Demon Singer Page 5

  Trembling in terror, Lisian bowed low before her adored lord and master and smoked out.

  6 WHERE IS EVERYONE?

  They drove in silence from the foot of Dacapo for an hour before Acheron spoke.

  “Where are we going to begin looking for your Prophet?”

  “I’m going where I always go when I’m stuck. Home.”

  “Oooo, I get to meet mom and dad?” Acheron’s expression became decidedly more mischievous.

  Lyric sighed and lapsed back into silence.

  * * *

  Lyric's hometown came into view as they crested the hill outside the city limits. He stopped his car and turned to Acheron who had settled for the leather pants, halter-top and stiletto boots combo in which she had first appeared. She had added a silver belly chain with an obsidian pendant that matched his own. When Lyric saw it, he seethed in fury, demanding she remove it. In hindsight that was exactly the wrong way to handle it.

  "Can you please cover up?"

  Acheron pouted and her clothes vanished. Lyric turned his head away.

  "Okay, it's safe." Lyric turned back to see her wearing exactly what she was wearing before. "See? Covered up!" She said brightly. "Now let's go see mom and dad."

  As they approached the small village, several things were conspicuous by their absence. No cars on the road, no children playing in front yards, no dogs barking, no activity that marked a healthy small town. Lyric's frown deepened as they pulled onto the main street.

  Stoplights worked, birds were singing. The ball atop the old 76 station was spinning, but there were no signs of life. A few minutes later, they were parking in the driveway of his parent’s house and he was rushing through the front door.

  "Emma? Niq? Where is everyone? What's going on?" The smell of rotting meat assailed his nostrils and forcing himself not to gag he stepped into the dining room, fearing the worst. The sight of the family dog, Whistle, very dead and decomposing on the table, tempered the relief he felt at not finding his parents dead bodies. Turning to Acheron he demanded, "who did this? Why did this happen? Where is everyone?"

  "Couldn't tell you," Acheron shrugged. "Demons don't tend to be real cryptic. If we want you dead, we kill you. Kidnapping one human is a giant pain in the ass; I can't imagine a whole town. You have to feed your hostages, take them to the bathroom, listen to them cry. Killing is easier. The question is not just who would want your entire town, but how did they do it? There’s no evidence of a struggle outside, is there anything amiss in here other than that thing?” She gestured to Whistle, “man I hate dogs.”

  Lyric methodically made his way through the house, then the rest of the neighborhood. Acheron followed for a bit then started playing tic-tac-toe with herself in the empty street, burning her designs into the asphalt with her fingertip. Eventually Lyric rejoined her.

  “There’s absolutely no one here, there are no broken locks, there’s more than one table set for a meal, and all of the animals are dead. Not just dead though, mutilated. What is going on?”

  Acheron rose to her feet and dusted herself off.

  “I’ve been thinking about that while you’ve been on your thorough and pointless search. My guess is it’s not whoever sicced the hellhounds on us while you were playing on your mighty mountain. Whoever did that was trying to kill you outright. Odds are your town is still alive. If it were a killing mission, they would have left the bodies here, not whisked them neatly away. Someone with a tremendous amount of mojo seems to be demanding your attention, Who is it and why? Not likely Hellspawn, as I said, too much work. Nor is anyone from hell going to contract you out. You are a nuke in a world of peashooters, they absolutely do not want you advertised to the supernatural community. The Soul Singers Guild is not going to tell anyone. You’re an embarrassment, and besides, they keep secrets better than dead men. Is there anything different in your life other than my arrival?” Lyric shook his head. “So the question is who wants your attention, doesn’t seem to have your best interests at heart and probably knows about yours truly?"

  “The only people who knew about you were my parents, Niq and Emma; I called them the day I cast. Neither one of them would spread the word about me. Emma’s a princess though; maybe it has nothing to do with me.”

  “A princess? You’re royalty?”

  Lyric flushed.

