Red Moon Demon (Demon Lord)

by Blayde, Morgan

  Hazel laughed. “If I get to pick the piece... You’ve filled out nicely since running away, little snowflake.”

  Izumi raised a fist in the air. A javelin of ice formed in her hand. She thrust it down with a relaxed, smooth throw so it pierced Blue’s collarbone and heart. He clutched the protruding ice shaft as his legs collapsed under him. Thu-thudda. The troll’s knees indented the river ice without breaking through. He fell backwards onto bent legs with a whump and lay spread eagle on the ice. His blue eyes went flat and dull, fading to silver. His big chest lost air and no longer filled with breath. As if conquered by cold, layers of ice seeped out of his skin, making an ice sculpture of him.

  “Shouldn’t have pissed me off,” Izumi said.

  “Sonuffabitch!” Hazel looked at his fallen comrade. Tears welled in his eyes. The drops fell, turning into beads of ice that rattled and bounced on the ice. He tore his gaze away, facing Izumi.

  Without regret or remorse, she stared down from above, now wearing armor made of ice over her clothes, a blue-ice sword in her hands. This reminded me that no matter how warm and soft I’d her heart, it had a frozen core, like all the winter fey.

  Hazel set his hammer on the river, kneeling toward her. His head bent in submission, his huge fist pressed in a sort of salute over his heart. “Your pardon, Princess. May I have the honor of escorting you to your mother’s throne?”

  Princess? I glowered at Izumi. If she was fey royalty, than the Japanese snow demon persona had been her cover, down to the Japanese features of her face. I wondered what her true appearance was like without her magical glamour.

  I muttered, “Keeping secrets much?”

  She shrugged at my accusing stare, and nodded to the surviving troll. “I will await you on the other side of the bridge.” Her sword tip bit into the broken edge of the bridge.

  In moments, the shattered ice grew into its previous shape, letting her walk across.

  I, of course, climbed up the bank the hard way, refusing to let the troll help by tossing me up like a bag of ice. We rejoined Izumi, escorting her past buildings carved from ice, with thinner sheets of it serving as windows, letting light through. To those inside, we were probably smeary shadows.

  We hit a market area where heavy pillars supported an overhanging roof. Dividers of ice separated displays. Tables were littered with clothes, arts and crafts, preserves, metal work, ceramics, wood carvings, and local produce—probably magic-assisted—grown out of season. There were some fur cloaks, boots, and jeweled daggers that I wouldn’t have minded getting a closer look at, but I was expecting the local guards to intercept us soon and channel us to the local palace.

  It was a little odd seeing all this going on so late in the day, but this was Faire after all. The fey always marched to a different drum. It’s what made them so unpredictable. So dangerous.

  “The merchants privileged to supply the Court,” Izumi said, “Have private shops that are quite better than this. I wouldn’t be surprised if a lot of this was glamoured to look more appealing and hide defects.”

  “Something to keep in mind,” I said.

  I drew a lot of attention but Izumi even more so. Fey of all kinds stepped out of the way, heads bowing after an initial flash of startlement. The smell in the air wasn’t fear. Many of the fey smiled, happy to see her.

  “You’re important to them,” I said.

  Izumi’s face tightened, flushing a delicate pale rose. Her eyes shied from the crowd.

  “Feeling shame?” I said.

  “It’s that easy to read my emotion?” she said.

  “I know you,” I said.

  She looked at me and smiled. “Yes, you do. But you’ve barely touched my secrets. You might want to remember that.”

  Like a misplaced Buddhist monk—a bald, fey in bright orange robes with a gold jacket—manned a table piled with fruit. He used a hand-cranked device to churn out crushed ice that went into cups hollowed out of fist-sized hunks of ice. There were also pitchers with various flavors of fruit juice. The guy was selling the local equivalent of smoothies. The man called out to us, “Strangers, come and refresh yourself. First drink is on the house.”

  I thought of how drug dealers work. “Of course the first taste is free. It will probably be magically irresistible. I’ll wind up emptying my wallet and selling myself into servitude to end the cravings. Thanks…”

  Izumi shot me a warning glance.

