Scarlet Tempest, #1

by Juniper King

  “Disloyalty from someone as inconsequential as an errand boy is something I simply cannot let stand. You should have taken your money and left, deydre.”

  Lucan suddenly yelped in pain and I heard the sound of my sword clattering to the ground. The human holding my hair let go and I saw Lucan clutching the back of his head, face wincing in pain. His attention whipped around to Selynna, she’d finally gotten to her feet and, was that a shoe she was holding?

  I saw murder written in Lucan’s eyes. Before I could wrap my tail around the hilt of my sword, Lucan snatched it up off the ground and stalked towards Selynna.

  No. I pulled and strained against the hands holding me, but three human males were enough to keep me in place.

  Damn it. Teal had always been better at conjuring illusions than I was, he would have easily broken the minds of the three people holding him in order to slip away.

  This was bad. With these men holding me and my sword in someone else’s hands, I had few options and even fewer ideas of escape.

  Lucan stepped over the boundary of the rune circle without any difficulty. Selynna struggled against him but it was clear she had little strength, the runes somehow sapping her energy.

  I looked around, searching for anything I could use to slip my captors. My eyes caught on a knife strapped to the belt of the man holding my right arm, but before I could snatch it away from him, I heard a wet squelch.

  My head whipped around, dread pulsing through my body, terrified by what I might see.

  Time froze. My limbs went numb, lungs unable to inflate.

  Lucan and Selynna stood suspended in time, the blade impaled through her stomach. The look on her face, the shock as she looked down. The betrayal she must be feeling. The shame and helplessness I felt.

  Lucan wrenched the blade upwards, blood gushing endlessly from the gaping wound in her abdomen. Lucan ripped the sword—my sword—from her stomach and she collapsed to the floor, blood pooling around her.

  All I could hear was my heart thumping through my ears. Blood boiling in my veins.

  This feeling.

  I hadn’t felt this kind of bloodlust since I had seen Teal die.

  No. She wasn’t dead. Ayre would heal her just like he’d done after we escaped from Finfolkaheem, and I would rip Lucan apart with my bare hands. I would feel his blood drench my skin. The blade against my neck didn’t matter anymore. Nothing they could do would stop me from getting to her.

  My eyes flicked to the man on my right, more specifically, to the knife in his belt. I wrapped my tail around the grip and wrenched it from the sheath, stabbing the man behind me somewhere in the vicinity of his neck.

  The two men holding my arms loosened their grip in shock, enough for me to pull free, and the blade that was at my throat fell into my waiting hand. Hot blood splashed against my back as I ripped the blade out of the man’s throat and he staggered backwards. I slashed the knife across the left man’s throat and disemboweled the man on the right with my claws.

  All three men collapsed into bloody heaps within seconds of each other.

  I lunged forward, towards the rune circle that was beginning to glow with a blinding red light. What the hells had Lucan done?

  The ground began to rumble, floorboards throughout the room cracked and caved, spewing more red light from the foundation. The roiling of the floor picked up in intensity before violently surging, unsteadying me and dropping me to my hands and knees.

  I squinted against the light towards the opposite side of the room to where Ayre stood clutching a nearby pillar for balance, his own captors lying dead on the ground as well.

  An incredible force burst from the circle, throwing me bodily to the ground just after I had gotten to my feet. Humans screamed and bodies crumpled to the floor around me. I clenched my eyes shut against the searing light.

  The noise and shaking settled just as quickly as they had begun, my ears ringing in the sudden stillness. I opened my eyes.

  In the center of the rune circle, standing at full height over Selynna’s prone body as the dust settled around him, stood a humanoid figure, nothing more than a silhouette in the settling debris. He was tall, with wings held close against his back, and hands tucked into his pockets.

  It hit me all at once. The rune circle, the wings, the blood.

  My own blood ran cold as ice. I might not know much about daemon history or politics, but every Kimyrian knew of this daemon by reputation alone. It couldn’t be. This couldn’t be Selynna’s father. But that was who Lucan had been trying to summon, how could this have happened?

