Demon Singer

by Nichols, Benjamin

  * * *

  Rondeaux had heard the voice in the sky. He was unconcerned as his Goddess was more than able to handle invisible voices. He remained unconcerned until he saw an enormous purple and black ball of fire descend on his troops three miles away.

  His control over the minds of his soldiers demanded a return. He could make them do as he pleased all the way to their deaths, but each death caused him pain. Something had raked across his forces and rendered so many of them dead so quickly it caused him to gasp and he was forced to sit down, holding his head for fear of it splitting apart.

  Though he recovered quickly, he was still reeling from the blow when this fireball made a crater a half mile wide in the middle of his troops. The shock from all those deaths at once knocked him completely out.

  * * *

  Lyric opened his eyes. His voice was tired, his body was tired and his heart was tired. Acheron appeared beside him and slid down the wall at the same time he did.

  “Why,” he croaked, “am I so tired?”

  The demoness was panting, and covered in sweat.

  “You are a nuke in a world of pea shooters, Lover.” She reminded him with a smile. “Now everyone else knows it too. Problem is, our power isn’t limitless and you gave an awful lot of yourself before you began to draw so heavy on me. Basically, we need a big dinner and a nap.”

  “Do you think they’ll leave?” He turned his head to look at Cadence who slid down the wall on his other side.

  She shrugged and tapped her temple.

  “It depends on if Rondeaux still has control?” He guessed. She nodded.

  “I suppose we’ll find out soon enough.”

  “Singer!” General Sabre was striding toward Lyric. The soul singer got wearily to his feet and put out a hand to help Cadence, which to his surprise she accepted. He looked at her closely and saw she looked haggard.

  “Are you wounded?” He asked in alarm. She smiled slightly and shook her head, gesturing for him to pay attention to the general. Unwillingly, Lyric turned to Sabre. “What can I do for you, general?”

  “Seems like you’ve already done it,” the man replied with something close to a smile. “Your presence has been requested in the war room. I have a large contingent of the Milleytes Lux heading over here to defend the western walls.”

  Lyric nodded wearily, and followed a soldier to the war room. Hoping this meeting would go better than the last one.

  30 ALOFTH HING’ED THEW

  “Master Singer, Lyric. We owe you a debt of gratitude. Had you not intervened things could have gone very badly for Markhato.” The black bearded king greeted him with far more cheer than was reasonable.

  “Your highness flatters me with a title I have not earned, sir.” Lyric sat without waiting to be invited. “I’m simply a soul singer who’s completed his seventh measure and is training for the eighth. I am not the equal of Master’s Fishne and Chab.”

  Combover frowned at the mention of their names.

  “Those two worthy gentlemen have taken their leave, ostensibly to secure support from your Guild in our time of need. No one has heard nor seen from anyone from the Singer’s Guild since they left.”

  Lyric wondered what was going on at the Guild.

  “Lyric,” his grandfather spoke and Lyric heard the echo of his mother’s voice. “We want to thank you for what you’ve done to protect our city. I don’t know the details of what has occurred between you and your Guild but we have reached the conclusion that while you may not meet their standards, you’ve more than exceeded ours.”

  Lyric flushed, not certain how to feel. Loyalty to his Guild was so firmly ingrained in him he couldn’t ignore the slight in the man’s voice. On the other hand, this was the father of his beloved mother, and so must deserve his respect if for no other reason than that.

  He was spared the pressure of answering by the arrival of an out of breath messenger. The King’s all looked displeased and the enormous butler was preparing to remove the man but he blurted out.

  “General Sabre sent me, sir, he says the Milleytes Lux cannot hold the city! Monsters are approaching from the east and there are more soldiers than trees in the west. He says…” the messenger paused and blushed furiously. “General Sabre says: ‘If the Singer doesn’t get his ass to the wall and do something we’ll all be able to discuss how the situation might have been handled differently while we’re roasting on spits in hell.’ - Sirs.”

  Lyric didn’t wait to hear what the Kings decided, he made his way from the war room with Cadence on his heels and Acheron somewhere ahead. They burst out of the top tower of the palace where the rotunda allowed them a view of the eastern face of the mountain.

  “What the hell are those?” he asked, ignoring the arrival of the Kings and various advisors behind them.

  “Experiments.” Acheron replied. “Someone’s been playing and I’d guess it’s the same innovative genius that put together your crocodile-woman.”

  They looked down on giants. The longer Lyric stared at them the more he understood the horror of what he was seeing. Whoever created these monsters had combined the size and tusks of enormous elephants with the general shape of men. The result was twenty-foot behemoths that were bearing down on the city in strides at least fifteen feet in length. There were easily a hundred of them and Lyric didn't think the walls of the city would pose much of a challenge to them.

  Looking to Acheron he asked,

  "Alofth Hing’ed Thew?"

  Acheron grabbed Lyric by the back of the head and kissed him.

  "Don't die, Lover." She winked at Cadence and smoked out.

  Lyric watched the approaching monstrosities and saw the first one fall. One of his legs was suddenly detached and crashing into the next one's face. Turning to the kings and servants he smiled wryly at their gaping expressions.

