Demon Singer II

Demon

Singer

Book 2

BENJAMIN J NICHOLS

Copyright © 2016 BENJAMIN J NICHOLS

All rights reserved.

DEDICATION

For Emily

PROLOGUE

              Oberon, King of Faerie, Living Creature and servant to the Composer,  stalked angrily toward the beautiful garden gates of Hell.

              Most sane beings did everything they could to avoid these gates. Fairies in particular did not do well in - or even near - the province of the fallen.

              Oberon, however, was not like his children. He was sang into being by the Composer during the Six - the days the Composer used to pen the Score of Creation. He was the first, and the mightiest of his kind. Hell was unpleasant, he loathed it, but he did not fear it.

              Three Volkswagen sized hellhounds lay in his path, chewing on what appeared to be a quietly sobbing man, his face and body were mangled well beyond recognition. The hounds left their chew toy and advanced on Oberon, hackles raised.

              The Fairy King barely spared them a glance, waving a hand in their direction. Two of them poofed into precious calico kittens while the third became a small swallow, flitting merrily about.

              The three adorable creatures gamboled away, playing together in the lush grass at the side of the wide, well-beaten path known as Bonen Tansyon.

              An enormous wraith faded into view and locked eyes with the trio. Abruptly the kittens and the swallow stopped being adorable and became ash instead.

              The wraith turned toward Oberon who by now had reached the gates. The Fairy King turned his attention to the enormous hellion and squared his shoulders to face it directly. Upon making eye contact with the Fairy King, the wraith stopped moving, emitted an odd, hollow-sounding whimper and hurriedly faded from view.

              Oberon pushed the gates open and stepped through. He strode confidently through a pack of lesser demons who stared at him in shock.  One broke away from his brothers to intercept the fairy. Oberon waved his hand and the lesser dissolved into a pile of rose petals.

              The Fairy King continued on his way, intent on reaching Trytohn's dwelling. He passed the golden valley of the shadow, crossed the frothing river Acheron and climbed the ancient stone steps that led to an ornately carved door set in a palatial home. Trytohn waited in front of it.

              “Why are you hassling my dogs and demons, Oberon?” The king of hell asked as way of greeting.

              “They seemed unhappy, I wanted to help.” The fairy bowed ever so slightly, managing somehow to convey contempt rather than respect with his gesture. “I'm actually here to see
you
, your royal lowness.”

              “I assumed you were." Trytohn replied, "No one ever comes to hell for the attractions.”

              “I can't imagine why,” Oberon answered dryly, looking around. The incredible beauty of hell didn't faze him. Hell may be the most gorgeous place in all of creation, but that didn't make it a place he wanted to be. He knew the truth of hell, and shuddered  at the horror of it. “Can we talk?”

              Trytohn began to sit down and an ornately formed wrought iron chair materialized behind him. A matching chair and small table followed. He indicated Oberon should sit as well. The Fairy king looked at the iron chair and table in annoyance. Iron was toxic to fairies. If he sat on that he would suffer terrible burns in tender places. Even worse… prolonged impotence. Unacceptable for the poster boy of hedonism.

              He waved his hand and the chair was covered by soft, down cushions, while the table vanished beneath a thick woolen blanket that smelled of honeysuckle.

              “I'd like to make a deal.” Oberon said.

              “What might you have that I could possibly want, little fairy?” Trytohn  graced Oberon with a dazzling smile. Oberon's heart beat faster for a moment before he shook his head and broke free of Trytohn's seductive influence.

              “I can get you Acheron's magic.”

              Trytohn's smile broadened. Acheron was one of the Nychta Polemistis, the generals who served him directly. Of the seven of them, she was his favorite. She was also missing, walking the earth soul tied to a Soul Singer named Lyric. Soul Singers protected mankind and the Score of creation from Trytohn and his servants. This put her temporarily beyond his considerable reach.

              Oberon let the silence stretch out, knowing he had to give the Prince of Darkness time to digest his bold claim. It was the same as saying he could deliver Acheron herself. Without her magic she wouldn't last long. Another of Trytohn's generals, Lisian, had recently failed to sever Acheron's tie to the Soul Singer Lyric, and Trytohn ran out of patience. He placed a bounty on Acheron's head. Whoever brought her back to him - whole or in pieces - would assume her place in the Nychta Polemistis. Better her head and the loss of her power than to allow her power to be used by his enemies.

              Trytohn finally replied.

              “Why would you be interested in that herculean challenge? Acheron's not going to just let you take her magic, Oberon. And good luck forcing her to surrender. Even I find facing Acheron directly... less than appealing. That's why I put the bounty on her head.”

              “She has broken our truce.” Just saying the words caused Oberon's fury to bubble just beneath his calm exterior. “I would petition you for justice, but I know that is a foreign concept around here-”

              “Not at all,” Trytohn protested, “I'm a supporter of justice. Justice is what hell is all about. You can't get here by accident. You have to earn your way in.”

              “Save the pontificating,” Oberon continued, “Acheron has attacked my children and I will see her pay for it. I have made an agreement with the Thunder Monks to dance for me.”

              Trytohn's eyebrows shot up in surprise. Oberon knew that would get his attention.

              The Thunder Monks had power every fallen creature coveted. They guarded the storehouses of rain and hail and snow that lay just outside the gates of pearl. What mankind called thunder was in truth the sound of their dancing as they escorted the rains across the skies.

              Oberon continued his sales pitch.

              “My magic can control and channel their power. I even have a possession of Acheron's to provide the focus. What I
don't
have is a way to bind her long enough to make my plan work.”