  The vendor’s eyes flared with triumph. I knew why. You weren’t supposed to say thank you to them, ever. It implied that you were indebted to them, giving them power over you.

  I finished my sentence “…that’s what I might have said if you were actually doing me a favor.”

  The merchant widened his eyes in mock outrage, turning blustery, “Why I never…! Of all the lunatic accusations…! I am offended, I tell you, offended and insulted … and…!”

  I nodded wisely. “And speaking in sentence fragments. You haven’t denied what I said.”

  He scowled, crossed his arms over his chest, and turned his back, waiting for us to go away so he could try his line on the next passerby.

  But the area was suddenly full of soldiers in ice-blue uniforms. They bristled with swords, pikes, and axes as they surrounded us. Their Captain ignored us for the moment,

  Stalking up to the merchant who’d turned to take in the disturbance. The Captain of the guard snatched the man by the hair and forced his own beverages down his throat. The merchant sputtered and gagged, spilling much of the fruity slush down his front. A second cup and a third followed.

  As the captain of the guard approached Izumi and me, the merchant continued swilling his drinks, victim of his own magic.

  I had to smile.

  SEVENTEEN

  “Is it my fault if they just left it

  lying around, under heavy guard?”

  —Caine Deathwalker

  The guards stood in a relaxed manner, haughty, proud…

  Confident? They had reason to be, all of them skilled warriors who smelled strongly of fey magic, a scent not unlike lightning above a pine forest. Stimulating. Their Captain occupied an entirely new level. His feral magic was rich and potent as a moonlit jungle. His eyes were pale gray coins with vertical pupils that suggested he might be a shape-shifter. There was a spring in his step, a liquid flow to his muscles, no wasted motion.

  Dangerous.

  His gaze flicked my way, absorbed me, and passing on to Izumi. His fist went over his heart as he gave her a shallow bow. This indicated he was high in the aristocracy. His words emerged glacier cold, “Nieve, it is good to see you again.” Something in his voice convinced me not to believe him. In addition to the tone, he’d not used any honorifics. If he wanted to see her, it wasn’t for a good reason. And what was this Nieve stuff, a nick name?

  She nodded once. “Frall, my mother’s faithful hound. Are you still doing her killing for her?”

  Hmmm. Izumi’s tipping me off that he’s as much assassin as soldier. Good to know.

  I moved closer to Nieve and offered the captain a dead black stare.

  This was the look I usually wore just before blowing someone’s brains out.

  He stared back like I was dung clinging to the heel of his boot. “And what are you.”

  I smiled, my voice a loud whisper, “Your death, if you push me. Do your job and lead us to Winter Court.”

  “Sure.” He matched my smile. “I look forward to seeing your arrogance crumble before our queen.” He turned to the ice troll, his voice sharp with command, “Don’t you have a bridge to hide under?”

  The troll grinned in a friendly fashion—the way a shark might before taking a bite—and turning, lumbered off, as the guards quickly cleared out of his path.

  “This way.” The captain stomped off. His men pressed in, urging us to follow. We did.

  Soon, the city lay behind us and we were climbing up a hill past terraces where ice sculptures glinted in ranks like giant chess pieces. White wolves were
pawns. Wishful thinking I decided. There were knights, warriors on horses, swords lifted in challenge. The rooks weren’t castles, but black ice crows, fanning wings, eyes rubies. Bishops were druids in dark cloaks with roughhewn staffs in bony hands, but there was something vaguely reptilian about the faces.

  Other terraces contained menageries of animals, many twisted and strange. A sly-eyed pooka, a river-dwelling pony, stood next to a proud unicorn. A griffin and hippogriff faced each other in poses of combat. A python with six legs—carved from soft-green ice—reared up to snatch fruit from an apple tree. The carved detail surpassed anything I’d ever seen, making me wonder if these thing had once been real, before falling afoul of Winter Court magic.

