Demorn: City of Innocents (The Asanti Series Book 2)

by David Finn

  ‘Roberts,’ he grunted. ‘Back in Babelzon.’

  She laughed softly beneath the iron mask, her fingers cradling his face.

  ‘Does he pay you much?’

  He shook his head slowly. ‘Match payments. Shakedowns. Not much. I’m too old for the Arena or the Run. That’s what he says. My mask is all burnt out.’

  She slapped him hard with an open hand, teleporting a few feet away before he could react.

  ‘Take it off,’ she said, her voice flat and mechanical.

  ‘But I need it—’

  There was a whir behind her iron face and the metallic eyes glowed a dangerous blue.

  ‘You don’t. Take it off before I blow a hole through the side of your head. Consider this my first order.’

  Guard Dog unbuckled the old tiger mask, throwing it away.

  She blasted it, the thin material burning up in the vivid blue energy from her iron eyes.

  Alex looked at him, her lovely face smiling. Just as he had imagined it would be.

  ‘See, you’re the same, you haven’t changed. Just as strong. Just as vicious. Just as powerful. You could probably kill me if you really wanted to, Guard Dog.’

  ‘I don’t want that.’

  She patted him on the shoulder, checking out the maze with mild disinterest.

  ‘Good. Some masks are disguises. Some can blow a hole in the side of a building. Most are empty lies. Roberts used it to keep your prices down.’

  Guard Dog flexed his shoulder. It was a bit tender, but healing. ‘Why did you come here?’

  Alex placed a metal boot on the inert body of the Ogre.

  ‘Beating this thing was just a battle, not the War.’

  She held out a graceful hand. ‘Give me the amulet. That’s my second order.’

  Without even thinking, he did so. Alex looked at the bodies of the Guards scattered throughout the lair.

  ‘Is anybody left?’

  He shook his head. The neural net was completely silent. The maze was a graveyard.

  ‘I guess it’s sad everybody had to die for me to get this.’

  Guard Dog shrugged. They were gone; the way of the Guards was like that.

  Alex smiled sweetly, hanging the amulet around her neck, shifting it under her stunning white jumpsuit.

  ‘That’s the spirit, it’s a mercenary life.’

  Energy beams swept the room, prowling the walls. He watched with suspicious eyes as the lair was lit up by the visor’s beams. They lit up strange symbols upon the walls, visible despite the years of refuse covering them.

  Finally she found a part of one wall which seemed more like dirty frozen ice than stone. Her gloved hands moved across the surface, until suddenly it cracked open, helped by penetrating blasts.

  Inside the ice, there was a strange skeleton, although the details were blurry. He went to assist her, but even as he took his first step, he was shifted back to where he was standing, bewildered.

  Alex blasted aggressively from her visor, but she could not shatter the remaining layers. The mask whirred nosily, surely near the limit of its mechanics.

  Finally, cursing, and with a final blast of power, she gave up, slamming her glove against it.

  But her voice to him was wryly sarcastic. ‘Gods will have their favorites, it seems. I’m on the trail of a colleague.’ She brightened. ‘So, Guard Dog, I need a bodyguard. Do we have a deal?’

  His years on the grind had taught him the value of a dollar. But he knew exactly how few dollars there were in the cage fights behind him. And how fewer in front of him.

  ‘How much?’

  ‘Forget about match payments. 20K a month, a serviced apartment, bonuses. Roberts out of your life and off your damn telephone.’

  ‘It sounds good,’ he rumbled.

  Alex spat onto her gloved palm. ‘We can draw up a contract but honestly, I’ll kill you if you break your word anyway.’

  Her smile was stunning.

  ‘Why me?’ he growled huskily.

  ‘I like my killers hungry. They appreciate the meals more.’

  Guard Dog laughed, his stomach rumbling. He felt better than in months, maybe years. Life surged through him. With his own limited understanding of his powers, Guard Dog realized he was growing stronger.

  Alex smirked. Her grip was strong and sure.

  ‘Plus, I like a man with a few scars.’

  The crystal amulet shone a stunning aqua, and she held it up, lighting up the lair like a miniature sun.

  The laser maze that led to the cave grew pale.