  “I’m not royalty, I’m a bastard. My mother is the daughter of one of the King’s of Markhato, David Westfall. She and I are an embarrassment to him as well. Westfall is married to Starshine’s Lullaby, the daughter of the Native Canadian King, River Hammer. Emma met Niq when visiting her grandfather. She was due back at court the following week; instead she ran away with a penniless composer and conceived me out of wedlock.”

  “Well now, that puts a different spin on things. It’s very possible this is about your mother and taking the whole town is intended to keep her in line. So, good news, not our problem.” Acheron said brightly.

  “These are my parents; it’s very much my problem. If it’s because of my mother it probably has to do with the war.”

  Acheron shrugged.

  “Sorry, Lover, I don’t keep up with human politics. What war?”

  “It isn’t human politics. There is a second sight war brewing, some crazy woman named Melody is trying to whip up a revolt among the supernaturals against the Four Kings. It’s been all over the Guild because the Masters are considering whether we should be involved. She says it’s time humanity knew of the supernatural beings that live among them. She wants to bring down the second Veil so all supernaturals are revealed. She’s been drafting malcontents for the last few years, mostly the ones who have negligible or no powers, who think their lives will improve if they’re recognized as being special and different from humans.”

  “How is she planning to bring down the veil?” Acheron seemed almost impressed by the audacity of such a task.

  “I have no idea.”

  "Why don't the Kings kill her?"

  "I'm not a King so I don't really know, but I have an idea..." Acheron waited expectantly, crooking an eyebrow when he shouted in her face. "They aren’t demons! Killing isn't the first solution that comes to mind when problems arise!!"

  "You misunderstand," she said earnestly. "Killing isn't the first solution, just the easiest and fastest. We also enjoy torture, maiming and my personal favorite, corruption!"

  Lyric shook his head in disgust.

  "Regardless of the rumors or whether they’re true, I intend to find my parents. Demons can track important possessions to find a person, right? I remember being stalked by a big, ugly bastard a couple years ago that got a hold of a knife of mine."

  "What's the item?"

  Lyric produced a small white stone, polished smooth, small enough to fit in your palm.

  "Who does it belong too?"

  "Emma"

  "What's her full name?"

  Lyric eyed her warily.

  "Seriously, Lover, I need her full name to find her."

  "Emerald Gem of Markhato."

  Acheron closed her eyes and concentrated for a moment. She frowned suddenly and opened her eyes; those beautiful eyes with thick dark lashes...Lyric shook his head. Stop it! She's a monster, a disgusting fiend from hell. He looked back at her to see her smiling slyly.

  "Watcha thinkin', Lover?"

  "I'm thinking I'd like to know where my mother is, stop calling me Lover."

  "Mmm hmm, any time you want to get off your high horse and roll in the mud with me say the word."

  "You're a whore, and I have no interest in picking up some Hell born STD. Where is she?" Lyric ground out through clenched teeth.

  Acheron's expression was puzzled.

  "She's here in the town. Right over there." She pointed at Lyric's childhood home. Lyric borrowed her expression of puzzlement as he tried to work out what was going on.

  "I've been through every inch of this town, there's no one here."

  Acheron shrugged.

  "That's wh
ere she is."

  "Try this," Lyric said handing her a green composition stylus, "it belongs to Unique Harmony of the Space Between."

  Acheron arched an eyebrow.

  "What an interesting name."

  Lyric shrugged and gestured for her to get on with it. Closing her eyes, she opened them almost immediately. "Same place."

  Lyric's brow furrowed in thought.

  "Try this," he handed her a silver hair comb set with rubies from his sister's bureau. "This belongs to Ruby Rain of the Composer."

  Acheron closed her eyes longer this time; then turned West. Opening her eyes, she said "Two days by car in that direction."

  Lyric nodded, "That sounds right," he headed toward his home. He disappeared through the door while Acheron waited outside. "Acheron come here!" The demoness appeared next to him as though she had been a step away. Lyric was startled in spite of himself. "You have the sight, right?"