  The road we were on passed a high ice-brick wall. The gate itself was a frozen mass of thorns and white roses, all encased in ice so its beauty might last forever. Beyond, I saw a sprawling castle with spear-point turrets rising like diamond shafts against the charcoal clouds. The towers were lit green and blue by will-o-the-wisp swarming the structure. Like a painting, so perfect I didn’t want to look away.

  We pushed on toward the castle’s main entrance. Two ice doors, each fifty feet tall and twenty feet wide, turned on central pivots, balanced on the threshold. Additional guards waited, coming to attention, snapping swords in salute to Nieve. Their ice-blue armor shimmered as their protective magic reacted to my aura.

  The palace doors rotated open with a soft grating sound. We went in, onto an ice floor chiseled to resemble fancy tiles. They bore a pattern of berries and holly. More of the Will-o-the–wisps danced inside, fracturing their light against seven-tier chandeliers. On the lower walls, silver rimmed mirrors threw our images back at us. Blue-velvet cushions on thin limbed benches and chairs allowed unimportant guests to cool their heels until someone in power wanted to see them. Ivory tables were graced with weapon racks where jeweled knives and swords rested, as well as occasional spears and morning-stars. All were made of silver or bronze. No iron allowed. That was understandable; iron had a tendency to disrupt fey magic.

  “You will need to leave your weapons here,” Frall said.

  “Not in your lifetime,” I muttered.

  The surrounding guards edged closer, threatening without brandishing their weapons.

  The runes tattooed on my neck burned like I was being branded as I let some of my magic seep out. The fey respect power, but not much else; I’d have problems if they were to see me as prey. What they hold in contempt, they slowly torture and kill. As it was, every guard looked ready to pounce, taking by force what I wouldn’t give.

  “Try it and I’ll eat you alive.” I used my Dragons Voice spell so my words echoed in their heads, their hearts, and throughout the great hall, shaking the chandeliers so that ice crystals fell and shattered on the tiles.

  The guards jerked back.

  Frall didn’t move, but his eyes were fixed on me, intent and measuring.

  Izumi yawned, doing her best to simulate boredom. “Caine, this way.”

  I broke off the Dragon’s Voice and followed her across the hall, ice crunching underfoot. As we got further from the outside walls, the translucent blues became deeper, darker.

  Before we got more than halfway across the hall, Izumi stopped, crouching like a beast scenting danger, deciding whether to fight or run. I felt the air around us deepen with cold. My breath emerged as a white banner. Her breath stayed clear as if she was the same temperature inside as out. Her lips were parted, her eyes wide with fear. This made her even more beautiful to me.

  Ahead of us, a broad staircase stretched up to the next floor. The steps were extra high and thirty feet wide, made for the boots of heroes, not common men. The scale of everything was meant to intimidate. Not that I let it.

  Feet thumped loudly on the staircase as massive creatures came into view. Frost Giants, three of them. I’d thought the ice trolls, a related species, were big. These guys made trolls look sickly and anemic. Though only a couple feet taller, they were easily twice as wide, with three times the muscle mass. The giants wore animal pelts held in place by wide leather strips winding around arms, legs, and waists. Hammered bronze wristlets and necklaces adorned them. They wore horned helmets and sported outrageous beards encrusted with ice.

  Two had ice-white eyes—staring eagerly at Izumi. The one in the middle glowered at me for being near her. He had yellow-red eyes, as if they’d been set on fire and the flames suspended in time. I think I’d heard that the frost giant’s royal family had eyes like that.

  I looked at Izumi. “Why are there frost giants in Winter Court?”

  She ignored my question, saying, “Caine, please don’t do anything stupid, I beg of you.”

  I tried on a look of injured innocence, one eyebrow cocked. “I don’t mess with things like that without collecting a lot of money up-front. You want to give me some context here? They’ve been at war with the Winter Court for generations. What the hell’s goin’ on?”

  The giants reached the ground floor and stomped our way. They got bigger the closer they got. I’d thought their skin was white, but close up, detected a faint blue tinting.

