Devil's Punch cs-4

by Ann Aguirre

  Craning my neck, I took my first complete visual inspection. The structure was Gothic, with crenellated windows, four separate towers, flying buttresses, ribbed arches, and high vaults. In places the dark stone had crumbled away, leaving chunks broken on the courtyard tile. Part of me remembered when this place bustled with those eager to do my bidding, but it was dark and silent now.

  No matter.

  “Lay him out here,” I told Greydusk.

  The Imaron set my father’s body down gently. Though it would take time and power, I knew a ritual that would burn him to ash, but I needed magickal accoutrements first, much stronger than the white witch herbs in the box my human half had treasured so. Unfortunately, her belongings had been left in a car abandoned on a mountainside. There might be some components left within the castle.

  Inside, it was a ruin, and I found nothing salvageable, save a white curtain, which I used as a funeral shroud. With a stub of charcoal, I scrawled my needs on a scrap of ancient parchment. “You will fetch these items for me immediately,” I told Greydusk.

  “As you command, my queen.”

  That left Chance and me alone in the dying light, as shadows gathered around my father’s body. Yet I couldn’t bring myself to leave him. Someone should stand guard over him in death as no one had in life. His sacrifice must be respected.

  “Can I hold you?” he asked.

  It was proper that he did inquire, even in private, and I craved the comfort of his arms. Such behavior was not regal, perhaps, but there were none to see, not even the quasits, which had stalked our steps since our arrival. Now there was only darkness and silence.

  In answer I went to him and he wrapped me up. I rested my head on his heart. “Is this all very strange to you?”

  “You have no idea.”

  “Yet you remain. Such loyalty is a treasure beyond price.”

  “I’m not altogether sure who you are at the moment,” he admitted softly, “but somewhere in there is the woman I’ve loved for years. That’s enough for me.”

  From the deepest recess of my mind, a whisper came: I love you too. The human’s joy cascaded through me until it became my own. She was stronger than I’d realized, forcing me to feel what she felt.

  “I’m she, but more too.”

  “Yeah, I got that earlier. I could tell you were different when you came back for us.” He ran his hands along my sides, grazing the wound I’d taken in the arena.

  I hissed a breath and drew back.

  “You’re hurt. How bad is it?”

  I shrugged. In my natural form, such minor damage would have already healed. I had no idea how this hybrid thing I’d become would handle wounds, though certainly I was frail by comparison.

  “I’ll survive. He won’t.” With my gaze, I indicated the white-shrouded figure lying supine on the stones.

  “Don’t blame yourself for his choices. He loved you that much.”

  “I am more concerned with vengeance than guilt,” I said silkily.

  “Ah.” From his expression and the way he pulled back, folding his arms, I could tell I had disappointed him somehow, given an unexpected response.

  “There will be satisfaction in destroying those responsible.” I tried to explain, and I hated the impulse. A consort need not approve my actions; he needed only to submit to my will.

  “Do you remember where we first met?” he asked.

  The knowledge swam at the back of my head, so far away that I had to sink to retrieve it. “At a dry cleaner’s?”

  “Yes.” His voice went warm and husky with relief. “You returned my keys.”

  This didn’t seem like the time to admit I didn’t really remember, experienced none of the nostalgic emotions that colored his beautiful features. I had an attachment to him, but it was an echo of the woman in the back of my head, a haunting of something lost.

  His demeanor warmed, and he drew me back into his arms, careful to avoid my injured side. Eventually the dog pushed out of the bag and investigated the courtyard, and then christened a corner of it. Charming. We stood like that in silence, mourning the dead, until Greydusk returned.

  “It took multiple stops,” the Imaron said by way of greeting, “but I collected everything you need.”

  I nodded, but didn’t thank him, and stepped away from Chance.

  The ritual took hours. First I deployed the ingredients in proper order, then drew all the sigils, infused them with magick, and etched the body with matching runes using special ink rendered from blood. By the time I finished, I was panting and exhausted. Here I had no secret source running through the stones. Finally, I backed away from the meat that had been my father, and I spoke the command words in demontongue.

