Crimson Sword Stalker

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by Morgan Blayde

I shifted my glare to her. “You are my woman. Don’t ever forget that.”

  She lowered her eyelashes, a pretense of shyness which I knew she’d abandoned ages ago. “Yes, my lord.”

  “We’re the same,” Kain said. “You are my long-lost soul. When you sleep with her, it is as if I sleep with her, too.”

  “No, it really isn’t.” I amplified my glare at him, which only increased his smile. He enjoyed thinking he could rile me. “Don’t ever cross that line. Dragon’s don’t share their prize property.”

  He turned and cast a covetous glance at my Mustang. “I know, which is why it must be stolen instead.”

  “Some thefts are more easily forgiven than others.” I had a thought that made me smile. “You know, if I am your soul’s rebirth, I am you. That means that on my wedding night with Gloria, you will be committing incest with her.”

  The humor left his face. “I hadn’t thought of that. Thank you ever so much for pointing it out.” He bowed formally to Selene. “I shall convey your answer to Gloria.” He walked off in a snit, my crimson sword stalker. Unfortunately, I knew he’d be back.

  “What does Gloria want from you?” I asked.

  Selene’s face glowed with excitement. “She’s asked me to throw her bachelorette party, and to help her plan the wedding. It’s sweet of her to include me in things. It shows she will respect my position as head wife.”

  I had an unpleasant thought. How will Izumi take the news? I wonder if I have to tell her. She’s going to be stuck in Fairy most of the time, ruling in my name, but secrets do escape. I suppose it’s better if she hears it from me.

  Selene looked past me.

  That reminded me. Ringo and Onya were waiting patiently, doubtless glad I’d chased off the vampire lord. Vampires weren’t my favorite people either, except for Gloria. Most blood-suckers have a vain tendency to make everything center on them, when it should all be about me instead.

  I angled my body and gestured, making introductions. “You know Ringo. This is Onya, the leader and Wise Woman of the Gator Clan. Onya, this is my wife, Selene, Goddess of the Red Moon.”

  Onya bowed and straightened. “I am honored. I have seen your moon in our sky and wondered at the portent.”

  “It is a sign of a changing age. A great threat approaches. I hope we may count on your support.” Selene smiled, inviting an oath of fealty.

  Onya shot me a quick glance, then returned her full attention to Selene. “Speaking of binding ties, there is a little dragon blood in our people. We could lend greater support if there were more.”

  “What are you suggesting?” Selene asked.

  “We have a few young maidens of an age to lay their first eggs. If you might consider studding your male out to us for a while, it would certainly improve our breed. In the end, that would benefit you as well.”

  This conversation was getting out of hand. “I don’t do ugly women.”

  “Our women are all lovely creatures!” Onya protested.

  Yeah, right.

  “Don’t mind him,” Selene said. “He likes to pretend that he runs everyone and everything. You know how males are.”

  Onya nodded sagely. “Yes, I do.”

  Selene said, “When the time comes, we can just lull his human mind into a deep restful sleep and let his inner dragon out to play with his body.”

  Golden eyes opened in the back shadows of my mind as my inner dragon snapped awake. Wait! Now it’s all right for me to fuck humans if I’m not in dragon form? I can’t say I like the rules changing all the time…

  Me either, I added.

  …but I might be willing to help out if it’s for the sake of the world and all. And the girls aren’t too ugly.

  Damn! What happened to the control I had over my life?

  Selene reached over and patted me on the back. “Are you just now realizing that great power brings greater limitations? It is a paradox all gods learn.”

  I shifted an irritated stare to Ringo.

  “What did I do?” he asked.

  “Nothing. That’s the problem. You’ve stood around and let me get sober. That’s never a good thing. You had better know a few good bars around here.”

  He grinned. “I do.”

  “Then what are we waiting for?” I stalked off toward the Mustang. Colt and Vivian had drifted off and were gone. So was my car.

  “Kain! You bastard!”

  THIRTY-FOUR

  “I like to share. When I

  hurt, everyone needs to.”