  A five-foot vortex of snow flurries condensed in front of Izumi. The frost giants lurched to a sudden stop, attentive and careful. That worried me. A barely legal girl jumped out of the whirling snow which collapsed. A foot shorter than Izumi, the girl’s lavender-blue hair and cobalt eyes shone with the light of industrial strength magic. I wondered how much of what I was seeing was real and how much of her was glamour. You couldn’t take the fey at face value—ever.

  The new-comer radiated excitement, peering into Izumi’s face. “Sweetie, I’m so glad you’re back. I’ve been so worried.”

  Tears glistened in Izumi’s eyes as she melted into the girl’s embrace. Pulling back, she kept hold of Izumi’s hands. They smiled at each other.

  Side doors in the hall exploded open and fresh guards rushed to converge on us. These were hard fey, scarred, mauled by past conflicts, with death in their eyes. Their weapon harnesses were worn and oiled, not the type put on to impress visiting dignitaries. I warmed with the joyous desire to kill them all. Such a challenge! My hands stayed pressed to my thighs, ready to draw the automatic pistols holstered in that part of my gun harness.

  The girl turned the full force of those icy, electric eyes on me, deadening my muscles like a killing frost. “And what have you here?” She smiled; it wasn’t fake. That was really bad. Having the attention of a fey with this much random power wasn’t good.

  I looked into her eyes and smiled. “I am Caine Deathwalker.” I forced my body to move, making it look easy. I seized the girl’s hand, kissing it. “And who would you be?”

  Before I could even make an obscene suggestion involving a feather bed and a trapeze, I had four blades at my neck, coming from behind and both sides. I kept looking into the girl’s eyes. Projecting enough confidence for a legion of demons, I waited for an answer.

  She said, “I am Kellyn, the Heart of Winter, ruler of the Northern Court, Queen of the Ice Fey.”

  “My mom,” Izumi added.

  The queen waved the guards back.

  The blades at my neck withdrew as the guards retreated.

  Kellyn stepped closer to me. Her hand settled against my chest. She studied me. I’d had powerful fey do this before; they had a hard time getting a feel for what I was.

  Kellyn didn’t look away, but spoke to Izumi, “Is this yours, my daughter?”

  The hand on my chest became warmer. She pulled it away and stared into her palm.

  Before Izumi answered, the middle frost giant’s voice thundered in the hall. “Enough of this. I demand my prize now, fey queen.”

  Kellyn turned to face him.

  Izumi looked angry as all hell.

  The queen’s guards didn’t move, but the faces I saw were masks of frozen rage.

  Kellyn’s face aged ten years as she spoke with imperial ice edging her words. All sign of the barely legal vixen fading away. �
��In due time, Aybran, we will discuss the matter.”

  Aybran, the frost realm’s heir apparent? What the hell have I walked into?

  “Izumi,” I caught her eyes, “what’s going on?”

  Izumi looked at the floor as if she were avoiding me, but whispered, “I was named the prize to stop a war; it was decided that we should marry. Not that I was ever asked.”

  “That’s why you were hiding in my territory?”

  Kellyn turned her attention back to me. “You are something that has a territory?”

  “I really nice territory,” I said. “I rule L.A. in the human world.”

  “El-lay?” Kellyn’s face was blank. Apparently, the human city didn’t mean much to her. She gestured to the surrounding guards. “Take them to Nieve’s old room and see to it she doesn’t wonder off again.”

  Izumi grabbed my hand as a heavy escort led us away.

  Aybran didn’t look happy, but was smart enough to swallow his protests.

  I looked at the frost giant prince, and smiled in contempt. “You will die before you ever touch her.”

  I shot Kellyn a glance as well, one that traveled down her hot fey body and back up again. I gave her a little goodbye wave.

  The queen looked surprised, but gave up a little smile of her own.

  We were hustled across the hall, out a side door, and down a passage with blue crystal orbs set halfway in the ice walls every few feet. Ice, ice, and more ice… I was starting to see a theme here. A few minutes later we came to stairs made out of ivory. Izumi still held my hand. I didn’t think it was for my benefit. She smelled of fear, powerless in the face of palace machinations. Despair darkened her eyes, robbing her face of animation.