King of Chaos

by Dave Gross

  Daring a glance upward, I saw the circling death demons—and above them, a human figure rapidly descending.

  At last, Varian had come for me!

  I feigned a parry of my foe's next attack, instead stepping aside to throw a short punch into his already-battered face. The way was clear for me to leap, but a lingering qualm held me back. Escape was not enough.

  Raising the Ray once more, I gazed into my opponent's eyes. "Crusader, this is where you fall."

  "Destroy her!" he shouted. "All of you, do it n—!"

  I thrust the point of the Ray through the symbol of Iomedae upon his breastplate. His final word dribbled crimson over his chin.

  The sight of his demise made the mob hesitate. That brief pause was all I needed to vault the rail and fall.

  I splashed into the foul runoff, both shins cracking as I had feared. Gripping my legs, I prayed twice: once for the blessing to heal my injuries, second for forgiveness for asking so much of the Inheritor. Merciful Iomedae healed my legs.

  Staggering to my feet, I ran for the lip of the falls. Behind me, the mob of demons and cultists poured into the riverbed, clamoring for my death.

  A grave-cold bolt struck me on the shoulder, another on my hip. My soul shuddered at the touch of the essence-shriveling spell. The wings of the death demons beat close behind me. I could not allow them to slow me.

  I ran to the edge and leaped into open space, turning to slash the flying demons. The Ray cut through the face of the first. The second demon clutched the blade and tried to wrest it away, but the sword's holy light seared its taloned hands. Despite its agony, the fiend held onto the sword, tearing it from my grip and flinging it away.

  My heart sank as I saw it flying through the air, falling in its own arc toward the befouled waters below us. Without the Ray, I could never defend myself against such fiends and villains as I had faced in Undarin. I was lost.

  Except for my ally, whose flying body dove toward me. I opened my arms to welcome the rescue. "Count!"

  But even as I spoke, I saw that my rescuer was not Varian Jeggare. Hands as strong as my own closed on my arms, denting my armor even as they arrested my fall. They pulled me close enough to smell my savior's breath, its rotting stench barely covered by the scent of cloves.

  Behind a mask of hammered gold, Prince Kasiya's withered lips parted to reveal his long, sharp fangs. He smiled.

  Chapter Fourteen

  The Mourning

  Radovan

  More than the demons of Undarin, it was the storm that chased us up the river. Ahead to the west, the sky was gray above a swamp that spread as far as I could see past the southern plateau. Behind us, the sun peered at us through a black eye. Yellow lightning licked around the purple clouds. I counted to seven before the thunder rolled up behind us. The horses screamed.

  The storm was getting closer. Either that or I'd been hanging out the carriage window too long and spooked 'em.

  I ducked back inside and settled down on the front seat. What I saw across the map table wasn't any more encouraging than the sky.

  The boss had a half-full wineglass clipped to the corner of the table. In front of him lay the Lexicon of Paradox, its pages opened to the point near the end, where somebody had torn it in half.

  Beside the Lexicon was the boss's open journal, or the latest volume anyway. He'd started one fresh for this project. A pen, a quill, and a brush danced over its pages.

  While he waggled a finger and stared at the pages, the pen wrote out letters in a foreign language. Even though I couldn't understand the words, I could see they were exactly the same as the ones on the Lexicon, right down to the handwriting.

  The quill and brush worked on the drawings, sketching out scenes of sacrifice and vivisection.

  Vivisection. That was one my least favorite words I'd learned from the boss over the years. It was a word that came up a lot in our line of work.

  The carriage wheels hit a rut, scattering the riffle scrolls and spell sticks across the table. Wine bottles clinked beneath the table. By the sound I could tell at least some of them were empty.

  The bottles hadn't been down there before we went into Undarin. The boss had killed a few since coming back from failing to rescue Oparal.

  That was bad. Usually a new book, even an evil one like the Lexicon, kept the boss's mind so busy that he didn't want a drink. This time it wasn't enough. He was obsessed and drunk at the same time. Something told me that made it a bigger problem than usual.