  —Caine Deathwalker

  I formed a vertical disk of shadow, imagining Anubis’ temple where I’d lain on a rug, waiting to be abused. I shoved my will into the disk, demanding a path to my destination. The disk became a portal. Wrapped in shadow, I stepped into the portal. It wrenched me away and then collapsed into me, the disk reabsorbed. Still in a second skin of darkness, I stood just inside the entrance of the temple, looking around. I strolled to the side and followed a wall, staying away from the fire pit with its bile-green, serpentine flames that slithered more than leaped. The throne waited, empty, the dining table abandoned as well.

  Between the fire pit and throne, Anubis and the Red Rider faced off, swords clashing languidly, the first exploratory feeling-out of opponents. Anubis seemed to have trouble handling his sword, but then he wasn’t a god of war. And the Rider wore chain mail bikini that barely constrained her bountiful tits. Kane had been right; they were her best features. Her thigh muscles were heavy, chiseled. Her arms were slim, but had no trouble brandishing a foot-wide sword few normal men could have lifted.

  Using my dragon hearing, I listened to Anubis grunting in time to his blows. And all the while, the Rider murmured suggestive comments to throw off his concentration. The writing was on the wall: Anubis would lose, and badly as well. His dream of his cock going where no man or god had gone before was on life-support.

  “Want to rip the metal away? Want to paw these tits of mine, want to chew and lick them like a good puppy?” she asked. “Do you take your temple whores doggie style. Tell me what gets you off? If you tempt me enough, I might let you win.”

  No chance of that. She’s playing with him. Fanning his hopes, feeding his desires. And I have the distraction I need; I doubt his godly senses will leave the Rider’s fine ass any time soon.

  I left the Great Hall and passed through an empty kitchen. I found a small smoke room where meats were curing and grabbed a haunch of cow. From there, I hunted out the shadows, slipping into my god-form with blades of golden light fanning from my back. I floated off the floor, listening to the shadows as they brought me their secrets.

  The treasure room occupied an open space on bottom floor of the temple, deep underground where the air carried more moisture. You breathed the wet. Damp beaded the walls and occasionally trickled to the floor. The vault chamber had no door. That was because it had a forty-eight-foot golden snake coiled in front the archway entrance. His head was black flint. His eyes orbs of gold. There were no were-jackal guards or skeleton warriors. The snake was considered sufficient.

  Of course, I recognized the creature: Apep, the Devourer of Light, a chaos creature born from the umbilical cord of the chief god Amon-Ra, god of light, pillar of order. Anubis thought this bad ass creature sufficient to keep thieves away, but in my case, he’d chosen wrong.

  I walked toward the snake.

  It lifted its head and stared. Its black tongue flicked out, tasting the vibrations from my footsteps. It knew the steps of Anubis and could tell I wasn’t its master. Apep bared fangs and hissed a warning in case I was a lost servant.

  While still some distance away, I stopped and shifted to full dragon form. The great space accommodated this. I hissed back at the snake, baring my teeth, beating my wings a couple times as I let lightning play across golden scales.

  With another step, I shed that form and took on my godly shadow-shape with golden wings of light stabbing out of my back. I walked closer, then shed that form to be Cain Deathwalker—less
intimidating, I thought.

  I stopped close to Apep. The creature peered at me but made no effort to strike. I think it saw that such a move would be its death.

  “Greetings, my brother.” My voice echoed.

  “Brother?” The snake’s black tongue flicked out again. “How am I brother to any dragon?”

  “I am Cain Deathwalker, shadow mage, few High King, demon lord, dragon lord, and thief of crowns. I am walking chaos, born to darkness as much as you, my brother. You ought to recognize a kindred spirit when you see one.”

  “Why are you here, one that walks with death?”

  “Anubis has offended me. I have struck him down with my sword, but it is not enough of a punishment. I have decided to take his precious things for my own.”

  “An uncommon thief.”

  “Don’t say that like it’s a bad thing. Even the lowliest thief serves chaos, bringing disorder into the lives of the rich and powerful who possess way too much arrogance. Surely, you have seen this sin in Anubis?”

