Red Moon Demon (Demon Lord) (17 page)

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 building
s
carved from ice, with thin
ner
sheet
s
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 dr
e
w a lot of attention but Izumi
even
more
so. F
ey 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 s
hame?” I said.

“
It’s t
hat 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,

S
talking 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.

SEVEN
TEEN

“
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…

C
onfident
?
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.
The
ir
Captain
occupied
a
n entirely new
level.
H
is
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
pass
ing
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
offer
ed
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
, “
Y
our death, if you push me.
D
o 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
turn
ing,
lumbered
off
,
as
the guards
quickly
clear
ed
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 were
n’t castles, but
black ice crows, fanning wings, eyes rubies
.
Bishops were druids in dark cloaks with r
oughhewn staffs in bony hands, but ther
e
was something vaguely reptilian about the faces.

Other terraces contained menagerie
s
of animals, many twisted and strange. A
sly-eyed pooka, a river-
dwe
lling
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 c
arv
ed
detail
surpassed anything I’d ever seen, making me wonder if these thing had once been real,
before falling afoul of
W
inter
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
, s
o perfect
I
didn’t
want to look away
.

We pushed on
toward
the
castle’s
main entrance.
T
wo ice doors
,
ea
ch
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
. T
heir
ice-
blue armor
shimmered as their prote
ctive magic reacted to my aura.

T
he
palace doors
rotated
open
with
a soft grating
sound
.
We went in
,
onto an ice floor chiseled to resemble fancy tile
s
.
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.
B
lue-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-star
s
. 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 i
f they
were to see
me as prey
. What they hold in contempt, they
slowly
torture and kill
.
As it was, e
very 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
jerk
ed 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 f
o
llowed her
across
the
hall, ice crunching underfoot. As we got further from the outside walls,
the
translucent blues
became deeper, darker.

B
efore we
got more than halfway across the hall,
Izumi stop
ped
,
crouching like a beast scenting danger, deciding wh
e
ther 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 w
as
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 G
iant
s, 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
strip
s winding around arms, legs, and waist
s
. Hammered bronze wristlets and necklaces adorned them. They wore horned helmets and sported
outrageous
beards
e
ncrusted 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.
“
W
hy
are there
frost giant
s
in
W
inter
C
ourt?”

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
W
inter
C
ourt for generation
s. W
hat the hell
’s goin’ on
?”

The giant
s
reached the ground floor and stomped our way. They
got bigger the closer
they
got
. I’d thought their ski
n 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
, t
he girl
’
s
lavender-blue
hair and cobalt eyes sh
o
ne 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.