Taraxacum had been a study in crimson even on peaceful days, but I was sure the night had stained him with even more blood. The manticore had a crimson mane and fur unlike most of his kind, draconic wings a shade paler than his leonine body, and even his otherwise human head was lion-sized with a mouth full of sharp teeth. Not the kind of demon anyone would be eager to face.
However, even moving quietly, he noticed me as I crept up beside a burned-out house, one that had already turned to char without collapsing. “Anthurium,” Taraxacum growled, low and dangerous. “To think you would be hiding in a place like this, strategos. How the mighty fall, is that not so?” He huffed. “No. I think you were never mighty in the first place. And unlike you, I will soon rise again.”
“Both of us aren’t at our best, lieutenant, but you’re the only one who’s sunk to banditry,” I replied. For good measure, I asked, “How did you spot me?”
“Hah. So many of you bipedal weaklings think only of your eyes and ears. Your smell was clear to me, little general.” I could hear the grin in his voice. “And I can smell what few rabble you’ve scraped together to fight back. You’re nowhere near as clever as you claim if you think they can interfere before I kill you.”
“Why is that necessary? We’ve worked together already. You could use someone like me again.” I saw Sedum give me a sharp, angry look out of the corner of my eye, but I ignored him. “But why kill so many here? This wasn’t necessary, all you should have needed to take was supplies.”
“So small-minded, even now.” Taraxacum chuckled. “You never understood the truth of being a demon.”
Oh, he did not fucking say that. “Excuse me?”
“Strength is the only thing truly necessary. The strong survive and devour the weak. Aconite, misbegotten bitch that she is, understood that much.” Another dangerous growl. “But no matter the victims ripe for the taking after our victories, I never saw you feed on another once. Of course you wouldn’t understand our purpose here. I should have known something was wrong with you long before your betrayal.”
I clenched my teeth hard enough to hurt. “I’m not an idiot, Taraxacum. Demons can gain power from feeding on each other, everyone knows that.” Or mortals with enough mana to make a difference, but those weren’t nearly as easy to find. “If all you wanted to do was serve the strong, you could have surrendered to Aconite and been in her clan now, without this horseshit pointless slaughter. Don’t call me a traitor for running away just like you did yourself.”
“You think we did not try to surrender?” Taraxacum’s voice rumbled.
For a moment I was sure I’d heard him wrong. “What?”
“The battle was against us from the outset. And that centaur always with his head in his books shouted for surrender quickly.” Taraxacum snarled. “The battle continued unabating. So when Aconite made her appearance, he charged through the battlefield and made it all the way to her, simply to insist again. She tore that head of his off and threw it to her wolves, laughing.”
My blood turned to ice. “What– that’s ridiculous. She refused the surrender?” That didn’t make any sense. Aconite was a good tactician, why would she give up the chance to win the battle in one stroke? Even if she’d wanted to cull Phlox’s side, a surrender would have made it trivial to round them up as prisoners. She should have accepted, I’d planned for her to, I didn’t plan for this!
“She told us she would not let us end her hunt early. We did try to fight on then, what choice did we have? But they were too strong, too many. We scattered, we ran, and she hunted us like beasts.” He growled. “Perhaps she did choose a select few to keep for herself. But all the rest of the Obsidian Clan were rounded up and eaten.”
My stomach twisted as his words hit me, a violent pressure rising in my throat. This wasn’t what I’d meant to happen. Of course there would be casualties, I’d accepted the truth of that, but Aconite slaughtering everyone on her irrational whims? I’d made a grave mistake, miscalculated severely.
And everyone had died for my mistake, once again…
“Nothing to say? Not even a twitch on your expression. Well, that does show you never cared a whit for any of us.” I heard him huff. “Phlox should never have hired you, and you are an idiot if you think I would follow his mistake. No, I will make a new clan of these remnants, with no place for you in it. I would have preferred my fellow manticores, but the night’s feast will make the weaklings stronger. We can continue to feed on the weak and newly emerged until none can threaten us.”
I shook myself out of dark thoughts’ grasp, reminding myself to focus. I couldn’t see Taraxacum’s face right now, but I was surprised he hadn’t attacked me yet. He must have liked hearing himself talk. “You’re the small-minded one if you think that will work. You think you could stand up to major powers with what, a dozen demons? No, you’re–” My voice paused for a second, before I insisted on continuing. “Nowhere near strong enough to pull that off. You’re lucky you didn’t fight Aconite, she would have crushed you without a second thought…”
Taraxacum’s snarl ripped through the air. Pouncing at me, he might have taken my head off my shoulders, or shredded me with his claws.
