Demon Singer II (22 page)

        Upon entering the gates they were greeted by a large meadow filled with clover and heat. A horde of enormous demons waiting at the far end started cheering. They began advancing. With a roar, the human soldiers ran toward the demons. They had no chance, what a bunch of psychos.

        "Trytohn knew we were coming!" Lisian shouted at the strange man named Varia over the sound of the shouts.

        "We assumed he would." The man replied.  "As you pointed out, he's not stupid. It changes nothing, I'll handle this, you get her to the pit." He gestured at Jessica.

        A roar broke through the sounds of battle and a monstrous man-shaped being riding a rhinoceros charged into the right flank of the demons followed by another demonic army.

        “Rapacity,” Lisian said sounding satisfied.

        "What's the pit?" Jessica asked in alarm as Lisian began towing her around the meadow toward a trail following the lip of a large canyon.  

        A strange sound behind them caused Jessica to glance back at the man Lisian called Varia.  He was singing! What a freaking weirdo!

        As though in response to his song the odd collection of the people shaped beings who arrived with him charged into the fray.  They ran around, through and over their own troops to get at the demons decimating the front line.

    As they watched, another army surged forward from the left to join the fighting.

        Lisian paused and made an odd motion like casting a net while mumbling something.

“What are you doing?” Jessica asked.

“I have to tie that army to Varia so he can command them. We can’t trust Rapacity to give up control.” She pulled Jessica inexorably onward as the girl watched in fascination. One of Varia's companions reached the fighting and launched himself through the air to land on the biggest demon's back. His hands glowed red and he shoved them deep into the monster's neck. The big demon threw its head back and shook the air with its wail of agony. It didn't last long.  The man plunged his glowing hands in again and the wail died in a gurgle. Moments later the demon's head was tumbling from its shoulders and the man was leaping free.

        Jessica couldn't believe what she was seeing.  Who was this man, Varia, and where did he come up with these strange beings?

        The fighting faltered as the other demons witnessed the demise of their companion.  Seeing the strange beings running at them caused an interesting reaction.  The stuff of nightmares tried desperately to get away from the singing man's friends. What the here was going on?

        "Who was that guy?" She asked Lisian as they traveled along the side of the canyon away from the fighting.

        "Varia Tur," Lisian had let go of Jessica and was twisting a ring on her finger. "He's the reason we're here." The demoness seemed agitated.

        "Who were those people with him? And why were those giant demons afraid?"

        "Those were Soul Singer's Vergers.  Each of them has been responsible for the banishment or torture of numerous hellions.  Those "giant demons" as you called them are just grunts.  They don't stand a chance against a Singer-powered Verger."

        "And your friend Varia, he's a Singer?"

        "He's not my friend, he's more of a trained pet. But he's learned to sing. He's the reason I've sunk deeper into insanity rather than away from  it.  We don't stand a chance against Trytohn. Why am I here?"

        "If it's that bad, shouldn't we just leave? You said you control the gates, right? Let's just go."

        Lisian shook her head.

        "The moment we stepped through it was too late. Trytohn already knows I've betrayed him. We make it happen now or we end up in the pit. There is no going back."

        They continued walking along the canyon.

        "What did you mean when you said you are the gates?" Jessica asked.

        "I am the power of Bondage. Every power has a responsibility.  We're given a position and power to carry that responsibility out.  The power doesn't come from us though. My strength comes from the gates of hell, the strongest shackles in creation. I hold back the damned. What you are talking to is a projection of my consciousness with flesh put on. I'm literally the gates you just stepped through."  

        Lisian pointed to the canyon beside them.

        "At the bottom of that gorge is my sister, the river Acheron.  You'll see her all through hell.  She's the power of Destruction. There are several others of course, but everyone's attention should be on the fighting at the gates. We need to get to Trytohn, bind him and shove him into the pit."

        "What's his power?"

        "He's the Prince of Lies. He's the untrue answer and the twisting to every word spoken."

        "So his power source is lies?"

        "No, worse.  He is the power of lies, but his power source is every one of us that chose to follow him.  His power source is every fallen angel and fallen human in existence. Put all of that strength together into one being and you have Trytohn, the eternal discord. No matter how strong we get, we just make him stronger. That is why he's the ruler here."

        "If he's that strong, what hope do we have?"

        "My pet, Varia Tur." Lisian twisted the ring on her finger.  "He has a plan; a brilliant one."

        "What is it?"

        Lisian looked at Jessica.

        "You."

*   *   *   *   *

        "What are your thoughts, Brad?" Sabre asked the surly general as they walked back to the palace.

        Tagshout answered immediately.

        "I think I should have cut the midget in half."

        Sabre nodded thoughtfully.

        "I appreciate your restraint." He said to the general.

        "You're welcome." Tagshout grunted.

        "What is your recommended course of action?"

        "Eat a big dinner, go to bed, get up tomorrow and start fighting dwarves."

*   *   *   *   *

        
LYRIC NO!!

        Both Acheron and Cadence chorused in his head as they picked up his intention, but it was too late.  Lyric grabbed a handful of heather and hurled himself after Fugue.  They had been climbing steadily upward for the last two hours and had reached an intimidating height.  

        Lyric sang a quick phrase as he rocketed toward the ground, causing the heather to travel along his body like water.  Just before impact the Singer spread his arms and legs apart. A gossamer webbing called into being by his song caught the air currents and he managed to land safely with little more than a host of bruises from tumbling along the ground. He didn't think anything was broken, but still felt as though gravity was making him pay for his defiance.

