, we’ve been intercepted by a one-man army.”

  He bowed at the compliment, but didn’t take his eyes off me. His hand reached for the axe. “Kind of you to say so, but I have an army. They just haven’t materialized yet.”

  “Yes, we know. Grace, it’s time.”

  Her hand pressed my shoulder. Gravity fluttered. An electric tingle went through me and color faded to graytones. I charged my body with golden dragon magic to anchor myself in the Ghost World.

  The fey snatched up his axe and ran several steps toward me, only to stop, his stare sweeping in a search pattern. I was no longer in a place he could see, or choppable. Unfortunately, he was right about his army. Men, women, children: ghosts were thickly clustered around us. They could see and touch us. And the stronger ones had ghostly weapons manifested by the power of their will. I saw a chef with a meat cleaver, a soldier with a sword.

  I pulled away from Grace so she’d know I didn’t need her to keep me here anymore. “If you guys have this, I’ll run on ahead and swipe the tie.”

  Go. Tukka got this.

  I drew my katana and covered the blade with black shadow, wrapping it in coils of lightning for extra lethalness. I ran at the ghosts barring my way.

  Behind me, Tukka unleash a bellow that shivered the world. It felt like falling out of a plane back first onto an ocean hard as bricks. The thunder burst lifted and blasted me ahead. The ghosts I’d planned to slice and dice were shredded into thin curls of silver mist as I shot through them like a bullet.

  Yeah, I guess they do have this.

  I went quite a ways before the lighter gravity brought me down. Jumping as I landed, I used a series of moon-hops to clear the area. I passed several more houses, these ones real, and noticed heavily armed riders waiting to be called in by the guy with the enchanted battle axe. Yeah, they were definitely waiting for me. My best advantage now was that, as a ghost, they couldn’t see me, otherwise, leaping around with a magic sword would have been reckless.

  Oh crap!

  They had a few weak ghosts with them. Falling out of the sky, I put a finger to my lips. Don’t rat me out.

  They did, pointing at me, talking in windy moans.

  Damn floaty bastards. I really hate ghosts.

  Going full out, I leaped with dragon strength. I couldn’t fly like Grace but my incredible Hulk imitation moved me along nicely. The ghosts tried to keep up, but I left them in my dust. This happened a few more times, and then I was at a great monstrosity of a temple, at least that’s what it looked like. A long swimming pool in front, courtyards, columns, a dome of a roof that could have sheltered a stadium. There were no ghosts outside, but I could still run into some near the tie. The crown guided me, letting me feel the power of the land, the power of the last king I needed to face. This energy had a texture different from the rest of the fey I’d encountered.

  If I move fast, in and out like a quick fuck, I should be all right.

  Walls enclosed me. I had to flatten my trajectory to stay under the ceiling. I passed oblivious fey servants going about their business. There were soldiers station at regular intervals, but they had no ghostly buddies to out me. I guessed that most of them had been sent out to form a defensive ring.

  My sense of the tie took me higher, up a staircase. Several stories higher, in an open space with a throne of silver, I found a single fey waiting me—and the mother of all ghosts, if that’s what it was.

  Demon spirit, maybe.

  The shape was non-human, as if an alien monster had died and its spirit had come here by accident. The thing was gray-bodied, and smoky black of limb, not silver like a proper ghost. It’s six spider eyes were red stars in an elongated head. Its neck was long, bleeding a jagged mane of black hair half way to the floor. A kangaroo tail jutted out in back to balance that long neck. It had fully formed feet—rabbit feet—clawed, and four arms, triple-jointed of course.

  Why make things easy for me?

  I hit the floor, willing my feet not to go through it. A loss of focus, and I could drop down a floor. Not really a bad idea if things went against me. Of course, demon-thing would follow.

  What do they feed that thing anyway? Other ghosts? It’s bigger than Tukka.

  I tried to stop, and did after a few awkward bounces that nearly slammed my face through the floor. I straightened.

  The ghost had all its claws down on the floor, ready to pounce. The fey lord stopped it with a gesture. “Easy, Volar, not yet. I want to speak to this one.”

  The ghost huffed, drooling spectral slime, baring shark-like layers of teeth at me, but it did stay put. The lord walked toward me, his eyes locked on. I might have been invisible to others, but not him.

  Damn, that’s just not fair.

  The crown tugged my attention to the throne. The tie was there, on the cushioned seat, a green-white crystal waiting for my greedy hands.

  I planted my sword tip on the floor, and willed it to support
me as I leaned forward. I dimmed out the golden energy, and let the shadow bleed down onto the stone floor. Like a spreading pool, it turned onyx, a glossy black sea. If I needed my little tentacled pets, I’d need them fast.

  The advancing lord nearly lost step as the darkness spread under him, but since nothing happened to him, he ignored the phenomenon and kept coming. “Cute trick,” he said.

  My Dragon Vision noted a number of magic rings with power to summon. Otherwise, he seemed unarmed. Of course, he had demon-thing.

  Such a comfort.

  He wore clothing from my world, packing broad-shoulders into a business suit of blue, so washed out it was almost white. The suit matched his eyes. And hair. He wore silver-skull earrings with ruby eyes. A sheathed, basket-hilt rapier hung on an azure leather belt cinching his waist. His shoes were Italian loafers. His white cream skin made him seem almost a ghost himself.

  “I am Orin,” he said. “The Phantom Lord. And if you want my tie, outworlder, you must go through me and my little pet.”

  “If you insist.” I gave him a smile and a level stare that hid none of the darkness in my soul.

  He flinched.

  And I attacked.

  TWENTY-NINE

  “When Death comes, I fear he’ll hurry the

  experience; he’s been waiting so long...”

  —Caine Deathwalker

  I went in, half my body submerged in the dark sea I’d created, instead of what should have been the floor. My sword thrust diagonally toward his heart. He scrambled back, drawing his sword with a metallic scrape that was almost a scream. I called to my pets in the darkness to rise and take Volar. I didn’t need to fight both a fey lord and a demon-spirit at the same time.

  Orin’s sword caught my blade, but he didn’t fight my strength or redirect my attack. Instead, he moved himself in a sideways arc, much easier. I was forced to turn and follow, rising from the dark sea to stand on it again. Our swords scraped and clattered, engaging, flowing with swift licks of the points, and tiny sweeps, each of us trying to open the door to a decisive kill.