  Guard Dog looked at the patterns surrounding them, which seemed to almost tell magnificent stories to his untutored eyes. He gazed in wonder at the amulet.

  Alex waved her hand dismissively.

  ‘Gods are egotists. They love to tell the story of their lives in their tombs. They can never go quietly.’

  She studied the images carefully, all leading to the giant fossilized skeleton inside the dirty layers of ice, until the amulet dimmed.

  ‘Well, I’ve got a lead. I hope you like ghosts and ghouls and things that go bump in the night.’

  Guard Dog was wary. ‘Where we going?’

  She took his hand.

  ‘Some people call it a fantasy land. Firethorn. But I always get the nightmare tour. So pardon my cynicism.’

  The two of them flickered and vanished from the vile maze.

  Guard Dog opened his eyes. They were in a glass elevator.

  Alex was reclining on the red leather couch, eyeing him curiously. Her iron mask was gone. The white bodysuit was identical, the zip slightly down, revealing the top of her breasts.

  The pistol lay in her gloved hands, a trifle too casual. Her eyes were a perfect emotionless blue. Her long platinum-blonde hair had the single shock of pure black.

  His hand went to his shoulder. The old wound was healed.

  Guard Dog found his voice, slow and deliberate. He hadn’t spoken real words in so long. ‘Dark Lady, I remember . . . how?’

  ‘You caught a bullet not long after I hired you.’ She smiled, a small bottle of her potion in her hand. ‘You’ve proven very loyal. One of those bonuses we talked about.’

  ‘Thank you, Dark Lady.’

  She almost looked shy.

  ‘It’s okay, Sam.’

  There was a sound beside him. A pale, beautiful brunette young woman twisted in her sleep, face covered in dirt and blood, dressed in a striking black kimono, bright red sneakers upon her feet. A long pale scar ran down her left cheek.

  ‘Her name’s Demorn. Princess of the Swords. She’s a bit of a difficult bitch. But we’re stuck with her on this mission, OK?’

  The girl twisted violently in her light slumber, her fingers gripping the handle of a katana which suddenly appeared, the metallic edges burning with an eerie purple flame. She moaned, cursing in some alien tongue.

  Guard Dog nodded, suspicious. His mind was filled with memories. He didn’t trust this slight woman in the kimono. His vague memories placed her as an enemy and rival to the Dark Lady, not a friend.

  ‘She has bad dreams,’ Alex said matter-of-factly. ‘So don’t get too close to that crazy fucking blade.’

  ‘You should get some sleep, Dark Lady.’

  She rapped her fingers against the glass elevator, talking absently. ‘I’m fine. Call me Alex, especially when we’re alone.’

  ‘Do you have bad dreams, too?

  Alex looked into the fire. Her voice was devoid of her normal sarcasm, laconic, almost kind.

  ‘I’ve died too many times to dream, honey. Too many times.’

  End Interlude

  2

  * * *

  Demorn felt a hand on her shoulder and she woke from the dream, images fading like old cartoon memories. Instinctively, she went for her katana, fingers flicking around the handle as she lurched upward.

  ‘Rest easy. You’re safe.’

  Alexandria’s voice was low and calm. Demorn relaxed.

  She opened her eyes. The p
urple sunglasses were pushed back over her hair. She was in the glass elevator.

  The sea was no longer a bed of burning flame. Through the glass doors she looked out upon a vast, hollow crater, covered in skeletons of many different sizes and life-forms.

  The elevator descended deeper into the huge crater. Its high sides towered over them, seeming to peer into their tiny box, dominating their thoughts and imagination.

  ‘Do you think it is Hell?’ Alex said, looking suspiciously out at the dark scene.

  Demorn was quiet, looking at the countless inert skeletons. ‘For them, it was.’

  Demorn searched for patterns in the skeletons. But they seemed like blank death, an open graveyard that played no favorites and held no sentiment.

  The elevator came to a stop on the crater surface.

  Guard Dog had fallen back into a light doze and Alex jostled him to full wakefulness. He looked sourly and dumbly at the surrounding crater, lurching to his feet. From Dog’s glazed expression Alex knew that his intelligence and earlier awareness had faded. They never lasted long. Some of his scars and cuts had healed as he slept, but he would always be damaged.