  The daemon prince looked down at Selynna and rolled her body out of his way with his foot like she was a piece of trash in his path. My claws itched to sink into his flesh, but even I wasn’t that stupid.

  He stretched his arms over his head, like someone who had just woken up from a long nap. “Lucan!” his voice boomed, arms happily outstretched, “How happy I am to see you again.” His obsidian black eyes glinted with excitement.

  I turned to see Lucan’s face, even his expression seemed guarded, like he hadn’t been expecting this outcome. “You… but you’re not…” he mumbled.

  “Of course, I am, this is my true visage. Years ago, you saw me in one of the many guises I use to visit Loam.”

  Lucan seemed to relax, “Yes, of course, Lord Muse, please forgive my ignorance. It is so wonderful to see you again.”

  Muse? This can’t be the daemon who was in this town twenty years ago, he’s been imprisoned for over fifty years.

  “Of course, my dear patron, now, if you would please release me from this circle.”

  Release? Could he still be locked in his prison? Even though he was standing before us here in Loam? Was that the reason Selynna had been trapped, because of her daemon blood? How had they recreated the circle?

  Lucan was hovering at the edge of the rune circle; his foot scuffed the edge of the ring.

  “Wait!”

  All it took was a simple swoop from Lucan’s foot, breaking the edge of the complete circle, and the weight of Alistair’s magic flooded out through the room like a rogue ocean wave.

  The leathery wings that had been pinned against his back unfurled with a flourish, stretching to their maximum length outside the dissolved barrier.

  I stood frozen in place, trying to make myself look as small and nonthreatening as possible in front of such a terrifying predator. I didn’t want a sudden stupid movement to be what drew Alistair’s ire. I looked across the room and saw Ayre mimicking my caution.

  We would be lucky if we got out of this room alive.

  With a deep exhale of satisfaction Alistair reeled in his wings to a loose fold against his back and placed his hands on Lucan’s shoulders. “Thank you, Lucan, you’ve been a great help.”

  Lucan smiled. The last smile he would ever make.

  With a movement as quick as a striking snake, Alistair gripped either side of Lucan’s head and twisted in a sharp motion, nearly breaking Lucan’s head clean off his shoulders before dropping him unceremoniously to the floor.

  The room was frozen. The gathered humans stood paralyzed in silence, their apparent Lord having just killed their figurehead and Muse’s most loyal follower.

  A woman screamed and everything that happened next happened in a blur.

  The humans all turned and clambered towards the door, tripping over one other in their haste. Alistair did always like to play with his food. Before they could even get close to their goal they floated up off the ground, legs still kicking and scrambling for traction.

  My breath caught in my throat. I had never seen the extent of a daemon’s powers let alone Alistair’s. He held the weight of no less than ten humans aloft, like he wasn’t exerting any effort at all.

  The humans began to writhe in unnatural ways, bending and twisting, screaming and pleading as bone punctured through skin and blood oozed out of fissures in their skin.

  Gods, he was crushing them.

  The screams pete
red out, replaced by the wet sound of bodies falling, littering the floor of the room with loud splats, hitting the ground and bending in sickening ways. I had seen a lot in my days, but this was gruesomeness far beyond my standards.

  Alistair exhaled with an over exaggerated, almost manic sigh. “It feels so good to finally be able to stretch my magic again. Do you have any idea what it’s like being trapped in a cage for fifty-five years? Thank the spirits I was able to reach such a manipulable fool, really made the last few years bearable.”

  “How were you able to break free from your brother’s spell?” Ayre’s voice called from across the room.

  Fool, don’t provoke him!

  Alistair blinked, appearing in front of Ayre as soon as the words had left his mouth and gripped him by the throat, lifting him off the ground. I made a move for my blade but froze in place, Alistair’s magic pinning me to the spot.