Unfortunately for him, I wasn’t standing where he thought I was. I couldn’t even see just how he did react – but the rattling slam as he hit the building before me was enough to confirm my taunts had worked. I heard a scream from Boquila, but one seeming to be of a frightened rather than maimed timbre. So the piru disguised as me had escaped death too, manticore pounce going over his head.
“Now,” I said sharply, letting go my grip on the horned hare demon I’d been feeding lines to project. Byzantina wouldn’t be happy with me, after I’d made it clear to both her and Boquila that their choice was cooperate or die. But she had played along and not alerted Taraxacum, so I’d assume she’d obey the fealty they'd both sworn.
Crassula dashed forward before Taraxacum could recover from his, I presumed, self-inflicted headache. She swung a talent’s weight of steel at the charred house’s corner column. A crack rang out, and with a rumbling, crashing clamor, the building collapsed forward onto Taraxacum as Crassula jumped back out of the way. Another loud roar of mixed pain and frustration filled the night.
“That better not have hurt Bo,” Byzantina growled at me. Jackalopes were one of the few demon types shorter than me, but I had no doubt she could hurt me badly if she tried.
“He’s fine.” I wouldn’t spend time on a longer answer telling her he knew the plan. If he was clear, he’d be safe. If not, my armor I’d draped on him wouldn’t stop a collapsing house. But it had successfully masked my scent. Take that, Taraxacum.
I whistled, next. A collapsing building wouldn’t be enough, so Uvaia dove down from above. Too high for Taraxacum to have smelled, she dropped like a stone towards him. She had natural talent but no honed strength I could tell, so I couldn’t bet on her managing to break his neck, even if it wasn’t too buried in rubble to reach.
Wings, however, were much more fragile. And judging by the sharp fleshy rip that made Gia flinch beside me, and the resultant scream in Taraxacum’s voice, Uvaia had hit one revealed enough to tear in half. Good girl.
With the manticore reeling in pain, Sedum stepped up around the other side of the broken building, halberd gleaming as he raised it to deliver the finishing blow.
It should have worked. It would have worked, except that instead of letting Sedum split his skull, a stream of red flame shot out beyond the side of the house, and Sedum roared and stumbled, clutching his side.
What the fuck, Taraxacum had not been able to do that before. No one but Phlox in our army could. “Sedum, pull back!” I shouted, swiftly recalculating. Okay, we could still do this. Engagement was more dangerous, but he was injured and pinned down, inflict enough of a wound and we could just bleed him to death.
A rumbling sound filled the air as Sedum stumbled backwards, and I tensed, having an awful feeling that was Taraxacum shaking off the debris atop him. I hadn’t thought he’d be able to do that, either. Manticores were physically strong, but this much? “So that’s where you really were? You and your clever little tricks,” I heard him growl.
Crassula yelled a battle cry and there was a shunk follwed by another agonized scream from Taraxacum, sounding even worse than the wing. I heard the noise of flesh striking flesh, and a blow sent Crassula tumbling backwards. She came to a stop in a few feet, holding tight to her axe whose weight she’d used as an anchor, and pulling herself back up with surprising speed.
But Taraxacum did not follow to engage her further. His vast bulky form emerged around the house’s corner, bulling Sedum aside as he charged. One wing was torn and dragging, blood dripping from the stump of his tail, but his eyes were aglow with a feral madness. I dimly noticed our jackalope conscript fleeing, and frankly I couldn’t blame her.
I clutched my loaded crossbow in my one good hand. I couldn’t aim well with my injury, but one bolt could be enough. If he didn’t kill me first.
With a fearful whine, Gia pushed her way in front of me as Taraxacum charged, but he grabbed her in a paw and threw her aside like a doll. Gia hit the half-collapsed wall with a crack that put my heart in my throat, as he loomed over me.
Uvaia landed on Taraxacum’s back with a screech, talons raking at his eyes. He roared in pain, batting at her blindly now but not landing blows. I took the opening to aim, and with an explosion of muscle he threw her like a horse would a rider, roaring again.
Uvaia hit the ground with a cry, and as Taraxacum settled down I pulled the trigger of my crossbow. I'd aimed directly at his open mouth, up into his throat and hopefully his brain.
He caught my crossbow bolt between his teeth. Fangs in his human face bit down, snapping it.
Love this story? Find the genuine version on the author's preferred platform and support their work!
For fuck’s sake.