  "Yes, Lover, I have the sight, what am I looking for?"

  "Something is distorting the sound in this room, in fact, now that I'm listening for it, the entire house is distorted."

  Acheron looked around and shook her head. "Everything seems normal. There are a few enchanted items here and there, but nothing seems off."

  Lyric as a soul singer was not allowed to have enchanted items, so he dismissed them from his mind.

  "Can you zero in on the precise location of Emma from the white stone?"

  "She's over there," Acheron gestured at the table where Whistle still lay. "On the chair on the far side of the table."

  Lyric strode over and examined the area, above, beneath, around the chair.

  "She isn't here," he said perplexed

  "Don't argue with Demon Sense, she's there."

  "And Niq?"

  Acheron closed her eyes with a sigh. Her brow pinched in apparent confusion as She lifted her arm. She began to point, then stopped and turned around on the spot. Finally, she pointed at the door to Niq's study.

  "What was that all about?" Lyric asked.

  "Something seems off. It like he's there, but not there. Like a reflection rather than the real thing."

  Lyric entered his father's room and searched carefully for him in all the places he had already looked, but to no avail.

  Walking back out the front door he stopped on the street and cocked his head, listening intently.

  "The distortion is out here as well," he said thoughtfully. "What is it and is it connected to the disappearances?"

  "I have no idea," Acheron said impatiently, "but frankly I'm bored with this game. No one's here, and as far as we can tell, no one is dead. We still have a mysterious someone who sent a huge pack of hellhounds to actually kill you. You have a year to sever a tie that as far as we know will kill us both. Don't you think you should prioritize a bit?"

  "I'm going to try something," Lyric said, ignoring Acheron. "I will need to make use of our tie; do I have your permission?"

  Acheron flushed.

  "You know you don't have to ask my permission, just do it."

  Lyric shrugged and began a sweet melody that wound out and caressed Acheron's skin. Clenching up she withstood it as long as possible, before crying out. Lyric stopped and looked at her in surprise.

  "What's wrong?"

  "It hurts."

  "But it's a song of peace, how can it hurt?"

  "I'm a demoness dumbass! It hurts!"

  "Okay, okay I’m sorry, let's try this, are you ready?"

  "Don't apologize, just do it!" the Demoness shouted.

  Lyric began the same melody but dropped to a minor scale, turning it into a song of lament. As the sound approached Acheron, it flowed over and around her like it a burial shroud. The magic took hold and she noticed a shimmer in the air. Instinctively she sent a surge of power along the tie and amped up Lyric's song. He began singing ancient words she had not heard since before the fall, which shocked her like a lightning strike. She ground her teeth and withstood the burning sensation, which was accompanied by an almost narcotic quality. She felt like she was about to split apart, so backed off the juice a bit, so she could concentrate harder on seeing through the shimmer.

  "Holy shit," she said softly. Exploring the sensation of their tie, she realized she could send a thought along it to Lyric. "Look over by the house to your right, in front of the bushes."

  Lyric continued singing as he did what she said and started at what he saw. A perfect crystal statue of his old neighbor stood in the yard, stooped over to pick something up off the ground. Eyes darting about he saw several people in their yards and on the streets, all perfect crystalline representations of friends and neighbors. "What the hell is going on?" he thought at her

  "No idea, but I bet your parents are in their house. Stop singing, it hurts; let's see if they go away."

  Lyric stopped his song and immediately the statues vanished. He turned and dashed into the house, beckoning Acheron to follow. Once inside he began his song again, immediately the shimmer showed up, Acheron sent power down the tie and as soon as the words started, she winced and backed off a little. There at the table, sat Lyric's mother, a worried expression on her face. Lyric kept singing and made his way to his father's study. His father was still absent. He looked everywhere and found nothing.

  Going back to the dining room, he changed his song to a restoration piece. Nothing happened. He whipped through his repertoire, trying everything he could think of. No joy. Confused, frustrated, angry he made his way outside and sat down on the steps of his family home.

