Blue Moon Rising

by Simon R. Green

  “Down there,” said the Astrologer suddenly, pointing out and to his left. “There’s a kind of clearing, covered over. That’s where we’ll find the Demon Prince.”

  “Are you sure?” asked the King.

  “Oh yes, John,” said the Astrologer. “I’m sure.”

  The dragon looked quickly back to see where the Astrologer was pointing, and then turned and glided down towards the roof of the Darkwood. The huge thorns rose up to meet him. At the last moment the dragon spread his jaws wide, and bright roaring flames spilled out on to the thorns and branches, eating through them like acid. The flames couldn’t seem to take a lasting hold on the dead wood, but they quickly opened up a hole in the canopy large enough for the dragon to fall through, his wings pressed tight against his sides. The moonlight was suddenly gone, and the dragon plummeted into darkness. He stretched his wings wide to slow his fall, and then he slammed into the ground, almost spilling his passengers from his back. For a long moment, nobody moved. All around them there was nothing but the night, still and silent and deadly.

  “Did anyone think to bring a lantern?” whispered Julia.

  The dragon coughed politely, and a brief gush of fire fell from his mouth. It caught hold on one small patch of the lichens and oily mosses that covered the floor, and the clearing was suddenly filled with a leaping, wavering light. Rupert swung down from the dragon’s back, carefully avoiding the fire. It seemed to be burning well and steadily, but showed no sign of spreading. Rupert nodded slowly, satisfied for the moment, and drawing his sword he moved quietly away from the dragon while the others were dismounting.

  The clearing wasn’t very large, no more than forty feet in diameter, with half a dozen pathways leading off. In the exact centre of the clearing stood a single rotting tree stump, roughly fashioned into the shape of a throne. Fresh bloodstains spotted the decaying wood. Rupert glanced up at the break in the canopy overhead, but there was no trace of the Blue Moon or its light, only a darkness that went on for ever. Julia came over to stand beside Rupert, her sword in her hand. They shared a quick smile, and then Julia went back to searching the surrounding darkness for signs of movement. The King and the Astrologer stood together, beside the rotting throne.

  “Is that fire wise?” asked the King quietly. “Surely the light will tell the demons we’re here?”

  The Astrologer smiled coldly. “They’ll know we’re here soon enough, John.”

  “This place is disgusting,” said Julia, stepping gingerly over a pile of blood-spattered bones, some still with shreds of meat clinging to them. The mossy floor squelched blood as she trod on it.

  “All right, sir Astrologer,” said Rupert finally. “You led us here. Where’s the Demon Prince?”

  “You want him?” said the Astrologer. “Then I’ll call him. Master! They’re here! I’ve brought them to you!”

  Rupert and Julia stared at him in horror, and then leaped forward, sword in hand, but before they could reach the Astrologer a massive weight slammed them to the ground and pinned them there. Rupert struggled fiercely against the unseen force holding him, but it was all he could do to lift his face out of the blood-soaked moss on the floor. His sword was gone from his hand, and he couldn’t even turn his head to see where it had fallen. He could just make out the King lying helpless on the ground near by, while beyond him the dragon lay heaving and writhing at the edge of the clearing, unable to rise. The Astrologer laughed quietly. Inch by inch, Rupert raised his head to look at him. Thomas Grey was lounging at his ease on the rotting throne, and in his hands was a glowing sword with a dull black jewel set in its crosspiece.

  “What’s happening?” groaned Julia. “Why can’t I move?”

  “It’s his sword,” said the King painfully. “It’s the Curtana. He must have had it all along.”

  “Of course,” said the Astrologer. “I had to be sure you were in a fit state to greet my master.”

  “Welcome,” said a soft, sibilant voice from out of the shadows. “Welcome, my dear friends. I’ve been waiting for you.”

