Demons of the Hunter (War of the Magi Book 2)

by Stephen Allan

  But he’d done his job. He’d declared peace between the two factions. He’d offered a metaphorical olive branch, and the people would have to accept it one way or the other. He glanced over at Gaius, who subtly nodded. To Tyus, he saw that as the elder saying, “Good start.”

  He took a step back. He felt a firm hand on his shoulder. He turned and saw his father smiling at him. But the way he had gripped his shoulder suggested anything other than being pleased at what he had said. The smile also faded when the emperor came closer.

  “Interesting choice of words, boy,” he snarled. “But now, I will show you how a true leader commands a crowd. Observe.”

  The emperor took center stage, raised his arms, and the crowd went wild. To the side, a couple of the guards made gestures and said things similar to what Tyus had said, which drew howls of laughter. It was not difficult to figure out how the guards felt about him.

  What his father had done, Tyus realized, was the cult of personality at its strongest. If his words had made any sort of impact, it vanished with the simple lifting of hands by his father. Nothing the boy said could match even the simplest of actions by a man seen as a god by his most ardent supporters.

  CHAPTER 5: KARA

  This is as good as it’s going to get, isn’t it?

  Kara watched the son of the emperor give what amounted to the best speech anyone associated with the empire could orate. He refused to call them heroes. He refused to give them anything. He at least tempered his criticisms some, but the complete exoneration that she had hoped someone as young as him would give had never arrived.

  He was as the reports indicated—a coward, a pawn of his father, perhaps filled with thoughts of peace and understanding but too weak to express them. In other words, useless. Kara talked down to herself as much as she did the empire for thinking they would say anything worthwhile.

  She’d given thought to killing him right there. She had thought about incinerating him alive, turning, freezing the guards, and then slowly torturing the emperor for all to see. Oh, how she would have delighted in hearing the crowd scream in terror as flames engulfed the emperor from head to toe, his cries like that of a baby, revealing his true, weak nature. She even had to force herself to stop smiling a couple of times during Tyus’ speech as her imagination ran wild, dancing like the flames she hoped to cast.

  But that was not what she wanted. Even though her imagination had her killing the empire for all to see, it wasn’t the display that she needed for this moment. She wanted the emperor to die in the most public of settings possible. She had to wait until he got up to speak so that he could face his humiliation and reckoning. Here and now, as a pathetic excuse of a man waiting to speak, was not the most prominent place for him to die.

  But that time would come. And it would come within seconds. She’d waited too many years, and now, it was just moments away.

  As for the boy, the more she thought of her father, the more she gave thought to sparing him. The boy had tried to help during battle. He’d done an absolutely pitiful job, but he could at least work. Maybe he’d make for a great shadow emperor someday. Oh, the irony. She would become a shadow controlling the puppet that would be the son of the former emperor. Shadows of the Empire would take on an entirely new meaning. It would not hide in the basement of libraries, plotting a coup, but it would instead rule from the darkness of the palace, reducing the empire to nothing more than a government on strings.

  No, Kara thought, that wasn’t enough. She hadn’t planned to kill the empire just so the magi could remain in the shadows. Maybe Tyus could become a human slave. Oh, wouldn’t that be a downfall of the mighty. He would do her bidding, remaining on his knees like the magi had metaphorically for centuries. Tyus would know their pain. He would live their pain until his body gave out—and if Kara had anything to do with it, that day wouldn’t come for a long, long time.

  Then the emperor stepped forward, and every part of Kara’s rage filled her. Wait. Wait until he’s made himself even more foolish. You’ll know when the right moment has come.

  The emperor, for having the gall to raise his arms, as if this were one big gathering thrown in his honor, roiled Kara’s stomach. He probably thought this party was in his honor given his level of narcissism. Only someone as deeply egotistical and shallow as the empire could declare a ceremony in someone else’s honor and then rationalize his way into believing it was for him. When had the emperor ever appeared to honor someone else and not have it reach back to his own glory and image?

