Demon's Throne

by K D Robertson

  “Oh, we need to talk. But I need you to come with me.”

  Rys dragged Orthrus to the control room. Fara looked around at the strange room in confusion.

  “So, what exactly are you trying to do in here? This is where you control the castle from, isn’t it?” Fara said. “Don’t tell me you’re going to move the castle to Anceston or something?”

  Rys paused, then looked at Orthrus. “Can I do that?”

  “Perhaps eventually. Castle Aion’s location is not fixed, although that is a complex situation,” Orthrus said after a moment’s thought. “But I doubt you have the power to maintain a mobile connection to the Labyrinth.”

  “Power, huh.” Rys nodded. “Sounds like a lot of what the castle can do comes down to power. And that power comes from the Labyrinth, doesn’t it?”

  Orthrus looked at Fara, then back at Rys. “In a matter of speaking.”

  Rys waved at the power slates. “The slates are made of the same material as the power conduits. Those conduits power the seal, which is what keeps me trapped here. But you said yourself that somebody could take them outside the Labyrinth.”

  “Not very far. But yes, they could. I do not follow.”

  “Why can’t I use the power of the castle to leave here? Or, more accurately, the power of the Labyrinth? Given they’re the same,” Rys asked. “Because I did that earlier when I put a slate in here. I couldn’t leave the keep, and then I could. If I surrounded myself in a bubble of magical energy drawn from here, why would the seal trap me here?”

  Orthrus remained silent, but Rys knew that the spirit was thinking.

  Meanwhile, Fara looked lost. She only knew the very basics of what the slates and castle did.

  “Yes, that might work. But the cost would be extortionate,” Orthrus said. “I do not recommend trying to go far. Or leave for very long. The damage that could be done to you if you ran out of power outside of the castle could be enormous. Ideally, someone could teleport you. Or you’d have a failsafe that teleports you back here.”

  Fara shook her head. “I can move fast, Rys. But I can’t teleport. Are you sure this is worth the risk?”

  “You’re the one who told me I needed to get out of the castle more,” he joked. When her expression didn’t budge, he shrugged. “I’ll test it out before I try it. But I’m the only person other than Grigor with the power to fight armies. If this works, it will also lower the suspicion as to why I don’t ever leave the manor.”

  Fara didn’t agree, but she didn’t disagree. Rys took that as a win.

  With Orthrus’s help, he was able to channel the castle’s power around his entire existence with a day’s practice. Rys was using magic drawn through the power slate. Originally, he’d reserved it for summoning, but this was far more useful right now.

  The hardest part was protecting his soul, as even that needed to be protected.

  “A little more,” Fara said, using her tails to detect Rys’s magic in the astral plane.

  Rys was a sorcerer. While it was possible to affect the astral plane with sorcery with sheer brute force, his ability to sense the effects was minimal.

  “I didn’t know you could do something like this,” Fara said.

  “If you couldn’t, angels and other astral beings would be immortal. It just takes obscene amounts of power to affect the astral plane,” Rys said. “It’s also what makes archangels effectively immortal. They exist as concepts in the greater astral plane. The amount of power necessary to truly kill one would vaporize Harrium.”

  “Really? Then what happened to the ones who are missing? I thought several died in the Cataclysm?” Fara asked.

  “They did die, but they come back. My old mentor called it ‘ether-touching’ as a new archangel inherits the power and memories of the old one through the astral plane,” Rys said. He ticked off fingers. “Azrael died first, when Hades was destroyed.”

  “Hades?”

  “One of the two continents. Home of the reapers. Don’t worry much about it, but it is the source of the death wind that makes sailing so dangerous,” he explained. “Next was Samael, I think. He went down at some point after Pandemonium—that’s the other continent that was destroyed—declared all out war against everybody. Raphael just vanished when the archangels leveled Pandemonium. Popular theory is that he was used as fuel to nuke the continent.”

  “Fuel,” Fara said flatly. “They used an archangel for fuel?”

