Demon Lord 5: Silver Crown King (33 page)

The bleeding was mild.  I closed the wound with a little flash of
dragon fire
into my shoulder.

Okay, bitch.  That’s one for you, but paybacks are a comin’.

I summoned a PX4 Storm with a full clip of mercury-tipped rounds, and formed a round shield of shadow magic to deflect further arrows sent my way.  Springing out from cover I ran toward direction the shot had come, screaming like a madman.

Damn, this is fun!

THIRTY-FIVE

“Life always springs from pain.”

                                                   —Caine Deathwalker

The next arrow hit my shadow shield and skittered off.  The angle indicated she’d moved after her first shot.  I guessed she’d do the same a second time, trying to catch me on a blind side. Anticipating her movement, I overcorrected my course.  The third arrow came straight into my charge, showing I was right.  The head-on impact caused the third arrow to embed itself deeply.  I emptied my magazine, sent my PX4 Storm back to my armory for a fresh clip, and summoned it back.

I heard a gasp.

I smiled. 
Got you
.

However keeping her was the problem.  She was just going to go into a total-dark conversion to keep eluding me—but maybe I could beat her with a little subterfuge. 

And a lightning charge
, my inner dragon said. 
I’ll build and hold it for as long as I can.

“Okay,” I said.  “I can work with that.”

I reached the point she’d last fired from.  There was blood on the flagstones.  I eyed two of the massive, square pillars that were close by.  She could have taken refuge behind either one, cloaking herself with shadows.  A lot of other enemies would have given up the game by now, figuring they could come back later with better odds and more backup.  I sensed that this Old One was a lot like me; invested in the kill, she was loathe to give up just because things had grown difficult.  I’d let other fey give oath and change sides to support me.  Sadly, I couldn’t do this with the Dark Queen. 

She’s too much like me to ever trust.  She could very well give oath, then betray me anyway reasoning that it was in my best interest to be betrayed, so I’d become even more formidable—if I survived. 
It was mental gymnastics that only an ancient fey, or someone like me, could embrace:
Betrayal as an act of loyalty
.

My inner dragon said,
Cool.  That slipperiness is what I like best about you, Child of the Village.  You are your father’s son.

“Careful, you’ll turn my head.”  There was little of my earlier dragon fire burning in this part of the battlefield, so I tucked my gun in my waistband to free up a hand, knelt, and summoning a dozen military-style glow sticks from my armory.  I bent them sharply and flung them out into the darkness, creating zones of cold-green radiance.  She’d think this a form of sorcery. 

I raised my voice and called out.  “Hey, Shadow Bitch!”

Silence answered.  She wasn’t going to betray her position with me so close.  Pressing her, it seemed like I had the momentum, but I didn’t forget that she was much faster, unless my gunfire had changed that.  If I wasn’t careful, she’d let me run her down until she caught me.  I needed to lure her out, making her think the battle was over and she was safe.

I yelled again.  “Okay, this isn’t getting us anywhere.  We’re just whittling away at each other, taking damage, but settling nothing.  And I have a victory celebration to get back to.  Tell you what, I’m just going to use my shadow magic to portal back to my kingdom.  I can afford to deal with you another day.  Meanwhile, why don’t you think about how much stronger your position would be if you were on my side instead of fighting me.”

I tossed the shield off into the darkness.  I didn’t have the power to make a portal, but I
did
have a special tattoo that used demon magic instead of dragon magic:
Demon Wings
.  It was already warmed up, the cost prepaid.  I invoked the spell with a flush of raw magic.  I didn’t go anywhere, or cloak myself with invisibility, but to her perspective, it would seem like I’d popped out of her world.  This was the effect of my
You-don’t-see-me
spell.  It didn’t just fool the eye, but the ear, and even sense of touch—all by playing a head game on the world at large.

My ambush was laid.  The rest was waiting.  “How’s that charge coming?” I asked my inner dragon.

The golden dragon eyes in the back shadows of my mind were brighter than normal. 
Building nicely, so if she waits too long, we’ll be in trouble.  Even I have my limits in the power I can contain
.

“Let me know before you have to release.”

Several minutes really dragged out. I sensed a darkening of the air, a thickening of presence if not substance.  The green chem lights I’d tossed out were simultaneously dimming.  She’d gone to her intangible form to check out my position.  If my spell was strong enough, she wouldn’t feel me at all. 

I felt the excitement of an approaching kill, and my hands trembled.  Part of that was also the strain on my system as my nerves conducted enough electricity to fry a kraken.  I was amazed that beams of light weren’t shooting out of my eyes and ass.

My inner dragon said,
Caine, soon!

“Hold on just a little more.  She’s coming in,” I growled.

Darkness absorbed my abandoned shield as she took back her arrow.  And then she was fey, humanoid in form, wearing veils of shadow.  She limped, favoring her right leg where a bullet had grazed her.  In the assumed privacy of the moment, her true face showed.  Her face was youthful except for hard lines that bracketed her mouth, and the shadows under her eyes that revealed exhaustion.  I think it had been a very long time since she’d been pushed as hard as I’d done.  She’d grown complacent, careless, and now she was going to die for it.

Caine!
My inner dragon called. 
Now?

“Now!”

Brutal golden light washed away the darkness.  Golden jags of lightning leapt the gap, hitting the Old One, some of them going on to slam a pillar.  Her substance exploded, her blood boiling away, her flesh blackening, smoking, chunks of her blasted to nothing.  There was a swift fragment of a scream, then only the echo of thunder, and lumps of roasted meat for the rats. 