  With the butt of her katana handle, Demorn pushed the glass lift door open, letting the warm feedback from her purple sunglasses mingle with the bones scattered through the crater, death in soft focus.

  Feeling suddenly detached from the grimness, Demorn grinned.

  ‘Here we are, at the bottom of the world. There’s a country album title in all of this.’

  Alex chuckled. ‘Funny stuff, Fearless Leader. But nobody listens to albums anymore.’

  Her red sneakers touched the granite surface. The pebbles slid in the crater as the ground rumbled. She bent to the ground, her fingers touching the shaking rubble.

  Magic, Demorn thought with a cold wisdom. Always magic.

  The earth cracked and shook violently. Behind her, the glass lift cracked and Guard Dog was tossed around in the plush cage.

  A huge golden idol erupted from the cracks in the earth, tearing past the granite and the clutter of bones and dust. Purple gems blazed in the idol’s head. The idol screamed and howled some insane death chant, some voodoo of the soul which Demorn knew on a primal level. The idol had no hair or clothing, save for jewels. The expression upon the golden face was awful, cruel pride.

  The hideous creature viciously beat its fat belly and breast with jewel encrusted hands. It pounded its body in rhythm with the voodoo chant.

  A vivid excitement ran through Demorn.

  On either side of her the skeletons shifted and moved. A great moaning echoed through the cavern.

  Her green eyes flashed through the sunglasses to Alex, trapped behind a wall of walking Bone.

  ‘Come on, Alex, let’s go Death Match Mode!’ she cried. She sped toward the savage, golden idol, her dark kimono fluttering.

  Alex hollered in violent agreement, slashing her massive Bowie knife as she disappeared behind the wall of dancing Bone.

  The idol screamed and swung hard and fast at Demorn with its jeweled hand. She ducked at the last moment, the air bruised by the mighty, powered fist.

  The skeletons were swarming the crater, coming like the plague, cutting her off from Alex and Dog, locking her in solo battle with this bloated wannabe god.

  Her katana scratched over the idol’s skin, metal and fire cutting and marking the creature’s obese arm. It boomed out a massive roar of anger. The cut blazed purple. Her eyes flicked to the sides of her vision.

  She saw skeletons gyrating, dancing like mindless automatons to his horrible chant. They created a hollow space around the idol and herself, vacant spectators to the battle.

  The creature boomed out a mocking laugh, clapping its jeweled hands viciously. The Bone mimicked him, half in unison, half nowhere near in synch.

  Behind the idol, a small temple crystallized in the air, glittering with gaudy symbols. It was small, almost cheap looking, but seething with dark power.

  The idol beat its chest like an ape from the deep jungle. Many of the skeletons and rotting bodies fell to their knees in worship of the blazing shrine.

  Demorn didn’t care what it all meant; she just didn’t want to go under yet. She would play every trick card in her deck before she joined the line of the dancing dead.

  She drew the Athena gun, blowing away some of the golden trinkets on the shrine. She ducked and weaved through the idol’s drunken, heavy swings.

  Demorn looked up, grimly satisfied. The idol was bleeding, its blood as red as her own.

  ‘A stupid, cheap throne for a pauper’s king.’

  Demorn shot out a skeleton token hanging from the golden throne, laughing when the idol screamed and howled.

  ‘Aw, how touching. I prick it, you bleed.’

  She heard a returning roar from a familiar source. Guard Dog was still landing punches with the horde of Bone and dead flesh.

  She sank a couple more bullets into the tokens. Bone started crumbling. The Shrine was pretty empty now, and the coverage of Bone in the crater was thinning.

  Demorn leapt toward the idol, landing on the fat stomach. She pressed her katana into the burnished gold, sank it deeper and deeper, rich thick blood spilling down the glittering surface.

  The jewels encrusting the idol glimmered in the twilight, sharp edges rubbing up against her kimono clad form, bruising and cutting her.

  The pain was nothing. Demorn cursed in Asanti, looking directly into the jeweled eyes of the monster. She could feel the Pain Locket upon her breast, burning upon her skin, filled with both agony and greed.

  She felt a shudder as a planet of lost souls was swallowed into Xalos. The corrupt spell of the totally damned. No formula to save them, no reversal.