Taraxacum spat out the half-projectile, deep gashes over his eyes, and shoved me to the ground with a paw, jarring my teeth as my head hit the earth. “This is nothing,” he insisted, panting for breath. “All of your tricks. And I’m still alive. I still won.” He leered down at me, and I could see his teeth were stained with blood. “Do you want to know why?”
I was out of tricks. I just glared up at him. I should have felt more scared, but I’d rather have spat in his face.
“Before I eat your heart, you’re going to know how I outsmarted you.” Taraxacum grinned. “Did you really think I’d have slaughtered this town to strengthen my clan…and wouldn’t have saved the lion’s share for myself?”
…fuck. Boquila said they’d brought him the villagers, but there had been so few auras left in the town. None around Taraxacum’s. None left alive.
“That’s right.” He chuckled, an unsteady sound. “You never did know what it means to be a demon.” He took a deep breath, and I could see flames glowing in his throat.
They glowed there for a second longer. Then he made a low, strangled sound and his head was pulled hard to one side.
I’d give him one thing. He fought it. I could see the muscles in his neck straining, his jaw clenching, eyes filling with panic. A high, thin scream forced its way out between his lips.
He lasted a full second, before a visceral krrrcchh twisted his head in a circle, and a snap broke it free from his spine completely. His scream hit a fever pitch before ending abruptly, and I heard a faint whoosh as the flame ignited his insides.
The beast’s human head bounced, rolling over to Gia. She was standing tall with a hand outstretched towards Taraxacum, mouth half open, eyes twin blue swirls of fury and fear.
Then his head bumped her foot. She looked down, met dead eyes, and a full body shudder went through her. Gia collapsed back against the wall, covering her mouth.
Her groan very nearly sounded like her own death rattle.
- - -
All in all, we’d come through the battle with surprisingly little damage. Gia hadn’t been hurt by being thrown into the wall, and Crassula's snakebite had stopped bleeding without any signs of her beig poisoned. Uvaia might have had a scrape or bruise but little more than that. And even both the bandits we’d press-ganged, Boquila and Byzantina, had made it through in one piece.
Sedum was the most hurt, and he could have been much worse. “His aim was off, I’d say,” he told us, smile offset by a voice tight with pain. The left side of his torso was marred with dark red burns and blisters, from where Taraxacum's jet of flame had grazed him. It formed a strange contrast with his green skin, but he would live. His fighting would be impacted until he healed, of course.
Very likely Taraxacum had never used that Art before, if he’d only gained it tonight. I’d never managed to use a demon magic technique myself, but I had inferred long ago that there was a learning curve involved. Gia’s first fleshwarp demonstrated that as well as anything. Thankfully, her second try had been effective enough.
Still, we might have survived, but the village had not. A few people might have fled into the trees, I would think some had enough survival instincts for that. But by and large, this would be a dead town now, abandoned. Killed by the depredations of a blustering manticore, and the warlord and strategist who'd pushed him to it.
“What now?” Uvaia asked me once we’d taken stock of the situation. We'd formed a small circle, those five of us who'd fought together. Gia was staring off into space.
“There's not much for us here anymore. We'll need to head to the city, Hymetos will be a place we can set up again.” No one seemed to object to that, which was good, as the next part would be a harder sell. “And we're going to take the others with us.”
Sedum looked sharply at me. “You really mean to take those bastards along? After everything they did here?”
“Yes, I do. Traveling is dangerous, a larger group should keep opportunists off our backs. And if we run into major danger, then we'll want to have troops we can afford to lose.” That seemed to mollify him somewhat. So he didn't need to know I had no actual plans to sacrifice the Obsidian remnants. Well. Not unless it became necessary.
I took a moment to think over my words. “Fly up above, call this down to whatever bandits you see. ‘Taraxacum is dead, killed by his better. Scatter if you will, but if you don’t want to be left alone and leaderless, then assemble by the northern road to swear allegiance to Lady Hydrangea.’ ”
Sedum looked like he had a bad taste in his mouth again, but Uvaia didn’t miss a beat. “Got it,” she told me. She did look at me in a hesitant, expectant way for a second, but I wasn't sure what she'd want with the battle now over. So after a pause, she took wing once again.
“Lady Hydrangea, I suggest that we–” She wasn’t there when I turned to her, and I had to look around. Gia was stumbling away towards the road, and I hastened after her in alarm. “Lady Hydrangea!” I called, but she didn’t respond. Wincing and mindful of the demons both familiar and not, I called more softly, “Gia.”
She didn’t turn back toward me, but she did stop in place, standing beside a smoldering house with its door torn off its hinges.