  Like a towering black wave, a deluge of emotions he had held carefully in check overwhelmed him. Once he allowed himself to contemplate the mix of frustration, rage, fear and helplessness, there was no stopping the flood that burst out if him as a wild lament that shattered the air, literally. Lightning began striking the street, making craters in the asphalt. The neighbor's house across the street compressed as though flattened by a huge fist. Suddenly he was flying through the air and landed flat on his back, Acheron slamming the weight of her body down on his stomach as he hit the ground. His breath left him, stopping the song and the lightning storm. He looked up at Acheron in surprise. She held him pinned, her hands like steel around his wrists.

  He gasped; attempting to speak and she slid back and descended, covering his mouth with hers. Dazed, he did not resist and for the first time in his life experienced a real kiss. Only this one was from a demon with millennia of experience. Not really a fair first kiss. The knot in his back twisted something awful and another, more obvious reaction made itself known against her leather-clad derriere. Finally, she broke the kiss and sat back looking him carefully in the eye.

  "As much as I'd love to take advantage of this situation you need to listen to me as hard as you can. Do I have your complete attention? Don't speak, just nod." Lyric nodded. "Good, c'mon." Standing up she grabbed his hand and easily pulled him to his feet. Keeping a hold of him, she led him back to the porch and sat him down on the step, sitting next to him.

  "There are some things you should know from your training, and some that no soul singer knows, but due to our unique situation you need to learn. A soul singer's song is a powerful thing by itself. Alone, it can hurt a demon and even cast us back to hell. You already know you have some control over your surroundings from your schooling, as you proved with the Hellhounds." She looked at him intently to make sure he was still paying attention. "When tied to a Verger, your Soul Song becomes stronger, amplified by the Verger's powers. Verger's pick up a lot of power from living on the Verge of Hell. Natural inclinations during life don't disappear with death. Vergers are as unique as people or demons. soul singers vary in strength and ability not just because of their own strengths and weaknesses but also because of those of their Verger. A Verger tie is to death because of the nature of souls and how they connect. The reason you're called soul singers is not just because Vergers are souls of the deceased who are held on the Verge for whatever reason, but also because the Song you s
ing to cast into the Verge is the visible, audible cry of your soul. I have killed several of your kind," she paused as Lyric bristled beside her. "Don't get worked up, just listen, you need to learn this. Demons are spirits; we don't have corporeal bodies unless we take them or make them. We can exist in the air, but it is difficult and painful. Imagine walking around in fire, that's what it feels like. Therefore, we either make vessels to inhabit, or steal them. Some of us like Trytohn, a few others and me can take any form we desire. My name is Acheron. I am not from the river in Hell; I am the river in hell. Every Fallen One has a source of power that is specific. Some are in authority in places in Hell and draw power from their places. Some are responsible for various cults or religions on the earth and draw power from their worshipers. Mine is the entirety of Hell itself, because my very nature reaches through the entirety of Hell. Trytohn is the strongest of us because as the leader of the fall, we are all bound to him and he draws his power from us collectively. No matter how powerful a hellion is, we simply make Trytohn stronger. By our nature and age, demons are immensely strong, far beyond a Verger. A Verger and soul singer tied together have enough juice to present a serious threat to any denizen of the infernal plain, including Trytohn himself.”

  “What’s the Verge like?”

  “Don’t interrupt. Now understand the importance of what I am telling you. You are the most powerful singer I have ever encountered, and you're tied to me, a demoness whose power is unequaled by all but a few. When you share this tie with another soul you give up part of yourself to the one you're tied to, and they give up part of their soul to you. This is likely to have drastic consequences for the both of us and you almost saw one just now. That ridiculous self-control the Guild makes you beat into yourself isn't for fun. You need to be in control of your Song at all times, if you lose control there are many possible consequences, all bad. One of which is putting control in your Verger's hands. The balance of power is shifted and you will become my slave."

  Lyric stared at her in horror and confusion.