Demon Singer (6 page)

"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 sing 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.

"Why are you telling me this?  Why didn't you just take over?  According to what you’re telling me, you could be the most powerful being on the face of the planet."

"I have my reasons, and they are my own.  It is enough to say, it is in my best interests to keep our relationship as it is and protect you as long as we are tied.  What's important right now is that you not lose control like that again.  While I can boost you with power, I cannot prevent you from taking it, and you were drawing on me heavy for that little fit you threw.  Not only is it dangerous for you, it's like setting off a flare saying 'come get us'."

As if on cue the sound of several running feet caused demoness and Singer to look up the street.  At least two dozen men were running toward them.  Lyric stood cautiously, already humming in his throat.  Acheron at his side said:

"I hate goblins." Turning with hands on hips to glare at Lyric.  "See?  This is
exactly
what I'm talking about.  Set off enough power and
someone
is going to notice.  I
hate
goblins, Lover.  They stink.”  She sighed.  "Oh well, let’s get this done.”  The demoness strode purposefully forward.

As the men drew closer, Lyric was able to see that Acheron was right.  Goblins can fit very easily into the human world.  Aside from slightly long ears, abnormally wide foreheads, and the tremendous stench of unwashed body, they didn't differ from humans a whole lot physically.  Goblins, however, had magic.  They had an ability, learned long ago and passed down through the generations.  Every goblin warrior could shift their location, transporting themselves easily through the ubiquitous shadows.  As soon as they disappear, they become completely ephemeral, allowing them to go through walls.  The best fighters time things so they can’t be touched by weapon strikes.

Lyric had spent some time running intelligence forays into a major goblin holding in North Dakota a few years back early in his fifth measure.  It had been his first command and he had lost a dear friend in the first run.  Quickly he learned the importance of being aggressive and cold.  A large piece of his innocence was lost in the catacombs of the Goblin King.  He remembered the stench all through the tunnels and snippets of children’s rhymes came to mind and immediately fled before stark reality as cold steel appeared from the shadows seeking the soft spots in his armor.  The second run left three of his soldiers dead and seven injured, but halfway through, Lyric changed objective from intel to slaughter.  In his anger, he began a fire starter song and sent it singing through the tunnels.  They had managed to burn an entire supply train, including its loading dock and all of the workers that did not manage to escape the inferno called up by his rage.  He refused to acknowledge the memory of screams he heard that did not belong to the workers or soldiers.  The rage and shame that accompanied the memories joined with the turmoil in his soul currently shattered what was left of his self-control.  Acheron was fireproof and there were no innocents here.

He opened his mouth and exerting his will deep inside his burning anger he released a vocalization that did not even have words.  His beautiful voice, the voice that made such a tremendous stir in the Guild and tied him to a demon resonated through his town.  Houses along either side of the street began to waver crazily before he realized he was seeing them through the waves of heat carrying his song through the air, enveloped and passed Acheron, leaving the demoness unharmed.  Then it reached the goblins.

The front line of the attackers barely managed to register surprise and never had a chance to display the fear that must have accompanied their incineration.  In mere seconds, Lyric stopped singing Acheron was staring at him with an unhappy expression, and the road behind her glowed red with an unholy heat.  The mailbox and streetlights nearby had melted like chocolate on a hot day.

Lyric wasn’t even breathing hard, all he felt was exhilarated, strong and proud.  He held tight to the sense of power, exulting in his victory, refusing to acknowledge what he knew awaited him in the quiet moments.  Looking at Acheron, he asked.

“Do you think there are anymore around?”

“It’s possible," she looked around at the circles of melted world that surrounded her.  Her usual glee at destruction was oddly absent.  "I don’t think they’ll bother us though, after what you just did to their brethren.  I’m sure there’ll be an attempted reckoning down the road, but you just set off another flare. Why don’t we just worry about finding your Prophet Man?  There's nothing you can do here, either they are all dead and beyond your help or they’re alive somewhere and you and I don’t know how to retrieve them.  Odds are if your prophet can tell you how to sever our tie without killing us, he can probably shed some light on this little mystery.”

Lyric resisted the sense she made, still riding high from his fiery display, wanting to do something more to whoever was responsible for taking his mother.  

Damn goblins, it was
their
fault for having non-military personnel inside that mine.  He had to make a call with men on the line who counted on him for protection and he made it, there was nothing about which to feel guilty.  

As his heart slowed and his head began to clear, his training asserted itself and he realized that he was at a complete loss here.  Obviously powerful magic was used to take the town, but for all his training, strength and ability, he did not have the slightest idea how to counter it.  He looked at red glowing asphalt where the goblins had been and instead of feeling better, his shame returned a hundredfold.  He had just ended a score of lives without a thought, without a twitch.  He had opened his mouth, called on his power and killed them.  Numbness punched him in his chest.  Not knowing what or how to feel he turned to the demoness.

“So, we get in the car and get back on the road.”  Lyric wearily ran his fingers through his hair.  “I might know someone who can help us find the Prophet Man.”

* * *

Kneeling down he touched the melted asphalt, cool to the touch.  They had been gone a while.  His cold eyes surveyed the wrecked street.  The boy's power was ridiculous. After the ease with which Lyric dispatched the hellhounds, wisdom demanded he be approached carefully.  Maybe an ambush, if he could get ahead of him somehow.  

One thing was sure; goblins were not the solution.  He remembered how long it took the boy to recover after the slaughter in North Dakota.  He had thought sending the goblins would throw him off.  Apparently, Lyric was made of sterner stuff than he had given him credit for.  

His phone buzzed in his pocket.  He ignored it, knowing it was the Guild Master again.  He had been trying to get a hold of him for days.

The man jerked his head at his large friend and they headed back to his truck.  Perhaps his mistress could advise him.  Hopefully she'd calmed down after his last failure.  He would find a suitable place to call her after they had been on the road a while.  Johaus pointed the direction they had gone.  Smiling at his Verger affectionately, Keith Normvy spun the wheel and hit the gas.