              “How did you manage to convince the Thunder Monks to get involved?” Trytohn asked curiously.

              “I possess the remedy to their curse. In exchange for that, they have agreed to dance for me one time.”

              “And so you need from me…”

              “A handful of runes from your personal alphabet.”

              Trytohn chuckled.

              “Did you not think this through? What's to stop me from extracting this remedy for the monks from your lovely little skull and using it myself to get my girl back in her entirety?” The beautiful one leaned closer and Oberon felt his heart begin to race again.

              Control yourself
, he sternly thought to himself before answering.

              “The Thunder Monks won't do business with you, Trytohn, even to save their daughters. Especially since you are the one who cursed them to begin with.” Oberon pointed out. “Frankly, if they knew I was here they wouldn't deal with me either.”

              “There are other ways to get Acheron back,” Trytohn yawned lazily, but Oberon wasn't fooled.

              He knew secrets.

              “Not for you there aren't. What will you do when Acheron and Lyric discover that you no longer have any control over her, your most powerful vassal?” A brief flash of anger twisted Trytohn's features at Oberon's words, but the Fairy King continued.

              “You can't kill them. If you kill her, Lyric dies too and he's protected by his faith. Even you don't know what will happen if they die while tied. Lisian, your best bet to get Acheron back alive and separated from Lyric, is right this very second in the midst of betraying you. And from what I've heard, she's got a good chance. Legion has thrown his lot in with her, so has Rapacity. Tansyon is up to something too, though I haven't learned the details yet. That leaves you with Leviathan and Apasa. Five out of seven of your dark generals are moving against you. On top of that, rumor is Cassum might be getting involved." Oberon paused, watching the Hell King closely. "Trytohn, you might actually lose this time.”

              “And yet I am unconcerned.” Trytohn yawned. “You, on the other hand, are awfully well informed, little fairy. Where did you learn all this?”

              Oberon didn't bother lying to the Father of Lies.

              “Lisian's new friend, Varia Tur, asked me to open a route to the Verge so they can bring their army here to march on you.”

              “I heard about that,” Trytohn chuckled. “It's adorable. I also heard you refused. That's really the only reason I came out here to meet with you. Why did you say no?”

              “I have no interest in getting involved in your silly games. And in truth, I like the Soul Singer, Lyric.  Did you know they call him demon singer these days? His defeat of Lisian's army at Markhato protected my way of life. If she managed to conquer Markhato and bring down the veil, I'd never be safe among humans again. Acheron though, has exhausted my patience and good will. Will you or will you not give me the runes?”

              “You make a compelling case. Without her magic, one way or another, Acheron will eventually end up back here. Plus I'll get the demon singer in the bargain. I can't lose, how could I possibly say no?”

*   *   *   *   *

              Varia Tur stood quietly, washed by the dim amber streetlight in the warehouse district of Boston. His friend, Blink, stood to his left. The Soul Singer's Guild stood across from them; its eastern entrance was nondescript, gray and boring. Each day the city whirled busily around it, completely unaware of the wonders within; a treasure trove of magic and secrets, the kind that exist in books and movies and the dreams of children. Inside those walls lived the Soul Singers, a secret organization who arrogantly fancied themselves the protectors of the world, all of mankind and even the Score of Creation itself.

              Legends were passed around among those who knew of its existence. Legends of the strength of the Soul Singers Guild; of how Trytohn himself once threw everything he had against it, only to slink away in defeat. With his failure came the belief that the Guild was impregnable.

              Tonight Varia Tur would overcome that belief. His eyes scanned the plain gray facade.

              Waiting.

              It had been quiet for two hours now. Quiet and fat and complacent.

              A gorgeous demoness smoked into being on his right.

              "What took you so long, Mistress Lisian?" Varia asked lightly.

              "I've just come from Markhato. Acheron has rejected our offer. "

              "I'm sorry, Mistress, I know you hoped she would join us."

              “I still think I should have killed that stupid Soul Singer.”

              “I appreciate your restraint, he is important to our plan.”

              “So you say. How goes our project here?"

              "Swimmingly, the defenses are down and the Singers are asleep."

        “You realize that if you're wrong about this, Legion will spend several hundred years making you very sad before ultimately tossing you into the pit.” Lisian, spoke softly in his ear as she stood watch with him. “After all the work we did to get him back to something resembling his old self, he’s gonna be pissed if we have our asses handed to us tonight because your little plan failed.”

              “My little plan is fine, simplicity and patience do wonders.” Varia replied, watching patiently for the signal. Blink remained silent. The small Verger was terrified of Lisian. “Lyric's message lowered the defenses for one demon. Legion is inside by now. Everything is still quiet and everyone is asleep.  Otherwise we wouldn't be standing here looking at it, we'd be fighting angry Soul Singers.”

              “How exactly did you pull off making a way in for a demon?” The demoness prodded.

              Varia shrugged.

              “Lyric set a precedent with tying to your sister. The Soul Singer's Guild’s  defenses are intelligent and discerning. That's actually what made this possible. I engineered a message for Lyric to deliver that held an innocuous spell that would basically put a door stop in the hole that allowed Acheron. That hole has remained open and one demon can enter.”

              Lisian lapsed into silence, unconsciously twisting a ring on her finger that Varia had given her early in their partnership. He smiled to himself. She could sense the binding magic in it and referred to it as his collar, but remained ignorant of its true purpose. That ring was the result of one of the most impressive pieces of magic he ever pulled off.