(eng) Morgan Blayde - Demon Lord 09 by Green Agate Pretender

Author:Green Agate Pretender [Pretender, Green Agate]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

TWENTY

“One step forward, one back, and

a giant leap onto an enemy throat.

I live my life one kill at a time.”

—Caine Deathwalker

Darkness gave way to a clear night. Lying on my back, I looked up at the dusty blue glass chunks of a broken moon. The stars burned an electric blue. I smelled smoke. Sitting up, I saw the manor, much of it gone, the remnants smoldering. The book-end towers leaned, crumbling. The gray mists were gone. There was a purity, a peace in the air that had nothing to do with Nightmare.

Nightmare’s broken, consumed.

I got my feet under me, picked up my backpack, and the Raider AR pistol which had fallen by my side. I still wore my sheathed titanium katana. It swung on its straps as I stood. I touched my ear. The Bluetooth was gone, its job done, getting me back to my body. I’d have to use that image again—the next time I got stupid enough to risk a walkabout across the unseen universe.

Rising in front of me, out of the ground, called by my strength or maybe the mega-tie in my backpack, a hunk of black crystal greeted me with pulses from its spectral green core. It was the tie of Nightmare, up for grabs. Literally. I grabbed it and knew the kingdom was mine alone.

Occultus must be dead.

A mission bell sound echoed across the sky. I knew the sound would roll on to announce a change of rule throughout Fairy. The tie’s green light brightened. Curls of magic grew around my fingers like ivy. A tendril of light from the tie rippled to my head, curling before my eyes into a mystic knot.

I heard: the sound of shuffling feet, the stir of anxious voices, the rub of fabric as a crowd approached. My dragon-nose told me these were the fey residents of the lower town. I smelled the acid tang of their fear. They’d lived with fear so long, it had become a kind of comfort. Now that it is gone, uncertainty scourged them. Fear darkened their souls. They’d come with question, hoping they’d like the answers, knowing it wasn’t likely.

I turned toward them as they edge closer, eyes wide with panic. One “Boo!” and they’d scatter. I refrained. They needed to see their new lord and know who they served.

They are mine! To profit from, to protect.

They were scarecrows at first, but as they got closer, they became ordinary fey in home-weave and leather. A few had walking sticks. Many carried jack-o-lanterns with grinning faces and candles inside. I saw no weapons. Nightmare’s power had always been all the defense they needed.

They saw the tie in my hand, the knot of energy floating in front of my face. They knelt. And a tongue of power from the tie whipped into my forehead, drilling into my thoughts, seeking a new pattern for the kingdom.

The tongue found the shadow shapes, my personal pantheon of dark gods from the astral plains, and took them. The tie blazed with spectral green light, throwing my dark shadow behind me.

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