  "I guarantee there's more than what you see out there coming. Acheron will give them pause and allow your soldiers an opportunity to prepare a defense for this side of Markhato." Addressing the messenger he said, "take us to the west side the quickest way you know."

  The young man bowed to the kings before sprinting out the door. Lyric ignored them entirely as he followed.

  * * *

  "Sir, you should rest. You're exhausted and obviously suffering." Rondeaux's salacious assistant looked at her general with worry. Rondeaux smiled at Janessa. He'd always liked her. She was efficient, hard working and completely loyal. Truth be told, she could be a bit melancholy at times, but everyone had their quirks. He'd rescued ‘Nessa a few years ago from some of his men who thought it fitting that a man in uniform use a helpless woman for sport. He'd had each of them and their bunkmates executed that day and hired her as his assistant that evening.

  Never once had Rondeaux had to use his gift on ‘Nessa. His entire inner circle had pledged their lives to him and he didn't use his gift on any of them. He’d begun the mind controlled drafting of soldiers at the behest of his goddess. He’d never felt the need to force loyalty before. He feared he was being impious for thinking it, but he felt like it was an abuse of power. He knew the cost would be heavy, by investing himself into so many others, human and nonhuman alike, but no cost was too great for the glory of Goddess Melody. Pulling himself back from his musings, he focused on Janessa.

  “I will be fine, Miss Sery. Please send the word out to the troops, I’ll be addressing them shortly.”

  Janessa Seri looked helplessly at the love of her life and nodded her acquiescence, quietly leaving the tent.

  Rondeaux drank his coffee, so hot it burned all the way to his stomach. He was taking longer than usual to recover from the blast he took at the death of his men. Not too surprising, considering the number he lost. Rising stiffly to his feet, he straightened his spine and forced a genuine looking smile across his face. It was time to brace his soldiers against an unknown and suddenly fearsome enemy. Though they’d been warned of the violence and death they would face in service to their goddess, the vast majorit
y of them had never seen war on any real level. The "soldier on" speech would be good. They still had the numbers. They still had the dream. They had the strength of believing in their cause. Above all, they had the assurance of Goddess Melody that the war belonged to them. Confident, poised, unstoppable, that's the kind of leader they needed now. Time to deliver.

  * * *

  Cadence touched Lyric's arm and directed his attention to the trees of to their left. Since Acheron blew up their hiding place, the enemy didn't bother trying to mask their movements. The front rows of trees remained intact, while acres behind them fell in a matter of hours.

  "Weapons, machines, tools, whatever they need, they're taking and making." Sabre stood on Lyric's other side, elbows resting on the stone. “Any decent military force will be able to make siege machines and weapons from natural resources. Which just makes them more of a pain in the ass when they reach our walls.” Lyric pointed to the commotion in their left Cadence had noticed. Sabre nodded. "Bastards are scouting weak spots. No worries, my men already have them covered."

  As if on cue, there was a distant twang and the movement stopped. One of the culprits stumbled out of the trees, sprouting an arrow from his chest. Another twang sounded and a handful of arrows joined the first. The man fell and didn't get back up.

  “Acheron is slowing down the elephant men on the east side, but she’s exhausted. She won’t be able to handle all of them alone. I’m not as strong without her and Cadence and I are both spent from the first fight. Tell me about your men.”

  “They will fight to the end, but the Milleytes Lux has never stood against a million enemies. At full capacity with the support of this city’s three soul singers, I’d be less than optimistic. As it is, we lost one of our brightest commanders in that surprise attack along with his entire command. That’s a blow to morale as well as numbers. And no offense, we all saw what you did, but you’re only one singer. Besides, the secret is out that you’re the Demon Singer. A handful of my men are okay with that, the rest think you belong on the other side of the battle line.”

  “And what about you, General Sabre? Where do you think I should stand?” Lyric asked flatly.

  “Don’t get your panties in a twist over me, boy. I think you’re young and probably a bit crazy. But this war would be over already if it weren’t for you. I don’t know about the whole demon thing, but I don’t much care. As long as you’re not against me, I figure you’re for me.”

  Lyric nodded.

  “You’re not wrong. I am a bit crazy. Cadence,” he turned to his protector. “I’d like to do something stupid, care to join me?” Cadence drew her knives and gestured for him to lead the way. “General, warn your men. The fighting may begin soon and if it does, it will be fierce.” Turning with Cadence, he ran to the edge of the battlements and jumped.