  “To wipe out a continent and all traces of its inhabitants. You don’t know the angels. They’re not cuddly, friendly do-gooders. Rather, they’re frightening automatons of death and destruction that obliterate everything that gets in their way. There’s a reason it took a century for the entire Infernal Empire to push them back, even though the angels were weakened,” Rys said.

  Fara frowned and looked away. Her tails curled around herself protectively.

  After a few moments, she tried to say something. But then she stopped.

  “Can we talk after this?” she said. “The battle, I mean.”

  “We can talk anytime, Fara,” Rys said. “But I get what you mean. Let’s deal with this first.”

  They had an army to destroy.

  Chapter 29

  Orthrus advised Rys not to take very long. That turned out to be very ambitious.

  “I have literally hours,” Rys said.

  “Can you use magic like that?” Fara asked, alarmed.

  “So long as I only use my own power.” He frowned. “I might be able to stretch this out to half a night at best, but I need to get back, or find a Labyrinth entrance. The latter is technically faster. I’ll have a Malakin find one for me, just in case.”

  “I take it we’re going to run very fast,” Fara said.

  “Who said anything about running?” Rys said.

  He grabbed her by the waist and yanked her against him. She squealed and hit him in the chest instinctively.

  Fortunately, she hadn’t used her magic to strengthen her muscles yet. But he still felt his ribs shake from the impact. Fara hit like a battering ram.

  “Don’t do that, please,” Rys said.

  “That’s my line,” Fara snapped. She glared at him from within his arms. “A little warning, next time?”

  “Would you have snapped my neck if I tried to princess carry you?” he asked.

  “Why don’t you find out?” she growled.

  Ignoring her threats, Rys focused. The spell he was casting was a tricky one. He suspected he knew better versions of it, but that knowledge was hidden within the seal on his power.

  A glowing red circle of power appeared around their feet. Fara’s tails curled around them as she made sure she kept every part of her body inside the circle. He hadn’t told her what he was doing, but it seemed she had some idea.

  Rys finished his ritual. Shadow erupted around them, followed by a flash of red light.

  An instant later, they stood on a hillside. The mansion had vanished. A village was visible in the distance, a few torches burning as dusk approached.

  Fara ripped herself from Rys’s arms, her face turning pale. She collapsed to the ground. Her hands rose to her chest as she gasped for air, then held her bulging throat.

  “Oof, sorry about that. Teleportation with infernal sorcery is rough,” Rys said. He looked away in case she threw up. “We’ll need to do it once or twice more, too. I can’t go very far with this spell.”

  Groaning, Fara lay on the ground. “Why?”

  “Because it’s a shit spell and teleporting mortals is hard.” Rys shrugged. “It operates like a portal, and your body isn’t used to changing its physical position relative to Harrium like that.”

  “I don’t get it,” Fara moaned. “How come you’re fine?”

  “I’m a tough guy.”

  “Fuck you.”

  After a few minutes, Fara pulled herself back up. She rubbed her temples and looked around.

  “Where are we?” she asked.

  “Dunno. It’s not Castle Aion
, though,” Rys chirped.

  He rolled his arms and breathed in the air. This wasn’t true freedom, but he had escaped his prison for a few short hours. His surroundings were something other than an endless Labyrinth and his mansion.

  Returning was going to be painful, he realized. Especially as journeys like this were too risky to do often.

  Rys felt the power of the castle draining away with every second. How long would it take to rebuild the reserve of power he was drawing upon? A day? A week? Months?

  A problem to address later. For now, he needed to deal with Compagnon.

  He cast a brief spell and a glowing red needle hovered above his hand. It pointed almost due south-west.

  “Is that a compass?” Fara asked.

  “It’s a navigation spell. I tuned it so that it would guide me to our troops,” Rys said. He dismissed the needle. “Distance is done by feel, though. It might be one jump and then a jog.”

  “That’s a damn useful spell. How come you haven’t used it… Oh.” Fara grimaced.

  “Yeah. I actually know a lot of spells that would be useful if I wasn’t trapped inside a mansion and an unmappable Labyrinth that blocks teleportation,” Rys said.