Not that they’d thank me. 
Ingrates
.

Speaking of which
, my inner dragon said,
you could thank me.

Words were cheap; they cost me nothing.  “Thank you.” 

What now?

“Our work isn’t quite done.  With the queen dead, the land will be in flux.  We don’t want just anybody taking over.  If we handle this right, we’ll neutralize this territory as a threat while sending a hell of a message to anyone thinking of messing with me again.”

There was a shiver in the air, a peeling like church bells in the distance.  I knelt and used my claw hand to gouge up a flagstone.  Both palms went flat to the cold earth now revealed.  The same way I’d commune with my own kingdom, I poured my awareness into this fey kingdom.  I called its up-for-grabs crystal heart, sensing its dark hunger burrowing up to greet me.  Others would be coming, wanting this prize, and they would have to deal with me.

The bare soil bucked up into my hands.  A black diamond mass shook off the dirt, emitting a shadow-mist that acted like light, dancing around the stone, caressing my hands.  I gripped the stone, but didn’t synchronize it to the rhythms of my lifeforce.  Instead, I waited, toning down the
Demon Wings
magic so I could be seen, but their attention would still tend to slide away when they didn’t concentrate.

They came, the shy, secretive people of this land.  Soon, a horde surrounded me.  Most of the pale faced mob were dressed in dark colors.  Those wearing precious jewels to announce their rank pressed closest, murmuring over the remains of their dead queen, eyeing me with grave suspicion.  “Did you do this?” one of them demanded.

Obviously I had.  He didn’t need an answer.  This was his way of claiming ascendancy over others who might seize the vacant throne.

“Who presumes to ask?” I said.

“I am Challis, cousin to the queen, the next Lord by right.”

“Your family lifted hand against me.  Be satisfied any of you are allowed to live.  The right to rule depends on the land, and I control your land.  No one will hold power here until I have certain assurances.”

“What assurances?” Challis asked.  “Perhaps we should go to more comfortable location and discuss this.”

I drew the Berretta from my waistband and place a slug between his eyes.  “No, I’d rather not.”

Arriving on the scene, a dozen guards in royal livery—black with white trim—jostled the aristocracy aside, swinging pikes toward me in a defensive posture. 

“He killed the queen,” a bystander helpfully informed them.  “And he holds the soul of the land.”

“And I will destroy that soul at the next attack against me,” I promised.

The guards held their position except for the one leading them, their captain.  He sheathed his silver, rune-etched sword and took a large step my way.  “What do you want?”

“I am Caine Deathwalker, Red Moon Demon, and Silver Crowned King of the Dragonlands.  I am death and judgment.  Your ruler made war against me so I broke her.  I will take what I want in repayment to the many inconveniences I have suffered, and then I will go, leaving you to pick up the pieces of your lives.”

“We will need the stone to do that.  Are you taking it with you?” the captain asked.

“Not unless I am forced to it.”  I sent the PX4 Storm back to my armory.

The captain turned back to his men to bark an order.  “Sheath weapons!”

Ignoring those immediately surrounding me, I walked back to the hole through which I’d come.  Everyone crowded out of my path, falling in behind me to see where I was going and what I’d do next.  The guards fell in to either side, keeping everyone back.

A leap carried me to the surface where a cool wind swept by.  I walked the damaged maze, passing the obsidian lair of the dead queen.  Beyond, I passed cultivated lands where mushrooms and tubers grew.  There were also orchards with dusky blue, miniature fruits.  I thought it a miracle anything could grow with so little sunlight.  I reached a village where mud and straw buildings huddle close to each other.  Woman and children emerged, cautious, careful.  Their huge eyes were dark, staring at me, staring at the end of their world as they knew it.  Many of the plainer dressed men who’d followed me back rejoined their families, using urgent, hushed voices to explain things.

My gaze fell on a woman standing alone, no husband, but three small children clinging to her skirts.  She was oddly fertile for a fey.  I shifted course to approach her, stopping a few feet away.  “What is our name?” I asked.

“Liah, my Lord.”

I smiled.  She’d given me a lord’s title so that curtesy might not fail—so punishment wouldn’t fall.  In any world, the lowest ranked always had to kiss ass.  “You may call me Caine.”

She managed a bow, graceful despite the children clinging to her.  “Thank you, my Lord.”

“Liah, I killed your queen.  Does that anger you?”

“It brings sorrow and fear, my Lord, but the struggle of life remains.”

“If it brings no injury to you and yours, would you swear friendship to me?”

“I consider myself a friend to all.”

Smart, not to commit herself to a position that might bring grief once I’m gone. 
I asked another question, “What is the most important thing to you?”

“Taking care of my family, living at peace with my neighbors, and honoring the high-born.”

“Reasonable, considering your station in life.  If you could speak fearlessly to the next lord of this land, what would you tell them to do?”

By then, several of the aristocracy had worked close enough to follow the conversation.  One of them, a man in a hooded black cloak, snorted in contempt.  He had the damp smell of a water magic user.  He said, “Low-born trash have no words the gentry need to hear.”

“I disagree.”  I faced him.  “They know the value of peace, of building community, and not wasting a land’s strength and lives in foreign adventures.  Had your queen known these things, she would not be maggot food now.”

The man’s face tightened in anger.  He half drew a sword from the scabbard.

I looked at him, certain death in my eyes.

He thrust his sword back into hiding.

I turned back to the woman. 

Her gaze roved about like she desperately wanted to escape this conversation by hiding herself away. 

I went up to her and handed her the heart of this land.  “Accept the burden, and lift those like yourself out of the mud.”