  “Do not speak of my brother in front of me, satyr.” I could hear Ayre choking from where I stood, his legs kicking. “That worthless excuse for a daemon prince chose humans over his own kind; over his own brother! If I ever see him again, this time I’ll do more than just tear off his wings.” After a moment of hesitation, he tossed Ayre to the ground and the force on me loosened. “Though I suppose I owe you two a debt of gratitude. After all, without the blood you brought I would never have been able to escape.”

  The blood. He spoke about her like she was an object, nothing more than a vessel. I bared my teeth, legendary daemon or not, I couldn’t hide my anger.

  “Oh? Did you care about this little half-blood? If there’s some sort of fetish you’re fulfilling there are plenty more humans running amok in this realm, I’m sure you’ll be able to find a replacement.

  “I do find myself wondering what poor excuse for a daemon would breed with a human in the first place. But I couldn’t rightly ask the humans here, now, could I? Well, listen to me ranting to any audience who will hear me. It was lovely chatting, it’s been so long since I’ve had a conversation with anyone but myself, but now that I’m free, my fun is only just beginning.”

  I startled as the doors shot open, banging loudly against the walls. He strode through the bodies and seeping blood towards the exit with a veritable bounce in his step. Within seconds of him stepping out into the sun I could hear screams floating through the air.

  I didn’t care, this town had damned itself. I had only one concern at the moment.

  I sprinted the few steps over to Selynna’s lifeless body and dove to my knees. I rolled her onto her back and pulled her shoulders into my lap, her eyes closed and face drenched in her own blood.

  I could see her insides.

  I looked pleadingly to Ayre, I didn’t care how desperate I must have looked. He knew how desperate I was.

  He collapsed to his knees beside me, hands fidgeting and clenching over her body. His usual calmness even in dire situations was replaced with despair and panic.

  “Aksel… I can’t fix this, I-I don’t…”

  “She’s still alive!”

  “I can’t! The shock to her body would kill her before it would heal her!”

  Ayre had saved her life after she had nearly been killed by a finman, he had saved me when my throat was practically ripped out. He would not let someone die if it was within his power to save them. There had to be a way.

  I looked down at Selynna’s tiny body lying unmoving in my arms, bleeding and broken. Her usually expressive features were still and slack. Would I ever see her smile again? Would I see her scowl, or hear her laugh?

  I held her as close as I could, wrapping my body around her. I could feel her heart beating so weakly in her chest. I could feel it reverberating through my own chest. A few weak, drawn out thumps and then… stillness. Earth shattering stillness.

  Silence turned to ringing in my ears. Droning. Deafening.

  I was right here. She was alive only seconds ago, she was up and fighting only minutes ago, and I did nothing to save her.

  Memories of Teal flashed through my mind. The same feeling of helplessness, of weakness. The same drip, drip, drip of their blood on the ground. How could I have let this happen again? I knew it was a mistake having her here with us. I should never have let her do this.

  My vision glazed over. I hadn’t cried since I’d watched my brother die. Tears fell onto Selynna’s face, mixing with her blood and sliding down her cheek.

  You can’t leave me.

  “Judging by the way you’re holding her,” I startled at the new voice. “Can I assume you two are not the ones responsible for my daughter’s death?”

  Another daemon. One I knew by more than reputation alone. Like Alistair, his body resembled that of a human, all but the telltale signs; black eyes, pointed ears, and two large S shaped horns extending from either side of his head. I had been so occupied with Selynna I hadn’t even heard him approach. He must have come in through the back, through the same door they’d dragged Ayre in from.

  “If you are responsible, I will truly enjoy peeling the skin from your bones.”

  This must be ‘Muse’. It was lucky that he’d had the foresight to use a fake identity even among humans. He glanced over to me with no hint of recognition in his eyes. Good. The last time I had seen him was almost thirty years ago when I threw the severed heads of his enemies at his feet.

  “We’re no more responsible for her death than you, hiding away until Alistair left.” I couldn’t hide the rage in my voice. Had he been there the whole time? He could have stopped this from happening!

