Authors: Kate Douglas
Tags: #Romance, #Man-Woman Relationships, #Fiction, #General, #Paranormal, #Demonology, #Revenge, #Paranormal Romance Stories
Starfire (12 page)
Then the sword glowed. Dawson turned Selyn’s hand free. She stepped forward and knelt on one knee in front of the man—the one who was, without any doubt, the lost leader of the Lemurian people and the master of the crimson crystal blade.
She held his sword out to him, raising it above her bowed head in both hands. Artigos had been ready to speak, but he stopped and stared at the blade. Raised his eyes and looked at the men flanking Selyn, and then once again at the ruby sword.
His voice was scratchy, as if he rarely spoke. Thick with emotion as he finally recognized what Selyn held up to him.
“DemonsBane? Is it really you, my old friend?”
The sword flashed, and fire danced along the faceted blade. Artigos the Just reached for the hilt, but before he could grab it, the sword leapt out of Selyn’s hands and into his grasp. He clasped it in both hands and held the ruby sword with its fiery blade upright before him. Selyn sat back on her heels, grinning at the reunion between the man and his sentient crystal sword.
Tears coursed down his cheeks. He seemed transfixed by the weapon in his hands. It was obvious the two communicated, from the pulsing light dancing over the crimson blade, to the myriad expressions crossing Artigos’s face.
Long moments later, he lowered the blade and reverently set it on a nearby table. Selyn slipped the scabbard off her shoulder and handed it to him. “It’s not the original, Lord Artigos, but this scabbard belonged to a man who carried his weapon bravely in battle.”
“Thank you, my dear. I thank all of you.” He took the scabbard and gently slipped the sword inside the beautifully tooled leather. “DemonsBane tells me there are great things afoot. That my grandson has staged a coup and deposed his own father, the one who imprisoned me here.”
Roland stepped forward. “That is true. We’ve discovered that your son has been possessed by a demon. His son, Alton, has temporarily taken over the chancellor’s seat on the Council of Nine. He holds it only until the rightful leader of Lemuria can take his place.”
One expressive eyebrow arched as Artigos studied Roland for a long moment. Then he smiled and gestured to the various chairs about the room. “Please. Sit.” He grabbed the sheathed sword and carried it back to his chair, where he sat down with the look of one expecting to be there for a while.
“Tell me now,” he said. “I want to know everything that has happened and why you, Birk, a guard known for his cruelty, are here, now, helping these good people. And, it appears, helping me.”
“So that is the way of it, sir.” Roland rolled his big shoulders after telling the long and convoluted tale. He turned to Birk. “What of you, Birk? Is there more we should know? Do you have any idea how many of the guards are possessed?”
Birk nodded. “I do. All of them. There are two dozen of us, though a small contingent were recently called to serve above. I’m not sure why.”
Roland glanced at Dawson and Selyn. “That explains the unfamiliar guards I saw earlier, probably called in for backup by the possessed members of the council. They could be a problem for Alton.” He let out a huge gust of air. “Go on, Birk.”
Birk nodded. “I believe all of us who serve as wardens below have been possessed since the great move. Maybe even before that time. I wish I knew for certain. So many of my memories are just … gone.” He sighed, staring at the floor. “Yet, at the same time, I recall all too much. I fear I may never regain my honor, when I think of the terrible things we did to those poor women.” He raised his head and looked at Selyn. “Is there any chance of forgiveness, from you or from any of the Forgotten Ones?”
How could she answer for all her sisters? Selyn had listened to Roland’s story, and she’d told her own. She’d explained how the warrior women originally had been betrayed by Artigos—the son, not the father—who would now and forever be known as the usurper. Betrayed, purged from Lemurian society, and exiled to lives as slaves. How those same women had raised their daughters, how they’d grieved for the sons stolen from them. She’d been unable to look at Birk when she explained how all those babies had been the result of sexual assaults by the guards—they’d been raped by Birk and his fellow soldiers.