  The carriage hit another rut, a bigger one. Wine splashed onto the boss's shirt cuff and stained the corner of the journal. I grabbed the glass like to set it aside while he tugged a handkerchief out of his sleeve to mop up the spill. While he wasn't looking, I tossed back the rest of his wine, figuring if it was in me, it couldn't make him any drunker.

  The boss kept his attention on his spell. I thought about helping to straighten up, but he didn't like anybody touching his papers.

  The table wasn't the only thing that was a mess. The boss couldn't stop running his free hand through his hair, leaving him looking like a mad hermit instead of a count. I still couldn't see the gray he'd started developing a few years back. Ever since we left Tian Xia, he'd lost the gray he'd started growing a few years back. One day, I knew I'd catch him dying it.

  Come to think about it, he'd been mighty spry lately, especially during our tour of Kyonin. It was like he'd been to Thuvia for the famous sun orchid elixir, which guys as rich as the boss bid on to stay young forever. But he hadn't been out of my sight lately, except for a few weeks in the winter, when he went off to visit the Queen of Thorns.

  He waved the pen, quill, and brush away, letting them fall on the table. He'd finished copying what he had left of the Lexicon. The rest was missing, torn away a long time ago by the looks of its bark-like cover.

  "What do you say, boss? Time for a break?"

  He gnawed on a knuckle while comparing the original to the copy. Lowering his head to peer at the tiny print, he let his tangled hair fall over the Lexicon. The handwriting changed from page to page, sometimes right in the middle of a bloodstain. It was like nobody wrote much in that book before something bad happened to them and somebody else had to take over.

  The boss flipped back a few pages, mumbling while he compared the original to his copy. I couldn't understand a word he was saying. The more he put his nose into the Lexicon of Paradox, the crazier he got.

  "You've got to sleep, boss," I said. "Come on, you've been awake way too long."

  "Not yet. First I have to understand this. The implications of the oscillating spirit-vessels alone ..." He raised his head and tilted it to the side. For a second, he seemed to see me. "That made no sense, did it?"

  "That magic stuff never makes sense to me. You're tired. Go to sleep."

  He stared straight ahead. "No. They're still after us. She wasn't there. I searched all along the bloody river, but my spells last only so long. There were more demons pouring out of the city every minute."

  "Come on, boss. Gimme the book." I reached for it.

  "No!" He snatched it back. "I have to learn where the other half is hidden. I need to copy it again, this time in my own hand. Only then can I consign it to my memory library. Perhaps then I will be able—"

  "Boss. You're no good to anybody like this. The book, it's making you twitchy." I reached for it.

  "No! You cannot take it from me."

  Don't touch that!

  I pulled back my hand. I knew that voice, but I hadn't expected to hear it again—not in this world, anyway.

  That book will mess you up!

  "What do you care, you little turd?"

  "Pardon me?" said the boss.

  Hey, I care! The others may have given up on you, but I'm still your pal.

  "Quang?"

  "Quang? Quang? What is Quang?" said the boss. He checked the windows and under the table.

  He was in worse shape than I'd thought.

  The first time I'd heard the
imp's voice was after the demons of the Witchbole cut me open to make a gate to the Abyss. That's when I met Quang and all the rest of my devil ancestors, the twisted sicks who'd pruned and spliced my family tree all the way down to me. Their idea was to turn me into their own personal gate from Hell. Unluckily for them, the demons got to me first. Luckily for me—depending on how you look at it—I made a deal with the devils.

  "I'm not talking to you." I pointed at the boss. "Quang, how come you can talk to me? I thought only Viridio could do that now."

  "Where is this Quang?" snapped the boss.

  I held up a hand.

  I don't have a lot of time, Spikes. Just take my word for it. You got to get clear of that book. And then you got to get away from the Worldwound. What were you thinking coming here, anyway? We're smarter than that, you and me.

  "Speak for yourself, you little twerp." I blinked and realized I'd insulted myself. "Anyway, don't call me Spikes. I always hated that."

