As it turned out, a squad of royal guards had been deployed to that village. Rene considered the situation and simply summoned the night. Darkness covered him in its mantle, making the necromancer undetectable to the human eye. Under its veil, he worked his way outside the ring of bonfires and to the next village where he tidied himself up and stole a horse. Although, stealing was an overstatement—in exchange for it, Rene left a gold coin, issued during the previous king’s rule. Honestly, it was enough to buy two such nags. That took him the rest of the night, but it was worth it. By morning, a respectable-looking man was riding down the road.
Nobody paid any attention to him. Let him leave. Maybe he’s a mercenary, or a steward, or just somebody who decided to move to greener pastures.
The day went well, but the next morning, Rene sensed a light spell targeting him. A seeking spell. They were tracing him by his magic. Rene chose to shake off the pursuers—and to get rid of them if he failed.
He turned the horse toward Torrin. Mountains were a good shelter. However, Rene knew the risks. At least ten servants and thralls of the Bright Saint were on his heels. They had two mages; the others were probably warriors. Would he be able to deal with them alone? Only if he got really lucky.
The hunters were closing in, and for the third day in a row, he was looking for a suitable location to meet them in battle.
***
I went for my routine mountain hike, planning to spend a couple of days there. Rick and Henry went to a fair in the neighboring county, and I was bored out of my mind in the castle. So I just ran away. It’s not like they will do anything worse than scold me when I get back. At least I’ll spend a few days alone with myself and the wind. Why don’t I have wings?
I had strayed pretty far from home and stumbled upon the idea of meeting Henry and Rick instead of going back. Prepare a surprise for them, so to speak. The most important thing was not to fall into my teachers’ hands in the first twenty minutes. Afterward, they would cool off.
I had already spent a whole day hanging around the road. Typical—you’d have to be completely bonkers to go visit Torrin. It wasn’t just a backwater place; it was the ultimate middle of nowhere. There was no way to leave, either by land or by water, nothing to gain except for fish. As for the silver, we and the locals kept our mouths shut, as we could easily imagine what would happen otherwise. We’d get lots of rabble, a huge tax, and then the mine would belong to the king—and we would have to work there for free, but thrice as much. Nope, not saying anything made way more sense.
I was a bit surprised to hear a clatter of hooves, but then I sensed the trappings of my power, so intimately familiar to me. A cold feeling of dark power fell over me and then subsided as if a snake had slithered next to me in the grass.
A necromancer. A rather powerful one. Riding here.
Of course, I was interested. Wouldn’t you be? The first necromancer from beyond the borders of Torrin! I couldn’t miss him or let him leave. My curiosity tortured me worse than a squad of fleas, so I took a look around. Aha!
It was a great spot—perfect for hiding and suddenly jumping out on the road. And then climbing the cliffs to get away from Henry’s...delight in seeing me. Without thinking twice, I crawled behind a big rock and began to wait.
Soon, a horse showed up from behind a corner. A zombie, I noticed that straight away—the necromancer had raised it and forced it to serve after its death. The necromancer himself was a man of forty years or a little bit more, although, at that moment, he looked as old as sixty. He was tired, sullen, dirty, worn-out, and beaten. Yeah, a pursuit never did anyone any favors.
I whistled lightly and released some of my power. The necromancer groaned and fell from his horse. I slipped out of my hiding place and stood in front of him.
“Hello?”
The man passed out cold.
***
I could imagine his feelings. There you are, riding down a road, trying to figure out how to lose your tail—and a half-demon appears from around the corner. A small half-demon, rather. A cutie, obviously, but where did he come from in the mountains? I had to bring him to his senses. What did I use? Not water, I didn’t have enough of that, so slaps sufficed. I had always kept a good supply of them.
After regaining consciousness, the man first tried to scream, then hit me with a spell, and finally, run away. Of course, I didn’t let him do any of that—I gave him another few slaps and asked, “What are you doing on my land?”
I have to give credit to Rene—he was quick to recover his wits, and for a necromancer, my appearance wasn’t exactly shocking.
“Do you live here?”
“Yes. Are you a necromancer?”
“Yes.
“Are they after you?” I nodded in the direction where, in a couple of hours, his pursuers would appear. I already sensed their magic. Something gluey, something light, something predatory...
Who said that darkness was evil and light was good? Idiots!
Go on, try standing in the sun for too long—would it be good for you? Balance in all things; concentrated light could kill just as well as primal darkness. You have to use your head, not use it as an empty vessel for somebody’s bullshit! Ugh!
“Y-yes.”
“Can you fight?”
Rene nodded, hesitant. I chuckled.
“Then help, as much as you’re able. We’ll have to kill them and hide the bodies so well that nobody ever finds them. Where are you from?”
Over those three hours, I managed to get Rene’s entire life story. I nodded, content. I needed a necromancer. Martha was good, of course, but you could never have enough teachers.
I also told him a bit about myself. That my name was Alex, and I was living there, and that I had no use for the servants of light. I left the rest to Rick; he was older and smarter than I.