  Rupert fought to keep his head up as he watched a tall spindly figure slowly form itself out of the darkness at the edge of the clearing. It gradually took on depth and weight and reality, like a nightmare creating itself in flesh and bone. The Demon Prince stood fully eight feet tall, his body emaciated to the point of starvation. His lambent dead-white skin was wrapped in black rags and tatters, and two crimson eyes burned unblinkingly from under the wide brim of his large, battered hat. What little could be seen of the Demon Prince’s face gave the impression of being blurred and unfinished. He smiled slowly at his enemies lying helpless on the clearing floor, his wide slash of a mouth full of pointed teeth, and then he moved forward with the sudden darting grace of a spider, and snatched Rockbreaker from its scabbard on the King’s back. The sword seemed almost to shudder in the long, skeletal hand.

  “An interesting toy,” said the Demon Prince. “There was a time when it might even have been of some use against me.”

  He broke the sword across his knee in one swift movement, and threw the pieces aside. Far away, Rupert thought he heard something scream in agony, and then fall silent. The Demon Prince turned to the Astrologer, and reached out an imperious hand. Thomas Grey leaped immediately to his feet and hurried over to present his master with the Curtana. The Dark Prince hefted the sword in his hand, and the glowing steel blade burst into searing flames. Within the space of a few seconds, nothing remained of the Sword of Compulsion but a pool of molten metal steaming on the ground, with a few dull jewels floating in it. Rupert quickly tested the compulsion that held him. It seemed a little weaker, but its hold still lingered on under the influence of the Wild Magic.

  “You have done well, my slave,” said the Demon Prince to the bowing Astrologer. “All my enemies are now gathered in one place, and the only remaining swords that might have harmed me are now destroyed.”

  He broke off suddenly, and darted over to where Julia was reaching out her hand to retrieve the sword she’d dropped. She’d just wrapped her fingers round the swordhilt when the Demon Prince brought his heel down hard. There was a sound of bones breaking. The Demon Prince ground Julia’s crushed fingers under his heel, but she wouldn’t cry out. He chuckled quietly, enjoying the agony in her face, and then he lifted his foot away and turned back to the Astrologer. Even in the dim light, Rupert could see that Julia’s hand was now nothing more than a mess of blood and splintered bones. She tried to lift her sword anyway, and it fell from her crippled hand. The Demon Prince didn’t even look round. He seated himself elegantly on his throne of decaying wood, with the Astrologer at his right hand, and looked coldly upon his fallen enemies.

  “Well?” said the Demon Prince, his quiet voice subtly grating on the ear. “Have you nothing to say to me? After all, you’ve waited so long to meet me … what about you, dragon? We’re two of a kind, you and I. We can still remember when the world was young, and we were powers on the earth. Things have changed since then, since man came into the world. You’ve grown old, dragon, old and weak. Magic was going out of the world, and you were going with it. But now the Blue Moon is full, and the Wild Magic has returned. Forget the humans. Serve me and watch dragonkind grow strong again.”

  The dragon slowly lifted his great head, fighting grimly against the geas that held him prisoner.

  “Answer me,” said the Demon Prince.

  “Rot in hell,” said the dragon. “Julia and Rupert are my friends, and I’ll not betray them to a Prince of decaying trees.”

  Fire roared from his mouth, only to fall harmlessly to the ground, unable to reach the Demon Prince. The flames sputtered on the oily moss, and went out.

  “Foolish animal,” said the Demon Prince. “Go to sleep.”

  The dragon’s eyes closed, and his head fell heavily to the ground. The Demon Prince moved over to stand before him, and kicked him in the face. Golden blood trickled down the dragon’s muzzle. The Demon Prince kicked him again.

  R
upert slowly pulled one leg up under him, fighting the geas every inch of the way. He could see his sword, lying on the ground between him and the King, but it was well out of reach. One good jump would be enough to get him to it, but as yet the compulsion was still too strong. Rupert slowly brought his other leg into position, and waited with a cold and patient fury for the geas to die away.

  “You planned this all along, Thomas,” said King John dully. The light had gone out of his eyes, and his face was an empty mask, wiped clean by pain and shock. “You poisoned your fellow sorcerers.”

  The Astrologer chuckled happily.

  “Why?” groaned the King. “Why turn against the Forest? Against me?”

  “Answer him, slave,” said the Demon Prince. “His despair amuses me.”