  “Given the choice, I’d block your teleportation, too,” Fara mumbled.

  Rys frowned. “We’ll go the rest of the way on foot after the next jump, then.”

  That proved to be a wise decision, given Fara’s dinner ended up decorating the forest floor.

  Grimacing, Rys waited for her to recover. The second teleport had placed them within a few miles of their destination. Twilight descended around them, and purple rays from the sun scattered against the forest canopy.

  “This place really is in the middle of nowhere,” Rys said. “These trees look as old as I am.”

  “Older, even,” Fara croaked out.

  He looked over as she straightened up. Her tails shifted, and a trickle of water ran over her face. She washed her face clean with water conjured from the air, then cursed.

  “I am not going back with you,” she muttered. “I’ll crawl back if I have to.”

  “That won’t be necessary. I’ll win the battle, but you’ll have to do the cleanup,” Rys said. “Since when have you been able to summon water like that?”

  “It’s part of the same branch of techniques that my flames come from,” Fara explained.

  She remained wobbly, so Rys gestured for her to continue while she got her strength back.

  “Foxes have three primary disciplines of magic. Five, technically, but the clans argue over two of them.” Fara smirked and shook her head. “We’ve been united for centuries, but we still can’t agree on something that simple.”

  “I want to guess, but if you’re arguing over two of them, I suspect I’ll get them very wrong,” Rys said.

  “I’ll save you the trouble. The primary three are force manipulation, elementalism, and detection. The Pride and Garrote clans also have the physical discipline. Finally, only Pride actually teaches disruption, because everybody else hates my kind,” Fara said. She scowled at the reminder that her tail color separated from other foxes.

  “How many clans are there again? Six?” Rys said, remembering something about a “Six-Star Alliance.”

  “Five. Garrote are the spies and assassins. Pride, the warriors. Lotus, the merchants and diplomats. Gold are pompous pricks. And Seven-Leaf are the bitter remnants of the clans that Chief Taira destroyed while uniting our people,” Fara said.

  “That doesn’t sound very united.”

  “Things were better when she was around to manage things and crack heads. That’s why three of the clans are specialized. They stopped fighting her centuries before I was born.” Fara ran a hand through her hair. “Anyway, I can use elementalism. But enforcers like me don’t use it much, other than the spiritual flames. I’d rather punch someone than douse them with water.”

  Color returned to Fara’s face and she looked steady again.

  Rys cast his navigation spell, bringing up the glowing arrow. “This way.”

  They jogged at first, then ran once Fara got annoyed at Rys’s slow pace. She sprinted ahead of him and forced him to catch up.

  The forest was overgrown. Dense undergrowth obscured the ground, and thick roots protruded at random from beneath piles of leaves and small plants. Nocturnal wildlife began to creep out as darkness fell, their glowing eyes watching Rys and Fara.

  Only long experience and magic allowed Rys to move as fast as he could. No wonder the Compagnon army moved so slowly on its way to Port Mayfield. An army could move twenty to thirty miles a day on good roads, but this was closer to trekking through a jungle.

  More roads would be vital in the future, Rys decided. The forest helped him now, but he imagined a future where it prevented his armies from responding to a threat.

  “Do you ever turn your mind off?” Fara asked when they stopped for a brief break.

  Rys surveyed the surroundings while checking his spell and what he remembered of the map. They were close, but not close enough to detect his infernals yet.

  “I’ve never been one for meditation,” he said. “You’ve been awfully snippy today.”

  Fara winced. “Your teleportation didn’t help with that.”

  “It started before that. You nearly caved my chest in when I grabbed you at the mansion.”

  “Oh. That’s different.” Fara’s tails lowered to the ground, and she had the decency to look embarrassed. “You surprised me.”

  “So you punched me?” Rys asked. “I figured we were close enough that a little physical contact wouldn’t lead to that.”

  Fara rolled her eyes. “You’re the first person to sweep me into their arms in… forever, I think. My training and a century of experience tells me that being suddenly grabbed is bad. I haven’t had any reason to unlearn it until now.”