  * * *

  Acheron was pacing herself, not killing the elephant men outright, but crippling them as fast as possible. She was picking up a familiar scent and it did not make her happy. It also meant she needed to keep some strength in reserve. She found it interesting that the creatures she was ripping apart screamed much higher than she would have expected. She supposed Lyric would be appalled if he saw what she was doing to what were once human beings, but all’s fair…

  Suddenly the demoness was flying through the air, but not in a direction she’d intended. A large gaping wound in her side was causing her physical body some discomfort. She’d heal of course, but healing took time and energy. Something stopped her sideways motion and she realized it was a hand. A very large hand. A hand that began squeezing. She tried smoking out and discovered she couldn’t. The hand continued to tighten and the elephant man who’d caught her was bringing her face awfully close to a pointy tusk. Yanking a hand free she ignored the spasm from the hole in her side and grabbed the end of the tusk. This bastard was even bigger than the others. Looking over her shoulder, she saw a handful of the elephant men had already passed by and were approaching the city wall. Oh well, she’d done what she could. Turning her attention back to survival the demoness called on her waning strength and snapped three feet off the end of the tusk. The hand continued to squeeze and none of her magic was working. She tried flaring her demon fire but it wasn’t nearly as potent as usual and the pain in her side was hurting something awful. What the hell was going on? Focusing her strength, she drove the tusk into the hand. A high-pitched shriek greeted her strike and the hand opened far enough for her to jump out and fall heavily to the ground. She immediately tried to smoke out, but it didn't work.

  This is just annoying. She thought as she twirled to her feet. The giant was trying to step on her. Idiot. She side stepped the clumsy crushing foot and ripped off his big toe. The same high-pitched scream came from this monster over its mutilated foot. The elephant man came crashing down to one knee, Acheron took advantage of this posture to run up the creature's other leg and leap at its face. She shot wide on purpose, digging a hand into the outside corner of his left eye, grasping the edge of his eye socket. Allowing momentum to swing her body in a tight circle around the back of his head, she dug her boot heels into his back, exerted tremendous force and heard a satisfyingly wet popping sound as she snapped the elephant man's neck.

  The huge beast seemed to fall forever as the demoness rode him into the dirt. She tried to roll gracefully off as the body landed and ended up skidding in a heap as exhaustion and her wound treated her poorly.

  Exploring her corporeal form she realized the power Lyric sucked out of her earlier had a far more significant impact on her than she'd thought. She needed rest and time to heal. She winced as she touched the hole in her side and summoned a brief and small burst of flame to cauterize the wound.

  Another shriek sounded close and startled her into a sitting position before she realized it had come from her.

  A quiet footfall reached her ear. Looking behind her, she saw Logi Condeve standing silently, bearing her brand on his cheek and a black eye patch. She chuckled.

  "Good timing, Logi. I'm going to need some juice." The fairy stepped closer and stared impassively at her with his good eye. "The good news is, because you're a fairy, odds are you'll survive. The bad news is this kiss is going to suck unlike anything you've experienced." The enslaved fairy dropped heavily to his knees at her side and sighed wearily.

  Acheron pulled him close and pressed her mouth against his. Immediately she sensed his desire spike even though he must know what was coming. She grinned and began relentlessly sucking out his life force. The agony of having your spirit ripped from you in small pieces is a unique and horrifying experience. Every human she'd done it to died in the process. Fairies were made entirely of spirit. They formed corporeal bodies by pulling together air and fragrance to a solid form. They were also delicious. Acheron enjoyed Logi's torment as she fed to restore some of her strength.

  31 SURPRISE

  Lyric sang a brief phrase that allowed Cadence and him to land lightly on their feet a few hundred feet from the tree line. He strode confidently and openly toward the trees. He wanted them to see him coming. He wanted them to see he was unafraid and completely in control.

  Listening closely to the song of creation he hummed along with it, developing a variation on a familiar theme he'd concocted after his experience in the diner. As before, anyone who approached was repelled violently, but his rewrite also caused any deadly missiles hurled at them to turn into brightly colored Gerber daisies. He kept the Song low key, saving his voice and strength for what may lie ahead.

  It took little time for the enemy to see their efforts to kill or even slow the Singer and his companion to be pointless. Before long, Lyric and Cadence were striding into the enemy camp, completely surrounded, but unmolested. Without hesitation, he headed for a small simple black tent. Rondeaux was standing in front of it, muscular arms crossed comfortably.

  "A pleasure to see you again, Mr. something. And Cadence," his eyes flashed with a hungry gleam as he regarded Lyric's silent protec
tor, "you didn't say goodbye."

  Cadence smiled as she flipped him off. Rondeaux didn't even blink as he turned his attention back to the Singer.

  "General Rondeaux, I'm here to offer you an opportunity to surrender and save innocent lives." Lyric paid close attention to the sounds around him as he spoke. Something was off. There was a sourness in the air that had become all too familiar.

  Rondeaux cocked an eyebrow.

  "How generous. I appreciate the offer but must respectfully decline. I'm here to accomplish a purpose and see no reason to adjust my course. I'm certain you agree."

  Lyric had been preparing himself since Acheron brought him out of Rondeaux's thrall the last time. He'd begun fashioning an experimental shield to protect him from Rondeaux's influence. He sang it into being and strengthened it daily, striving to make it self-sustaining. It didn't last long, but he'd managed to build its lifetime to an hour after he stopped singing. He started the Song when he leapt from the wall. After his walk into the enemy camp, he had about forty-five minutes left. He was grateful because the Keylac's wine didn't seem to be very effective. He could feel Rondeaux pushing on his shield. He smiled at the general.