  "To whom are you speaking?" said the boss. He shook his head and sat up straight, his voice clearer than it had been. He was a little more like his usual self.

  "It's Quang. You know, my imp."

  That got his attention. He shut up and listened. A second later, he put his head down on the table, as if he were listening to the wood.

  Just go. Get as far away from the Worldwound as you can. And leave that book behind.

  "You sound scared."

  You should be scared, too! Don't forget, you're connected to the Abyss as well as to Hell. Since what went down in Kyonin, there are plenty of demons who know what you are.

  "What's Viridio think of this? How come I can't hear him? Where are the others?"

  They know better than to be anywhere near when you're so close to the ...Uh-oh. We're going to have to ...Oh, angel balls! Quang's voice faded, like he was moving away.

  I thought about the little hell my devils gathered in to look through me, its slick walls, half stone and half flesh. When I'd met them, their eerie voices echoed through a passage I couldn't see. Now I wondered where that passage went.

  "Quang, where'd you go?"

  The imp didn't answer.

  "Listen, boss, this book might be more wrong than we realize. Let's put it away for a while."

  "I must finish studying it."

  "No, you got to sleep." I snagged the original and the copy he'd made in his journal.

  "Give that back this instant."

  "Nope, it's mine now. You can have it back after you sleep."

  He glared at me. I glared back. We had a little standoff.

  "Listen, boss, I'll put it right here." I took his satchel from beneath the table and pushed all the scrolls and sticks inside, then the books. I lifted the seat and stuffed the whole shebang inside. "Satisfied?"

  "Do not flatter yourself that you could keep that from me if I wished to take it."

  "Yeah, I know. Don't hurt me."

  He started to turn away but then whipped back to glare at me. "Are you patronizing me?"

  I didn't know which answer would set him off worse, so I said, "Maybe."

  He glared some more before a yawn spoiled the effect. He folded his coat for a pillow and lay down on the seat. Since Variel had refurbished the carriage, it was almost the size of a bed. "Wake me in an hour."

  I reached for the carriage door and stopped myself.

  If Quang wanted me away from the book, maybe that meant there was something in it I wanted to see. Maybe something bad for him.

  Maybe a way for me to get rid of those devils once and for all.

  All quiet-like, I opened the seat lid and snuck out the boss's journal, leaving the original book inside the satchel. If there was a magic reason the book was bad news, maybe it was safe to take a peek at the copy. Besides, if there was something about the book making the boss peculiar, maybe Jelani would have some idea what to do about it.

  I waited until I heard the boss snoring. He always says he doesn't snore, but that's only true when he hasn't been drinking. I tucked the journal under my jacket, opened the carriage door, and swung out onto the runner.

  There was my phony pony, keeping pace alongside the carriage, right where I'd left it. I jumped right into the saddle, and it didn't even squeal. A real horse would have bit me rather than let me jump onto the saddle. Phony ponies are the best.

  After twisting around to put the journal in the saddlebag, I stood up to check the sky. Still nothing coming after us but the storm.

  A nasty idea crept into my brain. What if the storm was full of demons, and they'd been chasing us the whole time?

  Sometimes I give myself the shudders.

  Seeing me peer around made Kala suddenly look over her shoulder. Then Kronug and Gannak did the same, and they all caught my creepy feeling.

  That was fine. We needed to be jumpy, ready to hide or fight at the first sign of incoming demons. It was only a matter of time before a patrol spotted us.

  Since losing four of their own, the crusaders had gone back to keeping their own company. Nobody had it as bad as Dragomir, who'd been snippy even with his own people. I never heard Aprian raise his voice to the guy, but the first time we stopped to rest the horses, he'd taken Dragomir aside and had a quiet chat. That calmed Dragomir, but there was a darker storm in his eyes than there was above our heads.

  Maybe they didn't feel safe unless they outnumbered the Kellids. Maybe they blamed the boss for not finding Oparal, or maybe they blamed me for leaving her. The only good thing was that the stupid unicorn stuck with them, riding between Naia and Jelani.