  He nodded solemnly, “I do not know how much Alistair knows about the current political climate of Kimyr. Had he realized his throne is gone and that I was one of the parties accountable, I would likely have been added to the bodies littering the ground.” His eyes hardened then, “Is it true what he said, you are the ones who brought her here? To her death and to aid in the release of the greatest threat humanity and Kimyr have ever seen?”

  “How could we have possibly anticipated this? All she wanted was to know who her parents were and where she came from.” I gave him a weighted stare in return.

  He took a few steps towards us, crouching down in the puddle of blood. “…What is her name, deydre?” he asked quietly.

  “Selynna.”

  “Good,” he commented, “That was the name Lili wanted for her. I must truly be cursed to lose everyone I’ve ever held dear.” He touched her bloodied cheek, no longer speaking to Ayre or I. “But you will not be lost like the rest, Selynna, I swear to you that.

  “You,” he directed his attention over to Ayre, “Be ready to heal her. Her human body needs all the help it can get during the process.” Ayre stiffened. It wasn’t common knowledge that he had healing abilities. “I don’t have time for your prudence, satyr. You are Kyrakos’ boy, are you not? The heir to the Arcadian counsel who would rather shirk his responsibilities and waste his days as a brutish mercenary.”

  Ayre nodded hesitantly.

  “What do you mean heal her?” I interrupted. Selynna was already gone, I’d felt her heart stop, but I couldn’t help but feel the faintest glimmer of hope at his words.

  “There was nothing I could do on my own, but with Gremori here…” Ayre hedged.

  “As my offspring, her blood has natural healing properties, but there is only a short window in which my magic will revive her. I don’t have time for your hesitation or questions.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “It’s true, Aksel. I noticed it first after we left Woodburne, the burns she’d had would probably have killed a regular human. Some of the things that Raen had done… if she were fully human, I don’t think she would have survived long enough for you to find her.”

  “Enough, there is no more time.” Gremori interrupted, “Blood magic is not as clean as typical healing magic, a fragment of my life force will be siphoned into her body, bringing her back to consciousness and slowly weaving her organs back together. Were she a full daemon of my cla
n, her body would then begin to heal itself, but her magic is not strong enough. Your magic is painless. The faster you heal the damage, the sooner her pain will end.”

  “Okay,” Ayre said. I’m not sure if Gremori could hear it but having known Ayre for as long as I have, I could hear the slightest hint of hesitation in his voice.

  Without missing a beat, Gremori pulled a short, regal looking blade from his belt and slash it across his arm. Using the blood, he painted an intricate looking symbol on the palm of his hand.

  “On my count, satyr. Deydre,” he looked up at me, “You should be prepared to hold her down.”

  Before I could ask why, Gremori counted down from three, the rune on his palm glowing brighter and brighter, then slapped his hand down onto Selynna’s abdomen. Red light flared from where Gremori’s hand met her stomach and all hell broke loose.

  As soon as the magic touched her, Selynna’s back arched violently off the ground, sending me into a near panic before I remembered Gremori’s words. I grabbed her shoulders only for her to start howling and screaming in agony as she writhed on the ground. Seconds felt like hours watching her scream in pain, but I could see the wound on her abdomen mending, the two magics working together to heal her as quickly as they could.

  Please hold on just a little longer.

  As the last of her skin weaved together, the magic flowing into her petered out and her body went limp, screams turning to abrupt silence.

  Ayre collapsed to the side, bracing himself by an elbow as he panted heavily. Even after all of the healing he had given her since she’d met us, I had never seen Ayre so depleted. But I could see the weak rise and fall of her chest, see some colour permeating the paleness of her cheeks.

  She was really alive. I felt like I could breathe again.

  But my sudden relief was gone as quickly as it had come, overshadowed by caution and distrust.

  “How did you know?” I asked him. It couldn’t have been a coincidence that Gremori showed up just in time to save his daughter. Had he known of Lucan’s scheme this whole time? Was he playing his part in some larger plan?