  But more than just the emperor bothered her. The crowd, for blindly cheering him like the fools they were, annoyed her. They did realize that the empire had not seen any kind of growth at all during his time, right? They did realize that his tunnel-vision hunting for magi had only turned the people paranoid against each other, suspicious of even the slightest thing that didn’t seem natural? Did they not understand that without the magi, Indica would have reduced Caia to rubble?

  No. They will never understand. They are but sheep.

  The people were fools. The masses were a collective hive of intelligence less than that of a newborn horse. Kara wanted to feel better about that, wanted to believe that it would make her rule over them easier, but it just left her feeling depressed. She did not want an empire of mindless idiots; she wanted an intelligent world, even if that meant her rule wasn’t quite as strong as before.

  But the only truly intelligent person she knew was Gaius, and though he’d been around for some time, one man did not make up for a world of fools. Could not, even if he dedicated all of his time to it. Perhaps Zelda and Yeva would blossom into wise women one day, but that was at least half a decade off.

  In fact, Kara had noticed, the more years and decades that went by, the dumber the people of Hydor became. It was as if the empire’s presence slowly poisoned their minds. It was almost as unforgivable as his incessant persecution of them.

  “My people!” the emperor began.

  Kara yearned to kill him immediately. The cheers were so obnoxious, and what better way to declare a statement than to do so as he thought he was taking in so much shallow glory. “My people?” These people would kill you in a heartbeat if it gave them any smidgen of power and freedom. They would recognize your weakness as you “fought” for Caia. The people support your image, not you, Rufus.

  “I thank you for coming on this day. We will make this quick, because I have many important things to attend to, things which will drastically improve your lives.”

  Lies, Kara thought. All lies. It was gross. How…

  Stop. Focus on killing him. Then you control the people.

  “I would like the leader of the Shadows of the Empire to step forward. Dearest, sweetest Kara, if you would.”

  A nervous rush hit her stomach. This was her moment. The moment that she’d waited for decades—no, longer—to have come true. The moment when the Syrast Empire would finally collapse.

  She took two steps forward so that she was parallel with the emperor. The emperor motioned to her, as if he wanted her to take a single step back, but she refused, staring him down with eyes that showed hatred, contempt, and finality. She might do a few things for public performance, but this was not one of them. She crossed her arms and wore a bemused smirk as the emperor kept motioning her to step back.

  The emperor looked flustered for several seconds; a pregnant pause filled the air before he turned back with a smile. She looked at her magi. Gaius had moved forward just a bit. Zelda and Yeva, the poor girls, looked like they might vomit. The rest of the magi kept their faces grim, their expressions taut.

  They all knew what they had to do. When Kara began her attack, they would follow suit. All soldiers would fall. The city would bow before their new leaders. The Shadows would become the royalty of Hydor.

  “On this day, we are here to recognize what you have done for us.”

  She noticed the emperor’s speech had picked up just a tad. Not by much, but he spoke with more haste than
usual. She bent her knees, her natural position for unleashing magic. She felt the surge of energy begin to form in her chest. It slowly made her way through her body, preparing for a fatal attack.

  “And so, I am here…”

  She looked and saw one of the guards had slowly, behind one of the magi, moved his hand to his sword. Distracted momentarily, Kara’s magic faded just enough that she would need a couple of seconds to recharge.

  But in just a few milliseconds, she saw it all. The other guards reaching for their swords. The emperor taking a step back. The two young girls crouching and beginning to move away, Zelda’s hand grabbing Yeva’s arm.

  We’re about to…

  No.

  No!

  “To give you your reward!”

  The soldier drew his sword and pierced the mage in her chest, drawing a shriek of pain. Blood splattered to the ground as chaos broke out. Kara struggled for her magic as the other magi whirled around, but unlike Kara, they could not use magic without a weapon. And they had not drawn their weapons quickly enough.