  The sigils flamed with darklight, incinerating his flesh in mighty bursts. I did Albert Solomon’s bravery the honor of not turning away. I watched every horrific moment, each puff of smoke, each breath of ash, until there was nothing left but cinder and char, chips of bone, and a great ruby that had been his heart.

  Sorrow crowned me as I bent and plucked it with careful fingertips. It burned with a cold, eternal fire. From this jewel, I would have a necklace made, something exquisite, so I never forgot this moment. My enemies would see it glimmer at my throat and fear my resolve.

  “Did you wish to speak a few words?” Greydusk asked.

  I shook my head and drew my athame. I pulled the power that wreathed me in sweet darkness and summoned a wind to scour the courtyard clean. The broken moon had risen, shining silver and blood, by the time the breeze died. It was wrong that Albie Solomon’s mortal remains should be scattered here, but I’d saved his soul, at least. If there was anything left of my mother, he could find her. The thought comforted me.

  “Let’s go inside and find a place to sleep,” I said.

  “I brought food,” the Imaron ventured. “I know this is not what you are accustomed to, my queen—”

  I moved my shoulders in a careless shrug. “It will be grand again. In time.”

  “When you have crushed your enemies,” he finished.

  “Precisely so.”

  The three of us passed from the courtyard to the darkness within. Greydusk unloaded a few parcels—the food he’d mentioned—and I found shards of metal suitable for my light spell. Soon the room I chose as the least wrecked offered a semblance of cheer in the form of tattered fabrics piled in a makeshift pallet.

  “Some queen,” I said with a bitter smile. “Of rats and rags.”

  Together, we ate in a primitive picnic. I didn’t wonder about the nature of the meat. It only mattered that it would sustain me and give me the strength to push forward with my plans. Tomorrow, the city would know the queen had ascended.

  Greydusk lay down outside the door, and Chance pulled me into his arms, offering his body as a shield against danger. It was an instinctive maneuver, driven by his imprinted instincts as first male, but I appreciated it nonetheless. Generally, chosen consorts were more concerned with personal gain and status. In my long memory, I could remember no one who offered such devotion—and it moved me.

  When she sleeps, I wake. But I can’t wrest control away permanently. Even those moments with my father were given to me like charity, not a result of my own strength. I can hear Chance breathing beside me. I can’t tell him that his loyalty touches me. I can’t control my own body anymore. This isn’t what she promised.

  I’m a spectator in my own life. We’re not a new person, joined. We’re two opposing forces, fighting for control. I can see everything she does, hear everything she says. But I can’t change it. I can’t protest.

  It’s dark here. The weight presses in on me, making me feel small and tiny. I can’t move. I never thought I could feel more helpless than I did in Oz’s hands, but I do now, sleeping in the arms of the man I love.

  In the morning, I woke alone, and I heard voices in the corridor beyond. Chance pitched his words low, but they carried. “What can you tell me about her new…personality? Is this permanent? Can she be
fixed?”

  Fixed? As if I were a defective piece of machinery. Anger rose to an icy point.

  “Her Majesty will never be human again.”

  From Chance’s sigh, those were not the tidings he’d hoped to hear. “Damn.”

  The demon sounded surprised. “You don’t find her strength more appealing?”

  “This incarnation has a certain…something. But she’d hate this, if she really knew, if she was herself.”

  “She made the choice.” Puzzlement laced the Imaron’s tone.

  “Sometimes she does things that are better for other people. You know she fought so we wouldn’t be harmed. And at some point in the battle, she had to let the queen in…or she would’ve died. I don’t believe she would’ve done that under any other circumstances.”

  “Be that as it may, it is done. There is no way back from here.”

  Those words resonated; they felt true.

  But Chance didn’t think so, apparently. “Really? I doubt you’d tell me even if there was some way to reverse this—to help her. You’ve always wanted the queen, and now you have her. You’re her right-hand man, and she’ll step on your throat to give you that special, irreplaceable thrill.”