It had not been easy to tell the story without betraying her own anger, but she’d done her best. Could she rise above her need for revenge and actually forgive the one who had beaten her almost to death? The same man who might have fathered her sisters in the mines? A man who might even be her own father? She didn’t want to go there. Could not allow herself to think those thoughts.
Instead, she must consider whether or not she could forgive a man who, as both her heart and mind insisted, was as much a victim as any of the Forgotten Ones.
There was no other choice. She looked at the big man, sitting there with his hands dangling helplessly between his knees, and knew exactly what she had to say. “There is nothing to forgive you for, Birk. I saw the demon myself. It was an ugly, black stain upon your soul, and now it’s dead. That creature is responsible for the evil things done in your name. Not you.”
“Thank you.” His deep voice broke on the simple words. “I can only pray the other women will feel the same.”
She reached across the space between them and grabbed his hand in hers. That same hand had beaten her bloody, had broken her ribs, bruised her body. She squeezed his fingers and felt him return the pressure. “I can’t answer for them, but if you choose to help us I imagine they’ll understand and accept that you’re on our side. If what you say is true, there are twenty-three more guards we know of who are controlled by demonkind. We’ll need your help with them.”
There was no hesitation when he answered. “You have it.”
She glanced at Dawson. He’d added to their description of events with details of the battle against demonkind on Earth. Even Artigos the Just had laughed at Dawson’s tale of sucking up demons with a shop vacuum and freezing them into ice cubes.
“It appears—if all you say is true—that the DemonWars never ended. This is what I believe, and while I have no proof, I have had many long years to reach my conclusions, so please, hear me out.” Artigos stood up and unsheathed his sword.
“Time means nothing to demonkind. The plan to conquer Atlantis, Lemuria, and then the rest of Earth was set into motion thousands of years ago, long before Lemuria was destroyed. Atlantis was the first victim. I remember when they chose to encase their civilization in a protective shell and live beneath the sea, apart from all other worlds. We Lemurians were so quick to judge, to trivialize what had happened to a once great and powerful nation.”
He paused and gazed off into space, and Selyn wondered what terrible things he saw. Then he straightened his spine and returned his attention to them. “We thought the DemonWars were the final battle between Lemurians and demonkind. We thought we had won, but now I believe the battles were a ruse, nothing more than subterfuge to get us to let down our guard. We were warriors then. Our men were strong, our women every bit as powerful. We carried crystal, and demons could not stop us in battle.
“They could, however, stop us from the inside. Literally. One by one they began to take over members of the ruling class. Possession was subtle at first, and it appears many more possessions must have occurred after I was captured.”
“How did that happen?” Roland rose to his feet. “How could our leader simply disappear during the great move and not be missed?”
“My son must have been one of the first to be possessed. There was no reason for anyone to doubt his version of events. He arranged for these quarters in this dimension and organized a secretive group of special Lemurian guardsmen.” Artigos nodded at Birk. “You must have been one of the first, Birk. Possessed by demonkind, your every thought controlled by the evil within. Do you recall bringing me here, locking me in this room so many years ago?”
Birk hung his head. “Vaguely. Much from those early years is lost in a haze, as if I wasn’t really there.”
“I understand. In many ways, you weren’t. Birk, the young man who was an honorable soldier, was buried beneath the thoughts and actions of a lesser demon, one who ruled your mind with a subtle use of demonic power. It was a long time before I figured it out myself. In the beginning, I was convinced my son had staged a coup because he was mad for power. I ruled Lemuria more as sovereign, an overlord destined to hold my title for life. I had a council of advisors—a precursor to your current Council of Nine—but I was, for all intents and purposes, the king of Lemuria. At first, I was surprised when my son chose a more democratic form of government.
“Then, over the years, as I saw more here in the mines, and learned of more through gossip of events above, I became convinced of the constant presence of demonkind. The purge of the women warriors was irrevocable proof that evil now ruled my world. What happened to those brave women was a criminal act, one that can never truly be avenged.”