“Hey, you did well. What’s going on?” I asked her, stepping around her since she wouldn’t face me herself. “Really, I’m grateful for what you did.” A faint smile froze on my lips as I saw her expression.
Gia’s eyes were wet and full with tears, and her shoulders were trembling. “I killed him,” she whispered.
“Uh, yes?” This was apparently the wrong thing to say, as her shoulders hunched up and her expression tightened. Quickly, I grasped for explanations, alternatives. “You did save my life with it,” I pointed out, hesitant. Suddenly mindful of how insistent she'd been to not kill Crassula.
“I know. I know, I had to, when he was about to kill you like that.” She shook her head, teeth clenching. “But god, the way he screamed.”
“Would you have rather given him a quick death?” Most demons were not especially prone to doling these out, but there were those that respected fallen opponents enough for it. And I supposed Gia might not want anyone to suffer. Personally, I'd been more than happy for him to suffer.
“Why did there have to be this death at all? Why did any of this have to happen?” She gestured around weakly at the remnants of the town, and I felt yet another pang of regret. “You screamed like that too, when I tried to heal you,” Gia said, voice thick as she wiped her eyes. “I didn’t want to put anyone through that again.”
So that was why she hadn’t wanted to kill? No, that couldn't have been the only reason. “Do you regret killing him?”
Gia winced, and swallowed. “No. If it was you or him, I’d pick you every time. I didn’t even think about it.” She made that sound like a confession. “Maybe another way would have been better. Not as bad. What I did… it just hurts.”
I wasn’t sure what to say. I tried to reach for her, swallowed a curse at the blinding pain, and reached more clumsily with my right hand, now. I managed to awkwardly pat her on the shoulder.
The first time I’d killed someone was a lifetime ago. I knew it hadn’t hurt me like this. Was I in the wrong back then, or was she? “You did the right thing,” I told her softly. That much, I was sure of.
“I did the only thing.” She sniffed again. “God, I hate this.”
I caressed her shoulder. Her eyes were still running, but she attempted a tight smile, so that did seem to help. “Living here as a demon isn’t easy.” Gods know I knew that was true. “But it doesn’t have to be like this forever. When someone wins the throne, when the clans have fallen in line and won’t see any gain from fighting each other, this won’t have to happen anymore.”
Gia wiped her eyes again, taking a deep breath and letting it out. “Do you promise?” she asked, meeting my gaze with bright, glistening eyes. “That we’ll be able to live here peacefully, one day.”
“Trust me.” And I did feel an ache in my chest as I told her that, remembering all the promises to bright-eyed demons I couldn’t fulfill. But this time it would be different. It had to be different.
Gia blew out another breath. She looked marginally calmer. “Do we really need to have the other ones who did this ‘swear allegiance’ to us? To me?”
Oh, so she hadn't been too zoned out to listen. “It’s either that or we kill them. Or just let them go and attack whoever else they’ll want, later.” She winced, and I gently squeezed her shoulder. “But by exerting authority, we can keep them in line.”
I led her back to Crassula and… not Sedum, as it turned out. Some of the other demons were gathering a few feet off with Boquila and Byzantina, speaking in low tones and looking our way as Gia and I walked up. Several of their gazes held recognition. Nearly all of them showed fear.
“Where did the innkeeper go?” I asked Crassula. Two deep punctures were still visible on her face.
She pointed the way we'd come initially, towards the woods and the inn. “Back that way. Looked like he had something important.” Crassula looked up at Gia for a moment, studying her face.
I hoped Sedum hadn’t chosen to leave after all, but if he had we’d be able to make do without him. “Stay here, Lady Hydrangea will be with you soon,” I called to the other demons.
Crassula put a hand on Gia's arm as she moved to follow me, and I flinched as she lifted up her axe. But she simply leaned it against one shoulder, reaching up to Gia's face with a grubby hand and wiping off the tear streaks on her cheeks, as Gia stared at her in surprise.
I kicked myself for not having thought of that. I supposed even goblins would know how tears meant weakness. Gia’s eyes weren’t too puffy, so that ought to help for when I had Gia address the others. “Come on,” I told Gia and Crassula, beckoning them along as Crassula stepped back.
With the way she’d placed her oversized axe, it might have blocked the gathering demons from seeing Gia’s tears. I wasn’t sure if that was intended or an accident.
On the way as we looked for Sedum, Uvaia fluttered down to join us. “I think I found everyone,” she told me, letting out a sigh. “Everyone listened, I'm pretty sure, too. Threw down their torches or victims and started heading back to where we were.” She said that like she was describing the weather, before a discomfited expression spread over her face. “But I also saw Sedum, and, um. I think you should come along.”