  “You’re not great with men, are you?” Rys mused.

  “Men aren’t the problem,” Fara said. “Like I said, I’d have been happy to roll around in your bed if this was a fling. But this might be something more and that’s… new to me.” She shifted uncomfortably. “Sorry. I’ll try not to hit you next time.”

  “No, it’s fine. I’m no stranger to women enforcing personal boundaries however they want. It comes with the territory of dealing with succubi.” He smirked. “They’re very used to doing what they want and react very extremely if taken out of their comfort zones.”

  “Please don’t compare me to a succubus.”

  “They’re very attractive women,” Rys said.

  “Rys.”

  He laughed and Fara giggled in response, her stony facade collapsing.

  Shortly after, they found the infernals. A few Ashen smoked cigarettes in front of an abandoned village, just off the main road to Anceston. Rys sensed the rest of the infernals hiding within the village itself.

  “Shit, boss, is that you?” Margrim shouted when he saw them. His cigarette fell from his hand, causing the albino dwarf to curse.

  He crushed the sizzling stick into the ground, only to jump as Rys clicked his fingers and reduced it to motes of prismatic light with hellfire. The Ashen gulped and stared at their summoner.

  “Yeah, definitely you,” Margrim said with a grin. “Grigor said you were up to something. Nice to have you with us in person, boss.”

  Ignoring a cigarette offered by the Ashen, Rys stood with them. He looked around the village. The demons lurked within the buildings or their shadows. None of the buildings were lit up, but moonlight remained an issue. An enemy scout could spot them if they wandered around.

  “Any signs of activity?” Rys asked.

  Fara refused a cigarette as well, her ears pricking up as Rys spoke.

  “Nothing,” Margrim said. “The Prince-General let me know he was attacking tonight. Caught the enemy troops marching late. Poor bastards won’t stand a chance.”

  The Ashen laughed and made a few crude jokes at Compagnon’s expense. Rys ignored Fara’s questi
oning gaze.

  “Is everybody here?” Rys wanted to be sure of his situation.

  “Yeah, the last few demons trooped in this afternoon.” Margrim left his death stick in his mouth and ticked off his fingers using both hands. “Let’s see: there’s five of us Ashen; three Malakin; four Lilim; three noble demons; and just shy of thirty lesser and greater demons.”

  That sounded like a lot, but Rys knew there were over two hundred soldiers at Harpiscon, including a lot of mages and knights.

  While the Ashen made small talk, Rys checked on his reserve of power in the castle. He still had plenty left, but not enough to wait for Compagnon to make a move.

  “We need to assume Compagnon will attack tonight,” Rys said. “They know we move fast. When they realize we’ve attacked their other group, they’ll march on Anceston.”

  “So, defensive positions?” Margrim asked.

  “No. We’re going to Harpiscon,” Rys ordered. “We’ll take the fight to them.”

  Chapter 30

  They took an hour to reach Harpiscon. Rys felt the clock tick down, as the reserve of power in the castle dwindled.

  Dozens of mercenaries rushed around the outside of the town. They dragged loaded wagons onto the road while the officers woke up everybody trying to get some sleep. Torches blazed from the keep overlooking the town.

  Harpiscon was a small town, but it had a major difference that separated it from most other towns in the region. Defenses.

  A small stone wall ran around the town and up the hill to the keep. That keep was also made of stone and overlooked the valley the town sat in. Most of the town was surrounded by farmland, and several villages dotted the outskirts. Only the road to Anceston was forested.

  Supposedly, Harpiscon was a relic of a past venture by a noble from Gauron. It was a frontier town, intended to be used as a staging post for a push into the mountains. Faded dirt paths ran south and south-east, into the distant foothills.

  The Kinadain no doubt put an end to that a long time ago. Rys wondered if Compagnon had thought to do the same thing, until they struck a deal with the former Kinadain elders. That might explain why the elders had betrayed Maria so easily, for what little it mattered.