  Save for one. Gaius, the veteran of the group, unsheathed his sword, imbued a powerful fire spell, and attacked the soldiers with a furious roar. The soldiers stabbed at the unsuspecting magi. One magi dodged one lunge, only for another soldier to drop him with a blade to the ribcage. Fire shot across the stage as Gaius roared like Kara hadn’t heard him roar in years—decades, even.

  She’d kept him from fighting against Indica in part because he was too old to fight. She had much more personal reasons than that. But now, they had no choice. If they could move, they could fight. Gaius had to kill once more.

  “No! Rufus! Die!”

  She dodged one soldier who had dared to come at her and launched a potent lightning spell that shot the man back several feet, knocking over a half-dozen other guards. Meanwhile, pandemonium had broken out behind her. People screamed. Guards struggled to maintain control. Arrows flew, swords chopped, and daggers stabbed. It was all a maelstrom of war, brought to a head, once more, by the emperor.

  Then she found him, standing behind a guard who had fallen from her lightning spell. Rufus Syrast. The man responsible for all of this, all of her heartache, all of the sorrow of her life. The fat, balding, worthless pig trapped in a human’s body. Never had such a being existed so deserving of a painful, merciless death.

  Die! Die! Die!

  Just as the emperor turned to face her, Kara lined up the strongest fire spell she had. As if reaching into the fires of the underworld, she shot forth a vicious spell so powerful even she felt the heat. She lost vision of the emperor but felt sure she had destroyed him, reducing him to ash and nothing more. She yelled, her rage matching her spell, as she spent the last of her magic.

  Slowly, the flames dissipated. And through the wavy heat and smoke, the emperor still stood, laughing, a small green protective barrier surrounding him.

  No. No! Impossible. Him? A mage?

  No matter how much she tried to believe it, her eyes did not deceive her. The emperor still stood, laughingly mocking her. At least the soldiers had suffered, but the head of the snake still hissed.

  No. The emperor wasn’t a mage. He couldn’t be.

  Another mage, someone hidden from view, was protecting him. Someone decided their own self-interests took priority over the good of the magi of the whole. Unless he had gotten some of the magic of Indica… but that wasn’t possible. He had to…

  “I hate you!” she shrieked as the emperor laughed menacingly. “Why don’t you die?!?”

  But the emperor moved away, surrounded by a fresh batch of guards.

  “Fine,” she growled. “I’ll kill your entire army and then fight you, coward.”

  She indiscriminately unleashed fire and electric spells. She hit some citizens, but she was past caring at that point. She was so enraged at the sight that she now wanted to do what Indica had nearly done. Regret filled her mind for having killed the dragon.

  She wanted Caia burned to the ground.

  All of it. Only ashes and pebbles of buildings should remain. Any humans who were not magi should burn to the ground, alive, preferably. She would create a monument of human bones next to the dragon, the result of their ill-advised war against the magi.

  Guards came after her, but Kara’s rage pushed her magic capabilities to a height unseen in decades. The citizens around her broke out in a panic, running away as quickly as they could. Some cried “witch!” some cried hysterically, some cried for their spouses and kids. But they all ran. They all knew better than to confront one of the most powerful magi in all of Hydor.

  Fine. Cowards and idiots. Their day of judgment would come. And unlike the stories of Chrystos, she would not spare any mercy.

  Her rage pushed her to such heights that no guard came within a dozen feet of her. But for as many guards as she killed, many more magi perished. She had no idea where Gaius was. The girls had vanished—hopefully to safety, hopefully to reorganize, hopefully to come fight the empire more. The rest of the Shadows had perished. Years of recruitment, gone. Years of training, preparing, and protecting the city, gone.

  I hate you, Rufus. I hate your empire. I hate all of it! Die! Burn! Burn to the ground! Burn with Iblis!

  “Kara!”

  Gaius!