  This could easily escalate. Chance sounded like he wanted a fight, and I couldn’t afford dissent when I had so few foot soldiers. I made a conspicuous noise as if I were just awakening. Silence fell.

  Then Chance stepped into the doorway. “Ready to start the day?”

  If he persisted in such informal address in public, I’d have to chastise him. For now, I let the intimacy stand. I gave my first orders.

  “Greydusk, issue a formal announcement. The palace is hiring. I will consider all comers, even those with cases waiting to be reviewed by the Eshur. I will accept murderers and thieves, so long as they are entirely mine.” I smiled, anticipating the day. “And who knows? Perhaps such minions will prove useful.”

  “As you say, my queen. What more?”

  “Procure suitable amenities at once. Furnishings, art, carpets, clothing. Confiscate all private Saremon holdings…you should encounter no trouble so long as you bear my seal.” I turned, still disheveled from the night, and went in search of the ruined study, where I had once signed proclamations and reviewed proposed amendments to caste law.

  My ancient desk had been reduced to splinters, but I remembered where I had hidden my seal from untrustworthy ministers. I opened a rosette in the stonework, where rested at its heart a ring graven with my mark. It had been centuries since this graced anyone’s hand. I passed it to Greydusk with proper reverence, and he fell to his knees. Chance stood propped against the doorjamb, watching with a troubled furrow of his brow.

  “Rise,” I commanded the Imaron. “You chose wisely when you promised to serve me. Your word remains sufficient, now and forever. You are my second, Greydusk of the Imaron caste. There is no station higher, even should I invest you with the mantle of a knight’s power.”

  Greydusk drew in a sharp breath. “You would slay the Imaron knight?”

  “If he displeases me or will not swear. Does that trouble you?”

  The demon displayed a toothy smile. “If he is foolish enough to resist you, my queen, then I would be honored to assume his role.”

  “Once you have done my will, send runners to each of the castes. Tell them I will expect them to swear to me in two weeks.”

  “Yes, Your Majesty.”

  “Carry a special message to Caim. Tell him he is to attend me at once…and that he should bring a gift, lest I grow wroth.”

  Greydusk inclined his head. “The human girl?”

  “Precisely so. No one touches what is mine.”

  True Justice

  My new servants came in droves.

  At first, they wanted to get a look inside the castle that had been sealed for so many centuries, and then they stayed, partly for the work and partly for the prestige of joining my court. They were the ragged and desperate, but raising them up would cement their loyalty. It wasn’t the poor I needed to fear; it was the rich and powerful who had something to lose.

  Through a combination of magick and hard labor, they worked to restore the structure to its former glory, and then decorated, using the goods Greydusk had confiscated from the Saremon. Beyond the gates, the city lay in turmoil, with pockets of resistance from those who truly thought they could repel the tide of change. The Eshur remained neutral, as I’d expected, waiting to see how it all played out before they committed. From the Phalxe I received an emissary and welcome gifts, though I wasn’t so foolish as to keep them.

  Never trust the Phalxe.

  When workers completed renovation of the throne room, I summoned the Hazo knight Caim into my hall. Though there had been no formal coronation, I needed none. I sat on the throne with a confidence borne of birthright, and I watched his approach with a cool, quiet smile.

  At length my silence unnerved him, and the enormous demon dropped to his knees on the red carpet that spread before him. “My queen, I beg mercy. The attack on your person was none of my doing.”

  I let the dread in him build. “Did you return the girl?”

  “Yes. She’s waiting in the antechamber.”

  At my gesture, the servant beside me ran to fetch Shannon. I intended to maintain proper decorum, but as the door opened, I pushed upright. My feet moved, and then I was running. I had to see her. This was an imperative beyond politics, beyond all other considerations.