Rene looked at me with disbelief, but my looks were the main proof of my words—as well as my clothes and weapon.
“So, what is your offer?” he finally said.
“To kill your pursuers.”
“As simple as that?”
“No, it won’t be simple,” I grinned. “Hey, if they die right now, will anybody else be able to follow the trail of your magic?”
“No. I don’t think so.”
“You don’t think so or no?”
“They shouldn’t be able to. I tried not to leave any traces.”
I had to take risks. Destroy the hunters and feign genuine surprise in response to all the questions. What necromancer? On the lands of the crown prince? You’re out of your mind, sirs. There never was anyone like that, you may check for yourself.
Or he could just die. Death solved all these problems. I looked at Rene. “Leave your horse here. And hand me your cloak, will you?”
“And what should I do?”
“Sit there while I finish this,” I replied, a smirk on my face.
“You do realize they have to be killed with a sword, right? No magic.”
“Why?” That piqued my interest.
“Because it’s light magic. If a trace of death is left, their brethren will notice that.”
“On their bodies?” I wouldn’t leave any bodies.
“No. They might summon their souls...”
“To talk to them?”
“No. That would be necromancy, and necromancy is forbidden. They would just learn the cause of death.”
I nodded. The same necromancy, just circumcised. It makes sense—light magic could never let you talk to the dead. Maybe revive them, but all the thralls in the kingdom wouldn’t be enough to perform such a miracle. I really don’t care for the saintly folks.
“You’ve just never tried to cook them right.”
I looked at the necromancer. Did I say that out loud? Judging by an arrogant smile on his thin lips, I did. I pulled at a cord on his black cloak.
“Take it off and get the hell out of here, so they don’t see you.”
***
They showed up in two h
ours.
Twelve riders, all dressed in capes—once white, and now smeared in dirt. Three Punishers with their heads shaven, the same look of obsession on their faces, flashes of light in their auras. That was not good at all.
Darkness dissolves matter, and light burns it all. A normal person is balanced, but these... But who am I to say that? Demons are parts of darkness, and sooner or later, it will claim me, unless I manage to remain human.
They stopped at the scene that I had carefully prepared for them. A dead horse and a man in a black cloak lying on his back. Of course, there was nothing under the cloak, but who would check?
So, who’ll go first? Ah, too bad I don’t have a crossbow. Whatever. I’ll manage. Especially since they stopped right where I wanted them to.
I sized up the situation for the last time. All right, here we go!
A daring leap into the center of the squad, and I landed right behind one of the pursuers. These shaven-headed beasts should not exist in my world. Demon’s blood sang a battle cry in my veins.
It was a whirlwind of death. The horses went into a frenzy upon seeing my battle form, while I continued to strike, blow upon blow.
The first died straight away when I crushed him under my boots, the second fell to my tail, and the third—to a knife I threw at him. The horses reared up as I jumped aside—and howled like a wild wolf. Henry taught me that. Too bad I didn’t have any other wolf traits, but you play the cards you’re dealt.
People were falling on the ground all over, unable to deal with their maddened mounts, and I was waiting for them. I killed two more with my blade, another one with my tail, and tried to get to the last two. I had to deal with them above all else. Filth.
The temples trained these bastards to hunt mages, but at least mages did something for people, like the necromancer I was saving. But these guys...all they could do was take money and whine about sins.
That said, at that moment, they weren’t whining, but trying to brace themselves. Well, so help you Saint! I charged forward, finally reaching one of the Hounds with my second dagger. I didn’t have any of them left, just my sword and my tail. The weapon I had been born with.
The men finally started taking me seriously and got ready for an attack. Nobody wanted to escape. Great. That was just what I needed. If anybody ran away, I would have to find them, follow their trail.
But the murderous scum charged. They didn’t even think that somebody who attacked them wasn’t stupid. Does it matter what I look like? I might be small, but I am as fast and strong as any adult!
I had killed ten of them before they realized that. The remaining ones regrouped, sending a shaven lout ahead. He looked at me and reached out with his hand, the symbol of the Bright Saint inside—a cross in a circle. I snarled and leaped toward him.
Demon!
My movements suddenly slowed down, as if I was swimming in thick jelly. The two other warriors prepared to meet me, their swords flashing. They never reached me.
Rene’s arrow plowed through the bald skull, and the spell was halted. In two swings, the rest of the squad was dead.
The necromancer came out from behind the rocks. “Well, boy, you’re a gift that keeps on giving!”
“Taking. Lives,” I corrected him respectfully. “Will you help deal with the trophies?”
“I will. And maybe we should get ready to spend the night?”
“No need,” I sighed. “On horseback, we will reach the castle pretty soon.”
And what a walloping I’ll get there!
I did get it. I almost felt like a prophet, even. Rick didn’t care a bit if I was a half-demon or not, he gave me the thrashing of a lifetime. What would you do in his place?
First, his charge had disappeared for a whole day, then returned home with a bunch of loot, several horses, and a smiling necromancer. Rick had no choice, really—but when I saw Martha, I thought his punishment a blessing. She almost hugged me to death, that’s how worried my nanny had been.