  He grabbed her shoulder and pulled her back, even as she continued to unleash fire spells toward the barrage of guards. One of the guards dragged a wounded man in robes away, a man she did not recognize from the Shadows, by his hair. Out of her peripheral vision, she saw that Gaius was wounded, his left shoulder bleeding, but he was alive. That was more than any other member of the Shadows of the Empire could say. That was more than most people who had attended today’s ceremony could say.

  “We must leave. Now!”

  “The emperor must die! Burn—”

  “We’ll kill him later! We can’t right now! Kara, listen to me. Listen! The essence of Indica! That crystal! It’s our hope for winning this war. Our only hope. We have to protect it.”

  Kara looked up the steps. The emperor stood there, a smug smile on his face, surrounded by the magic barrier, barely visible through a horde of guards. Kara still didn’t see the magi protecting the emperor—probably by design. It certainly wasn’t Gaius, who was busy killing some guards.

  She hated to leave the emperor. She hated that she had not taken advantage of a golden opportunity. I waited for the theatrical moment. I was so dumb. So stupid.

  No matter. I will slaughter you, Rufus. I will torture you until you have died a thousand deaths of the mind, and only then will I grant you release from this world.

  “Go!” Gaius yelled. “Head to base. Then we escape and fight another day.”

  Kara wanted to storm the palace and burn it all to the ground. Watch it all crumble and laugh as she took over an empire burned to the ground. Laugh in the emperor’s face as he suffered before his death.

  But more troops came, more troops surrounded by magic barriers. Kara swore whatever magi were helping the emperor would meet a far worse fate than what she had in mind for the soldiers.

  “Fine,” she snapped. I’ll be back.

  Gaius took her arm and the two of them escaped into the madness, ditching their robes as they blended in with the stampeding crowd. They made their way to the library, back to their secret base that Kara feared was not as secretive as needed. They were not pursued, but there weren’t many other people running into the library in broad daylight.

  As she reached the spiral staircase, the fallout of the day flooded her mind.

  Who had survived? Zelda and Yeva, hopefully. They had fled. It felt cowardly, but for their age… well, they would learn.

  Gaius and her.

  Anyone else?

  It was doubtful. In fact, it was all but a certainty the four of them were the only survivors.

  Kara wanted to scream. She’d wasted a golden opportunity, her best one yet, and it had cost her the lives of her secret army.

  But she still
had the most powerful weapon in all of Hydor, and once she had the crystal and a chance to recover, she might still stand a chance.

  CHAPTER 6: ZELDA

  Sheer chaos broke out around Zelda and Yeva. Fists flew, blood spurted, screams echoed, magic erupted, and metal grinded and clanged. Madness defined Caia. And Zelda and Yeva were right in the middle of it all.

  In the moments before, when the emperor had begun speaking funny, Zelda stole a glance out of her peripheral vision. She saw the guards’ hands moving closer to their swords. She saw Emperor Syrast insist that Kara move her position, to better be struck down by one of his guards. It all clicked together so quickly that Zelda didn’t have time to debate the merits of her thoughts. She didn’t have time to weigh the morality of her decision, or if she was about to use magic for good. As soon as the emperor had said “And so, as a result,” she grabbed Yeva and pulled her away.

  Yeva must have sensed the danger as well, for she didn’t cry out in shock when Zelda grabbed her. In fact, she seemed to go with it after the immediate inertia from standing still.

  The guards, in that crucial half-second from the platform to the crowd, had not reacted to Zelda and Yeva. Surely, they had seen her, but perhaps out of respect for the emperor’s specific plan, they had not made a move to stop her. Now that hell had broken loose, the guards growled like demons, trying to pull through the crowd to the two young girls, but that was easier said than done for them.

  The screams of magi dying filled Zelda’s ears. Each cry pierced her soul, flashing her back to the mob from nearly two months ago on the day her mother died. Will this ever end?!? Will it stop?? Please, stop!

  She didn’t dare turn around, worried it would slow her down. She held Yeva’s hand as if the girl’s life depended on it—which it did. Escaping through this rioting mass of people without getting separated might spell the difference between life and death.