When we did find the older orc, he turned out to be standing still, looking up at a two-story building on fire.
The Sleepy Ogre inn was no more. I'd only been here for a week, but it had sheltered me and been my home for all that time. And if even I felt the loss, Sedum must have been taking it worse. “Sorry about your livelihood,” I muttered, but started as I saw him walk forward into the flames. “Hey!” Damn it, if orcs had some weird tradition of ritual suicide…
He emerged less than a minute later, but though it wasn’t that, the truth wasn't much better. Held in his arms was a small red unmoving body. Yaupon, the imp who’d worked in his kitchen for who knows how long.
“Oh, no,” Uvaia breathed. She fluttered up to his side, looking anxiously at the orc’s downcast face. She was quiet a moment before she reached a wing out to the imp’s face and closed his glassy eyes.
“I’m so sorry,” Gia whispered, hands over her mouth.
Crassula looked uncertain just how to respond. But with a glance at Sedum, she took off her helmet and bowed her head.
“Would you rather go another way from us?” I asked the orc man somberly. The imp hadn’t meant much to me, we'd barely even talked, but I had to show respect for Sedum’s own loss.
Sedum looked at me, then Uvaia, then Gia. And he shook his head roughly. “No. No, I’ll stay.” But the rough note to his voice made me sure this wouldn’t be soon forgotten.
- - -
There were roughly a dozen survivors of those under Taraxacum, all told. The satyrs Sedum had knocked out, the oreads Crassula had beaten, and our piru and jackalope were those I’d seen. Beyond that, there were a trio of beastfolk, cat, fox, and rabbit. A half-spider arachne, whose web-spinning skills would help both in and out of combat. And lastly, Eupatorium, one of the skeletal spartoi demons kept ‘alive’ by lust for battle. I remembered him, and he might be a problem.
Not many of them had seen Gia, either, but by now her being the one who’d killed Taraxacum had spread through the band of survivors. Still, the first impression she made on them would be essential. They would expect her to be their new leader, and Gia badly needed to learn to lead.
I’d coached her quietly on what to say as we walked back over. How she should act. Trying to prepare her. “Don’t hesitate in speaking, don’t let on any nervousness or fear. Tell them how things will be. Make it clear that they have to obey you. And think through your words before you speak, so you can be sure of what you say. But above all, don’t act human.”
As Gia took her place in front of the small crowd, she took some of my advice, but not all. “I know your old leader brought you here to kill the people in this town,” she began. Her voice was tremulous at first but grew steadier as she continued. “If I’d known that was what he wanted, I would have stopped him before he ever got here. What happened here,” she said, eyes and voice hardening, “Will not be happening again.”
“I don’t know how many people each of you has killed. I know I can’t change that you have done it. But if you’re going to come with me, there won’t be any more of this, this killing just to get stronger. If you do have to kill, then it’ll only be to defend yourself, or each other.”
“If you don’t like the sound of this. If you want to leave, and attack more people who’ve done nothing to you,” She took a deep breath. “I will stop you.”
Silence fell as we stared at her. My stomach had sank progressively throughout Gia’s little speech. I couldn’t imagine most of these other demons knew what to think. I should have given her a damn script, who knew if they’d even take her seriously with this kind of rhetoric, or if she’d be able to follow through if they did try and leave…
A sharp clap, clap rang out through the air. Crassula, who might have had the most bloodstained history of the lot, was applauding slowly but loudly, gaze fixed on Gia. “Lady Hydrangea!” she called, grasping her axe in a hand and hoisting it into the air.
As her clapping stopped, another set of firm applause started. “Aye, here’s to the lady,” Sedum said, voice raised and carrying over the small crowd.
That was enough to break the silence, and a few hesitant voices joined in, calling out Gia’s name as blank uncertainty took on a shade of hope. The satyrs, the arachne, and the rabbitfolk, along with Boquila the piru and Uvaia.
On just as many faces, however, I saw doubt and disdain. The cat and fox-folk stayed silent and tight-lipped, the oreads were muttering with mutinous looks, Byzantina the jackalope scoffed and looked away. And though Eupatorium’s skull showed only a ghastly grin, the orange eyelights in his skull blazed with scorn as he looked at Gia.
But I could deal with all of that. We were no longer just a handful of fragile demons, we now had a small warband under Gia’s command, even with her own reluctance to use it. Not much power, but still power to exert and leverage to obtain more.
My plans were proceeding apace. And whether or not Gia approved of such methods, I would destroy any obstacles keeping us from reaching them.