  “I have, yet I serve him. Would you have me fail in my job.”

  “Everyone fails when confronted by too great a difference in power. The time of the old gods is passed. Swear allegiance to me and I will take you to a crimson world where you can rule lesser monsters, a god among them. Have you never thought that you could do better than this?”

  “I have considered this.”

  “While you’re trapped here, guarding someone else’s treasure, there are succulent giant bugs running around the surface. Has anyone suggested letting you go sate your appetite upon them?”

  “No one.”

  “Sad, holding out on you this way. And soon, the Red Rider will have exterminated them. Your chance will be gone.”

  Its black-flint head bobbed. “What you say is true.”

  “You know, the Red Moon I’ll take you too is the mother of such hell-spawn. You could hunt to your soul’s delight, so long as you get along with my wife, the Goddess of the Red Moon. She might even give you wings to fly. Aren’t you tired of slithering? Have you ever thought how much better it would be to own the sky?”

  “You can do these things.”

  “I can. I am good to my friends.”

  “And we are friends?”

  “The best that treasure can buy.”

  “So, I must betray my master.”

  “Who is he to be a master of chaos? He is death. Death is the ultimate expression of order. He is unworthy. And it would be an act of chaos such as this world has never seen. Your name is faded and covered with dust by time. Is it not time to revive your legend, that worlds may tremble?”

  “You tempt me sorely.”

  “I speak only the truth. It is my new superpower.”

  “If it is to be done, let it be done with haste.”

  I gestured to the side. A shadow portal opened. I punched its heart with power, opening it to the front courtyard of Selene’s mansion. A cadre of her black iron gargoyles marched in from the other side. They formed ranks behind me. Waiting for orders.

  I smiled at Apep. “Go and enjoy your new home. Find a nest in the thorn groves, live as you were meant to, my brother. Go and run amok.”

  “I think I will.” Apep slithered to the gate and passed through.

  I gave him time to clear the mansion area, then called to the gargoyles. “Okay, boys, everything must go. Get to work.”

  The bile-green sky thickened as hunter-green clouds rolled in at high speed. Thunder rumbled halfheartedly. A few fat drops of rain splatted the dust. More rain looked probable.

  Part of Anubis’ skeleton army surrounded the village and patrolled the dirt road up to the obelisk and over to the temple. The flooded fields thrived, having been preserved from the bugs.

  Elsewhere across the country side, I’d seen hacked up chunks of hell-bug scattered everywhere. The Red Centipede Rider had earned her wages. I saw a hell of an opportunity here; Selene could sabotage the ecology of assorted hell-dimensions and the Rider could sell her extermination services to them. Both ladies would clean up.

  Skeletons looked me over as I crossed into the village, heading for the public square. None of them tried to stop me.

  Guess I don’t look like a bug.

  I didn’t look like Caine Deathwalker either. I wore an illusion of a jackal-headed priest in a white tunic and sandals. The buildings here were clean and in good repair. No open sewers. Anubis would have been embarrassed with his holdings otherwise. But monotony reigned as well. No window boxes, no grassy parks or playgrounds. No splashes of color. Place could have used at least a few yellow-footed, feral roosters running around, fluffing russet feathers, chasing the hens.

  The Market Square enlivened the village. Small stands displayed dried fish, figs, pots of flour and cooking oil, plus bags of assorted grains. From what I heard through a translation spell I wore, a lot of this came from private fields and farms. The big field behind the temple belonged to Anubis. I wondered if he paid them anything to work it or if that was their expected service to their god.

  I moved on to a corner of the square occupied by a raised wooden deck with a canvas tarp suspended overhead; a makeshift stage. Oil lamps suspended on pole provided a good amount of light. From the smell, the oil came from fish. A small crowd had gathered. A small rug with a wooden bowl lay at the lip of the stage. A few small coins had been tossed inside. Of course, they all had pictures of a jackal head on them.

  I found a spot to sit, a bench under a gnarled tree. Seeing a priest, the lowly villagers gave me plenty of space. As I watched, a man walked in from off-stage. It was Kesi, the actor I’d met in Anubis’ dungeon.