  The girl was thin and pale, with dyed black hair tipped in pink. She wore all black, and she looked exhausted. But all in one piece. I stopped short of a crushing hug because some part of me wondered if she’d know me at all, a curious concern, but then her eyes widened, and she threw herself at me. I wrapped my arms around her and pushed out a shaky breath. Absurd, but I could nearly weep. That strong surge of emotion let me take over; the queen protested as I drove her back.

  “Are you all right?” I asked.

  “You came. I can’t believe it. Corine, you don’t know what I did—”

  “I do, actually. I handled your iPod.”

  “So you know I’m with Jesse?”

  I nodded, hugged her tight. Though there had been sacrifices, they’d been totally worth it to get to this moment. Even the time spent riding as a captive in my own body—that was worth it.

  Shan asked, “How are we getting out of here? And where is here?”

  “In due time,” I said. “I have your things.”

  I beckoned the servant and told him to fetch her backpack. Most of the items had stopped functioning—out of charge—but it should comfort her to get them back. That accomplished, I turned and strode back to where Caim waited on his knees. I stumbled as Ninlil wrested control from me. Conflict raged as to how to judge his fate. On one hand, a show of strength might be necessary. If I crushed him for what he’d done in the human realm and his part in holding Shannon hostage, it should chasten the Hazo. But one never knew how the warrior caste would react. Instead of being fearful, they might be roused to rebellion. I tapped a finger against my cheek, studying Caim where he knelt.

  “What should I do with you?” I asked aloud.

  He dared tilt his face back. The demon knight was a creature of terrifying violence and basest evil—and he feared me.

  The creature licked his tusks with a nervous tongue. “You cannot suffer me to live, my queen. For what I did, I must be stripped of my powers and destroyed. Otherwise all would take your mercy for weakness.”

  “Queen—,” Shannon started to say, but I lifted a hand, demanding silence.

  He was right. I could not begin my reign on a low note.

  “Because you were bound when you attacked me, I will permit you to choose your successor.”

  “I thought it might come to this,” Caim said heavily. “I brought him.”

  “Then let us see it done.”

  In short order, another Hazo joined us. I could tell he was younger, a little frightened at seeing the knight on
his knees. It would be good if he came into his power both fearing me and in my debt for raising him up. That beginning boded well.

  “Caim, you are judged guilty of treason,” I intoned. “Therefore, I strip you of your rank, your power, and your life.”

  “So be it,” the demon said softly.

  He had known he would not receive clemency, I thought, even with Shannon in his care, though if he had hurt her, his end would have been a thousand times as painful. I turned my attention to the other Hazo.

  “Are you ready to be invested as the new knight of your caste?”

  The young Hazo swallowed. “I am.”

  “What is your name?”

  “Zet.”

  “Kneel, Zet.” Once he did, I continued the ceremony, though it had been so long since I’d performed it. “Do you swear to serve me in all things, to set my will above your own, and obey my commands without question?”

  “I do so swear.”

  I slammed a hand on each of their brows. Instinct, as it came back to me. The power peeled away from Caim at my touch, and my body became the conduit, funneling incredible amounts of demon magick. It occurred to me, belatedly, that there might be consequences from this. My physical form was human and had not been created for such work. Regardless, I held on, even as the connection became painful. Darklight swirled about me in jagged pulses.

  Through raw agony, I maintained the link until Caim fell forward onto his clawed palms. New purpose radiated from the young Hazo knight. I turned and demanded, “A blade.”

  My servant brought one that had been mounted on the wall. “Zet, as your queen, I give your first command. Take his head.”

  Shannon opened her mouth to protest, but I pinned her with a look that made her step back. Her eyes wide, she gave me room to finish what I’d started. Zet rolled his head on a muscular neck and then took the sword; in one ferocious swing, he cleaved through Caim’s throat. The severed head bounced away in a spatter of blood. It was hard for me to remember why I had feared the creature. It seemed so weak and pitiful now.

  “Zet, you stand as the new knight. You have proven your strength and loyalty this day. So long as you remain steadfast, your caste need fear no reprisal from me. Soon, I will call upon the Hazo in my extermination of the Saremon.”