  “You, John,” said Thomas Grey, smiling crookedly. “You and your damned throne. Thirty years and more I spent propping you up, making your decisions for you, but what did I ever get out of it? All those years living in your shadow, doing your scutwork, while you had all the wealth and the power. I could have been somebody, John! I could have been somebody in my own right, maybe even a Sorcerer Supreme! But I gave that up to go with you, because you needed me. I would have made a far better King than you. Lots of people said so, but no, I stayed loyal. You were my friend. And then, years later, I finally realised I had no more power or station or wealth of my own than the day I first followed you to Court to be your Astrologer!”

  John stared at him, tears rolling unheeded down his sunken cheeks. “Thomas … we’ve been friends since we were children together …”

  “Children grow up, John.”

  “Do you really hate me so much?”

  “More than you can imagine, John. I’ve looked forward to this moment for years. A great many years.”

  “You …” said John slowly. “You were the one who first suggested we call the Demon Prince!”

  “Of course,” said the Astrologer calmly. “With his power, I could have made myself King.”

  He broke off as the Demon Prince laid a hand on his shoulder, and squeezed gently. Blood ran down the Astrologer’s arm as the long claws sank deep into his flesh, but he didn’t flinch or cry out.

  “Such a foolish mortal, to think of controlling me,” murmured the Demon Prince. “You were mine, body and soul, from the moment you decided to summon me out of the darkness, From that moment on, you became my agent, my slave, my—”

  “Traitor,” whispered the King.

  “I have always been well served by traitors,” said the Demon Prince.

  John bowed his head and looked away. In the space of a single day he had lost his Kingdom, his Castle, and his oldest friend. It didn’t seem possible that a man could hurt so much and still go on living.

  Rupert cautiously raised himself up on his elbows. The geas was almost gone, but the sword was too far away. The Demon Prince would stop him before he could get anywhere near it. The King, on the other hand, was almost on top of the sword … Rupert frowned. In order to stand any chance at all, the King was going to need a diversion, to distract the Demon Prince and the Astrologer … Rupert smiled sourly as the answer came to him. He might not be able to reach the sword, but he could certainly reach the Demon Prince. Damn, thought Rupert, this is going to hurt. He quickly caught his father’s eye, and jerked his head slightly at the sword lying between them. Now, if the Demon Prince would just move a few steps closer … The Astrologer laughed suddenly, and the King slowly turned his head to look at him.

  “Well, John,” grinned the Astrologer, “nothing more to say to me? No last-minute appeals to my better nature, or the friendship we once shared?”

  John just looked at him.

  “I’m going to be King,” said Thomas Grey simply, a world of satisfaction in his voice. “At long last, I’m going to be King. My master promised me your throne, for my part in this. Don’t worry, John; I’ll put the Kingdom back together, and run it as it should be run. And with the demons to back me up, there’s not a Baron in the Land will dare stand against me.”

  “You’re crazy,” said Julia harshly. “King? King of what? There’s nothing but the Darkwood now.”

  “Things won’t always be like this,” said the Astrologer calmly. “I shall rule the Forest Land. This was promised to me.”

  “Such a petty ambition,” said the Demon Prince. “I offered you all the Kingdoms of the world.”

  “The Forest Land is all I want,” said Thomas Grey. “It’s all I’ve ever wanted. And now I shall be King, at last.”

  “I think not,” said the Dark Prince.

  The Astrologer turned to stare at the inhuman creature lounging carelessly on its decaying throne.

  “I have no use for Kings,” said the Demon Prince. “Only slaves. Come here, slave.”

  Thomas Grey shook his head slowly. “I’m to be King. King of the Forest Land. You promised me!”

  The Demon Prince smiled, showing his teeth. “I lied.”

  He rose to his feet in one sudden movement, and started towards the Astrologer. Thomas Grey backed away, and then turned and ran. He barely made half a dozen steps before the night closed around him like a living cloak. Grey fell struggling to the ground, wrapped in darkness, and screamed horribly as within his body he felt his bones and muscles moving, changing, twisting …

  The screams finally died away, and King John watched horrified as the thing that had once been his friend rose slowly to its feet as a demon. A low-browed head squatted on broad, muscular shoulders, and its overlong arms fell down past its knees. Thick oily hair showed clearly through great rents in the sorcerer’s torn robes. A simple, crafty intelligence showed in the glowing blood-red eyes, but the was no trace of recognition in them when the demon glanced at the King before scuttling away to crouch fawningly at the Demon Prince’s side.