  The meager audience stilled and grew attentive as he spoke: “Through a misunderstanding, I recently found imprisoned. I underwent a trial of faith, a challenge of courage, and Anubis rewarded me with my freedom, in his ever-benevolent wisdom. Here before you, with the aid of an apprentice actor, we shall take you through those events.”

  The apprentice isn’t even getting billing. How sad.

  I’d lived this story already and had a suspicion that the version I was about to see had little to do with reality.

  Kesi picked up a ram’s horn and played a flatulent note that quavered into extinction. A reed mat dropped down, a stage curtain. I heard feet slapping the stage as the two actors brought in props and took up positions. A moment later, the curtain rose in a series of jerks. I saw Kesi tying off a cord to keep the curtain up. And the scene began.

  Wearing cloth chains, the apprentice moaned his despair in a rather heavy-handed way. “Oh, woe, woe, I am undone! I ascended to the heavens and lifted my proud heart against the true god Anubis, and now—I must suffer for my wicked sins.”

  That’s supposed to be me?

  Kesi lifted his head, wearing chains of his own. “Set your poor foolish eyes upon me and borrow from the cup of my steadfast endurance, oh miserable cretin.”

  “Oh, do not befriend me, kind stranger. I have offended the mighty Anubis and deserve far worse.”

  “Be strong, little worm, for the one who has cast you down may in time grow merciful and lift his foot from your throat. You must fight to live for that day.”

  “I tremble to reach for hope. Should it fail, I cannot survive. If only I had kissed the feet of Anubis when I had the chance to be so wise.”

  “Wait!” Kesi said. “Anubis comes!”

  The apprentice turned his face from the crowd, acting like he needed to sniff his armpit. “I cannot face such glory. I dare not.”

  Kesi stared as if Anubis had indeed miraculously appeared. “My god, my strength, you appear before me. Let me adore you as I die!” He held an astonished gaze, letting beats of silence pass while he listened to a voice no one else heard.

  His face bloomed with hope. The cloth chains fell away from him. He climbed to his feet and tottered a few steps. “I am free? I am free! Praise Anubis! His mercy endures forever.”

  Fuck this! I can’t take any more.

 
; I covered myself in shadow and used it to lift myself high in the air. A fast change left me in dragon form.

  My dragon happily upchucked hot. copper-tasting lightning and onto the actor. Kesi exploded. Pieces of him splattered the audience.

  After a long stunned few moments, the apprentice shed his fake chains. Shaking, he stood and wiped gory fragments of dead-actor off him. White-faced, he faced the crowd and spoke: “T-thus the mantle passes from a fading star to one ascending to a brighter glory. It is Anubis’ will, that I exalt his noble name. Therefore, he has spared me.”

  I sighed. The more things change, the more they stay the same. Well, time to go home and take a bath in my new-found treasure.

  I shifted into god-form and opened a shadow portal to the Red Moon. Hovering on the threshold, I heard the jackal god howl in anguish. The sound filled his temple and belled outward across the countryside.

  Anubis has just lost the fight against the Rider or discovered the theft of his treasure room. Either way, it is music to my ears.

  I flew on golden wings into the portal. Many an unknown battle still laid in wait. But for now…

  Life is good. And it is good to be a god. And better to be a rich god. And the sooner the world knows about me, the sooner they can offer me a goats and lambs.

  My inner dragon opened golden eyes in my mind. A few cows wouldn’t hurt.

  EPILOGUE:

  THE STORM BREAKS

  I walked out past the stage curtain, crossing the stage to where Spenser Browne sat behind his big desk. The crowd’s response to my mystery appearance was low-key; they didn’t know who I was or why I’d been scheduled in place of some hot young Hollywood starlet pushing a new movie. I wore my trademark black suit with red handkerchief poking out of the breast pocket, and an open-throated blood-red shirt. I wore my black steel-toed boots because, no matter the occasion, you never know when you’re going to have stomp some liberal snowflake into submission.

  Evil must always be opposed.

 

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