Rene was interrogated using all proper necromantic skills and, after some hesitation, offered a job as my teacher. Why waste talented people? Ghirr, who already had nowhere to go, agreed on the spot. He wrote a letter to Cassie, inviting her there, and started setting up one of the towers for his needs. And really, what awaited him in Limdor, or Riolon? Nothing. And here, he had peace, comfort, and respect—and the possibility of raising his child without any problems if he or she turned out to be a necromancer. Torrin already tolerated one, after all.
Martha wasn’t jealous of him at all. She realized very well that despite her skills, she didn’t have much of an education. I had to know much more than she could teach. That was true dedication, to give up on something dear to you for the sake of someone you loved. She didn’t exactly give up, though—she still visited all my lessons, only it was Rene who was the teacher. And Martha learned, too.
Soon, Cassie arrived at the castle. Happy for her husband, she easily fit in with the rest of us and started bearing children while helping Auntie Mira around the household.
Time passed. Outside Torrin’s borders, rebellions started and died out, Radenorian coin got cheaper and more expensive, neighbors chipped away at our land—and we just went on living. Until I turned fifteen. At sixteen, I was to be presented to the court—and nobody was going to release me into the world unprepared.
***
On my fifteenth birthday, I got the best present of them all. I changed forms. First, however, I almost passed out.
Just imagine waking up, going to the bathroom to brush your teeth, and seeing in the mirror a cute, noble-looking boy instead of the usual scales and red eyes. I yelled out in panic, and startled, knocking down a water basin. The servants came running after hearing the noise and screamed as well. Rick and Henry followed them, and before they figured out what was happening, I got the pleasure of seeing one of my teachers turning pale with anger and the other’s face growing red.
They had never seen me in this form before and assumed I had gotten kidnapped and replaced with this guy—if not worse.
Shocked, Rick called out to Martha and Rene, while Henry pulled out a sword and advanced on me. I jumped back, spreading my hands forward.
“It’s me, Henry!”
“Who’s ‘me’?” Henry didn’t put the sword away, but it made him pause. The claws protracted from my fingers without any prompting.
“Alex!”
“You look so different!”
Martha was the first to arrive at the scene, and Rene the second. I immediately felt a wave of necromantic energy aimed at me and barely managed to defend myself from being turned into a rock.
“What are you doing? I don’t want to die!”
“A necromancer,” Rene determined.
“Alex?” Martha breathed out in surprise.
I nodded. Alex, Alex...go on, recognize me at last!
“Alex?”
Rick’s face slowly returned to its normal color.
“We were warned he would get this ability around sixteen years old...”
“What about us? Who warned us?” Henry was outraged.
Martha cast her eyes downward. Yeah, we hadn’t told them about our talk with Argadon. That was too personal for me, which is why I asked my nanny not to do that. And Martha loved me way too much. Henry stepped forward and gave my ear a painful pinch. “You idiot!”
“Hey, take it easy! You’ll tear it off!”
“And I should!”
But my second ear escaped the punishment. A good decision, as I was the vengeful sort—I could easily smear the insides of his hat with tar, or his boots...
I liked my new looks. Really cute. Big blue eyes, white hair of the same length as in my half-demon form, soft white skin, thin arms, and legs, like a true nobleman, small frame.
Almost a copy of Michelle, only with different features. Her face was delicate, like a doll’s. I, on the other hand, have prominent cheekbones, a heavy jaw, and a very high forehead—and my eyebrows and eyel
ashes are black, the former looking like two straight lines leading right toward my temples. All of this made me look somewhat like a predator—but a human predator. Overall, I was a short, slightly-built boy, who probably could be dressed as a girl if not for his face.
When my family—and they were my real family, who else would I call ‘family’, not my uncle—figured everything out, they rubbed their hands together, content. Now I could be taken out into the world.
I’ll never forget my first journey around the country. Never.
***
The gathering consisted of me, Rick, Henry, and Martha. It didn’t concern anyone else. They still lived here, they were my family, but it was those three who were there in the beginning, with my mother.
Princess Michelle. My mother. Mom.
I was so sorry that she had died, but alas. Any woman would die after giving birth to a half-demon—it’s the law. We take too much of their strength, not leaving anything left to continue living. It wouldn’t happen with a quarter-demon, the mother would live, but all half-demons were orphans. There were some exceptions, of course—incubi, vampires, all that riff-raff, but they weren’t true demons, just low-level rabble. Michelle would never have chosen one of them as my father. No, she picked the strongest one. No matter how her friends tried to talk her out of that, she gave it her all. They knew Michelle’s wish and funneled all their energy into her plan.
Rick was the one to speak up. “Alex, you are to visit the court in a year.”
I nodded. That’s what I loved about Rick; he never beat around the bush, he was always blunt. He had been so tired of pussyfooting around while serving his duke that he pulled no punches after leaving him.
“You need to decide what you want.”
What did I want? To become a stronger necromancer than Rene. What else? Nothing, really. I liked my life as it was—which is exactly what I said.
Half-Demon's Revenge Page 8