  I wanted to chat with Jelani, but not if it meant tangling with the unicorn. I decided to wait until we made camp.

  Over on our side, Arni ran between me and Alase. He and Tonbarse were getting along the way he and the unicorn never did, which was kind of weird since Arni was bred to hunt wolves. Alase shot me a sympathetic look. Or maybe it was a different kind of look. It didn't matter. Even before our bad night in Undarin, I was feeling pretty damn far from frisky. Maybe later I'd show her a good time.

  Even thinking that, I felt a pang of guilt for no good reason. We weren't in Ustalav, I told myself. I could never go back there anyway. I hadn't promised that witch a damned thing.

  Besides, she wasn't even that good-looking.

  That last thought made me feel guiltier and meaner than ever. I kicked the pony, even though it did whatever I wanted just by thinking it, and rode up with the Kellids.

  They'd taken our loss in stride, maybe because now we'd lost fewer Kellids than crusaders. Valki had stopped bragging about how he would have killed every demon in the tower, stolen the book, and razed the town behind him. Only Kronug looked like he was about to cry, which was surprising. I'd taken him for a tough guy. Maybe he just had a stomachache.

  I rode ahead to get out of the dust of the carriage wheels. I felt bad for the wagon drivers. They wanted to move side by side, but the boss had made it clear he didn't want two sets of wheel tracks for the demons to follow.

  Aprian rode around the other side of the Red Carriage and came up beside me. "How is the count?"

  "Tired." I figured that's all he needed to know.

  "Everyone will need to rest soon, especially the horses."

  He was right about that. "Let's get some cover first."

  "Agreed." He said it like it was the two of us who were in charge.

  Come to think of it, I guessed we were, as long as the boss was asleep. That idea didn't bother me as much as it might have done a few years back. In Ustalav, I'd been kind of in charge of some Sczarni, and the boss was letting me hire the guards these days. So far, none of them had turned on us, so I figured I was doing a good job.

  "On behalf of the troops, I want to thank you."

  "What?"

  "Naia told me you stayed back to fight beside the captain."

  I shrugged. He was trying to say something nice, but it only made me feel bad. "For all the good it did."

  "After we met in Storasta, O
paral told me about you and the count."

  "Well, you got to understand she's got a particular point of view. We're not as bad as all that."

  "She said you saved her once before, in a city of thorns and demons."

  "She told you that?"

  He nodded.

  "What do you know? Maybe she had a soft spot for me. Back in Kyonin, even though it was hard to tell sometimes, we were on the same side all along."

  "I hope the same is true this time," he said.

  "I figure it is."

  He rode beside me without talking for a while. Then he said, "A man like you could distinguish himself in the crusade."

  I almost laughed. I should have seen that one coming. "Forget the recruitment pitch, Sarge. I like the job I got."

  "I know," he said, almost but not quite smiling. "Still, we count quite a few Chelaxians among our ranks."

  "Many of them hellspawn?"

  He shook his head. "No. Not many who have been demon-bound, either."

  I remembered what Jelani told me about Aprian's demon possession. Of course I'd told the boss, who explained to me how it was different from what I'd gone through. "Yeah, but you got better. I was born the way I am, and that won't ever change."

  "I sympathize. There are those among my superiors who will never forget that I was once the vessel for a fiend. But the way Oparal saw it, you and I are not so different. Neither one of us chose what happened. We're men, not fiends."

  "I get what you're saying, but it's not the same. What you had was like a fever. Now you're cured. Me, I got Hell bred into my bones. Even when Viridio ain't home, I've still got the blood of devils in my veins."

  "When I was possessed, my body remained as it is, but the demon took control."

  "For me, it's the other way around. The devil wants to tell me what to do, but he can't make me." That was mostly true. When my devils came through, I got mad real easy. Sometimes I got confused. Once I bit off a hag's head, but I'm not sure that wasn't my idea. Anyway, so far I always ended up on top.

  So far.

  Aprian sat back in his saddle. "Your situation is certainly unusual."