  “Well?” said the Demon Prince to the King. “How do you like your friend now?

  Rupert lunged forward and slammed into the Demon Prince. The creature staggered backwards and almost fell, but caught his balance at the last moment. Rupert caught the Demon Prince in a bear hug, and hung on grimly, his head pressed against the creature’s bony chest.

  “Father!” he yelled desperately. “Get the sword! Get the bloody sword!”

  The Demon Prince’s head snapped forward, the long spindly neck stretching impossibly. Rupert had only a brief glimpse of vicious teeth reaching for his throat before he released his hold and threw himself backwards. The jaws snapped together just short of his face, and then a hard bony knee shot up to slam into his side. Rupert groaned as he felt newly healed ribs break, and then the ground rose up to hit him. He rolled slowly on to his face and pushed himself up on to one elbow, just in time to see Julia try again to reach her sword. The demon Astrologer drove a fist into her gut, and she collapsed again, fighting for breath. The demon giggled. The Demon Prince moved slowly forward, chuckling softly. Rupert braced himself, and glanced quickly at his father. The King hadn’t moved at all, and the sword still lay where Rupert had dropped it.

  “Father!”

  The Demon Prince stopped before the King, and smiled down at him. “I don’t think he hears you, boy. He’s broken now, just another of my slaves. Aren’t you, John?” He reached down and, taking the King by the throat, lifted him easily off the ground. The Demon Prince held him out at arm’s length and shook him playfully, grinning broadly as he watched the King’s feet kicking a yard and more above the ground.

  “Aren’t you, John?”

  The King tore feebly at the Demon Prince’s hand, air rattling in his throat.

  “You shall be the lowliest of all my slaves, little coward,” said the Demon Prince softly. He drew the King’s face close to his own, and laughed mockingly. King John spat in his face. The Demon Prince howled with rage, and his hand closed tight about the King’s throat. His other hand ripped through the King’s chain-mail and sank its claws deep into the King’s chest, searching for his heart.

  Rupert staggered to h
is feet and started towards them, and the demon Astrologer came to meet him. Julia lunged forward, snatched up Rupert’s sword from the clearing floor, and threw it to him. Rupert snatched the sword out of mid-air, and turned quickly back to face the demon. It snarled once, and backed slowly away from him. The Demon Prince threw the King aside, and stalked towards Rupert, grinning broadly. Rupert stood his ground, hefting his sword in his hand. He could see Julia and his father, both struggling to get to their feet, their blood dripping on to the filthy moss. Even the dragon was stirring uneasily in his sleep. Rupert swallowed dryly. He knew cold steel wasn’t going to be enough to stop the Dark Prince, but he had to try. His friends needed him. He lifted his sword above his head for one last desperate attack, and then all his rage and hope and need surged up into the sword and out, out into the long night and beyond, and the Demon Prince screamed despairingly as with the roaring of a mighty falls, the Rainbow slammed down into the Darkwood clearing.

  Brilliant colours threw back the darkness, thundering endlessly against the long night. Rupert turned his face up into the cascading light, and laughed aloud as strength flooded back into him. Vivid shades and colours burned through the night, driving back the Darkwood. Rupert looked around him for the Demon Prince. He could just make out a tall spindly shadow struggling weakly among the colours, like an insect trapped in hardening amber. And then, even as he watched, the shadow melted away into nothing. The Rainbow blazed bright and glorious against the night, and then was gone.

  Rupert slowly lowered his sword, and looked up into the night sky. For a moment he thought nothing had changed, and then, one by one, the stars came out, and the full moon overhead shone silver bright. The brooding oppression of the Darkwood was gone, as though it had never been, and already the first faint red gleam of dawn was spilling out on to the darkness. The long night was finally over.