  And then suddenly there was nothing. The blade pushed into thin air. She landed softly on the stony ground, fire flashing off the blade. Her flashy red sneakers had become combat boots. Demorn wore dark pants and a black jacket in place of the kimono.

  A sonic boom reverberated through the cavern. Hundreds of Bone collapsed, their voodoo dance suddenly over, hazy clouds of dust billowing through the crater.

  A tiny golden idol clattered to the granite surface, a miniature of the bloated original. Demorn picked it up carefully.

  Alex came through the dust cloud, running her hand through her blonde hair, laughing, as Guard Dog mercilessly trampled the bones of the dead behind her, seemingly unaware or untrusting they would not respawn.

  ‘He’s had a tough one,’ she explained. ‘The big guys take getting knocked down hard.’

  Alex prowled suggestively close. ‘Death Match Mode? What ever did you mean, O Holy Princess.’

  Demorn grinned, throwing the idol away like the cheap magic gimmick it was. ‘Haven’t heard that one, Alex? I’m hurt. It’s one of my most famous sayings.’

  Alex rolled her eyes. ‘Ah. I never paid a lot of attention to ancient history.’

  The verbal cut and thrust was back, an edgy old friend.

  ‘I save it for when the chips are really down. Me against the horde, no replay, no escape, no extra life. Death Match Mode.’

  She kicked at the crumbling remains of a skeleton with her boot. She bent down to examine the shards of gold scattered across the ground.

  ‘Did you think we could beat the Bone?’ Alex asked.

  Demorn shrugged. ‘We got a win. I got lucky shooting the shrine.’

  Alex was thoughtful. ‘How often do you go to Death Match Mode?’

  Demorn took off her sunglasses and looked at Alex with clear green eyes. ‘Firethorn is a Death Match. You know that. That’s why we are called there. That’s the bond of the Innocents.’

  Alex looked closely at her, but Demorn said no more.

  The moment passed, then Alex shrugged and went back to examine the lift controls. No lights shone on the display.

  ‘Well, it’s completely blown out. This was a one way trip down. We’re on our own.’ Alex looked glumly around the empty crater. ‘All alone at th
e bottom of the world.’

  Demorn walked deeper into the crater, feeling the horrible emptiness of being so far down in the land of the dead men.

  The broken ground was steaming. She felt the granite surface with her left hand, hot and uneven. She felt a reverberation, deep beneath the earth.

  ‘This isn’t the bottom of the world, you know,’ she whispered. ‘The world goes so much deeper.’

  Demorn saw something glinting in the rubble. Great steel bars, an empty, frightening darkness behind them. Demorn looked at the words upon the bars, written in an ancient script, strong protection wards pressed into the iron.

  Fear flickered in her heart. An intimation of some terrible waking end.

  ‘What does it say?’

  Demorn could hear screams from below, howls of despair. A great sadness washed across her.

  ‘It is Ja-Daluth,’ she whispered. ‘The Iron Prison.’

  ‘Fuck,’ Alex said. ‘So it’s really here, an entrance point.’

  Demorn glanced at her with a weary sadness. ‘Were you looking for it?’

  Alex shrugged. ‘We’ve all got our missions, Princess.’

  Demorn shook her head. The weary sadness encased her.

  ‘It is not for us to cross these iron bars. And I won’t follow you if you do, Alex.’

  Alex grinned. She had sheathed the glowing knife, and in her hand was a small glowing grenade.

  ‘I keep telling you, Demorn. You’ve been gone two years. I’m the famous one. I do interviews. People want things.’

  Alex’s gloved hand gripped the iron bar, and she flung the grenade into the bleak darkness, the white glow spiraling into the depths.

  Demorn pulled her viciously away. The grenade detonated with a rumble and a blinding flash, seen through the bars like a distant lightning storm.

  In fury, Demorn lashed to strike Alex across the face, but the girl ducked, punching Demorn across the jaw, dancing away.

  ‘Are you fucking insane?’

  Alex’s face was aglow.

  ‘No, I’m rich. It’s a marker blast.’ The Bowie knife passed from hand to hand. ‘Ja-Duluth is a dimensional legend, the prison of the gods. Important people want to know where it is and they pay me a lot of money to find out. Doesn’t that excite you?’