        Groaning he forced himself to his feet and searched for Fugue, hoping desperately the man was still alive so that Lyric might heal him.

        
Lyric what the hell?
Cadence's thoughts reached him angrily.

        
The Verger is right, Lover,
Acheron chimed in.
That was unnecessarily stupid. You don't even like the guy, why risk your life?

        
It's how I'm wired,
Lyric replied,
every human life is precious and worth saving. Now shut up, I'm trying to find him.

        Maybe in the future you should fight that urge, you know, since all our asses are on the line,
Acheron said.
But since you're already down there, look for a large pile of splat. That should be your human.

        
Lyric ignored the demoness and began singing his locator song. Typically the song acted like a tug on his shirt, indicating the direction he should go. The absence of any reaction was almost as puzzling as the men's voices he heard singing in the trees.

        Suddenly an odd fatigue swept over Lyric and he wondered what was going on.  He was dimly aware of Acheron yelling in his mind, just before he slipped into oblivion.

*   *   *   *   *

        Noale Sabre was sitting atop the battlements overlooking his city having breakfast with his wife and best friend, Madelyn Sabre.  

        "What will you do?" Maddy asked.  Sabre shrugged.

        "I'm a fighting man, my desire is to handle the threat to our home. In the past, that threat has always been evil. That isn't the case now. The dwarves were here before we were. They power our homes, provide us with most of the technologies we enjoy in Markhato that other second site cities lack."

        "You wouldn't avoid a fight for the sake of comfort. What else is going on?"

        "It seems everywhere else on earth, dwarves are second class citizens, here they work, teach and live alongside us. I don't want to fight them."

        "Is it too late to make peace?" Madelyn poured coffee into her husband's empty cup.

        "It certainly seems that way." Noale replied.  "Thenso is only giving us today to evacuate. Unless we want to force everyone out with only the shirts on their backs, it's an impossible demand. I've sent a messenger to ask for another meeting so I can try to convince him to give us time to prepare a counter offer that doesn't require bloodshed." Sabre drained his coffee cup again and Maddy immediately refilled it. Sabre continued.

        "Brad is preparing the men for another battle, but morale has plummeted since the war and then the zombie attack. Now this fresh hell and we don't have a leader to navigate it.”

        Maddy smacked the love of her life in the back of the head.

        “The hell we don't, Noale Sabre. I may not be a soldier, but I've been around them my whole life. The Milleytes Lux follows Brad out of a sense of obligation and a desire to serve their city. They follow you out of love and respect. Tagshout may be a general, but you are a leader.”

        “Your father isn't all bad, you know. He did alright with you.”

        “Brad Tagshout is a sperm donor, not a father. Where are you going?”

        Sabre kissed his wife tenderly.

        “I love you, beautiful, but I need to go help the sperm donor prep the men. I have little doubt we will see more fighting today.”

        Noale Sabre walked away, every inch proud and strong military man. War was coming and his responsibility was to meet it.

*   *   *   *   *

        Lyric regained consciousness slowly.  Carefully maintaining a heavy breathing pattern to mimic slumber he paid close attention to what he could hear.

        Branches scraping against a gutter, the hum of a fan, faraway laughter and perhaps a shower. Everything was in tune. The Score of Creation sounded relaxed.  Slowly he opened one eye to see an old man smiling back at him.

        "How are you feeling lad?" The man's accent was not Irish, it was Scottish.

        "Confused," Lyric pushed himself up to a sitting position. Looking around he saw he was in a jail cell. Acheron and Cadence were unconscious on nearby cots in an adjacent cell that matched his own.  Bits of dreams came across their tie to him. Acheron's presence felt weak. He sent her a surge of strength.

        "Not too much, boy," the old man admonished.  Lyric turned his attention to his cell mate.  The man was big and burly and looked to be a thousand years old.  His voice though, was rich and smooth. "I've kept them asleep so we could talk a bit.  You're a Soul Singer, why are you here?"

        "I'm a what?" Lyric asked feigning confusion.  

        "No need to be nervous, I'll not hurt you," the oldster assured him. "But I recognized your song immediately. It's an old one. We don't even use it anymore."

        "I have no idea what you're talking about, sir, but if you've done something to my friends I need you to undo it." Lyric started mentally thumbing through his repertoire as he spoke. He looked around again. “Did you find another man near where you found me?”

        "Don't worry, I haven't hurt your friends.  They were both exhausted, poor things, and I'm afraid the song the guards used was none too gentle. I coaxed them far enough out of the abyss that they might have a restful nap. As for another man, there was no one else, I'm sorry."

        "Where are we? Why are we locked up and who are you?" Lyric spoke carefully, controlling his anger.

        "You're in the town of Puirt-a-beul, we're locked up because we're dangerous; you because you're an unknown Singer, me because I'm drunk..." The old man trailed off and seemed ready to fall asleep sitting up on his bunk.

        "And are you?" Lyric prodded.

        The old man jerked his head up and smiled brightly.

        “Drunk? Completely.”

        “No, are you dangerous?”

        “Only sometimes,” the old man extended his hand. "Call me Diz, that's what everyone else calls me. Much better than my real name."

        Lyric's heart began pounding as he shook the man's hand.