He smiled sadly at Selyn and shook his head. “DemonsBane tells me you fought bravely against Birk, that you have inherited the skills and the aptitude of your mother. I remember Elda. She was one of our finest soldiers in the DemonWars.”
“Thank you.” Selyn clutched Dawson’s hand and fought the tears choking her. Knowing her mother was remembered so well by their ruler was an unexpected gift.
Artigos had been pacing in the space between the chairs. Now he reached over and softly stroked Selyn’s hair. “My dear, there are so many wrongs that cannot be righted until demonkind no longer rules our people. I’ve maintained some mental connections with a few of those above without their knowledge, and stayed informed of some of our world’s events. I’ve come to believe that many of the members of my son’s council are possessed, just as my son, Artigos the younger, is possessed. The fact he instituted a democratic council and ruled from the chancellor’s position rather than as a king convinced our citizens that he had not overthrown my rule. That I had most likely died during the cataclysm of our dying continent. There was no reason for them not to trust him, but they were wrong to trust. The chancellor and council members are mere figureheads for the true leaders of Lemuria—demons.”
He paused and made eye contact with each one of them—Roland standing to one side, Birk, Dawson, and Selyn sitting so quietly, listening to his every word. Selyn knew she was in the presence of true greatness. This man was a born leader.
“Now, with all of you, with my grandson, and with my sword beside me, we have a chance to put our world right. A slim chance, but still a chance.”
“What happened to DemonsBane?” Dawson was studying the ruby blade. “This sword was only recently replicated below, and yet you recognize it as the one you had before. How can that be if the original was destroyed?”
Artigos stared at the blade for a moment. “I’m not sure. My weapon was taken from me the day I was captured, and I thought I would never see it again. DemonsBane? Would you care to answer?”
The sword pulsed with red fire. “My physical body was destroyed, the blade crushed, the pommel melted down, my spirit driven out. I have waited patiently in Mother Crystal for all these many years. Waited beside many other warriors who now inhabit the newly replicated swords. Once the crystal blade was formed anew, my spirit returned to it.”
Artigos ran his fingers over the faceted blade, stroking it as if it were a lover. “It is good to have you back, my old friend.” After a long, contemplative moment, he raised his head. “So, that is what you have, my friends. A world infiltrated by the enemy, a move forced upon an entire civilization by the very ones they thought they had vanquished in battle. Our home, our continent, was destroyed by demonkind. Many lives were lost, and I was betrayed by a demon masquerading as my son.”
He folded his hands behind his back and rocked back on his heels. “I am anxious to return to Lemuria, to take my rightful place as leader. But what of my son? Will Artigos fight to retain his seat? And what of his son, Alton? I’ve not seen him since he was a very young man, still a boy. Will he want to stay on as chancellor? If I am to rule my people once again, I must regain my position without bloodshed. We cannot fight evil by doing evil.”
Dawson and Roland exchanged glances. “I’m human,” Dawson said, “and therefore not really part of this discussion, but I do have a suggestion.”
“Speak. I am always open to fresh ideas.” Artigos chuckled. “The fact you are here in my residence, as one of those bent on freeing an old man too long imprisoned, gives you every right to offer as many suggestions as you wish.”
Dawson gave Selyn’s fingers a squeeze. “Taron of Libernus should have the swords ready to deliver to the Forgotten Ones any time now. I would suggest you remain here, as a decoy. That way the guards won’t suspect anything unusual is going on. It’s going to take us a while to transport a hundred crystal swords to the women. More time to get them handed out and for the women to get to know them. If we’re lucky, we should be able to accomplish this during the various shifts so that all the Forgotten Ones are fully armed before the guards realize what we’ve done. We also need to make our move against the demons controlling the guards.”
“Ah. This move against the demon-enslaved guards that you’re planning.” Artigos folded his hands across his chest. “Do you remember what I said about bloodshed?” He cocked an eyebrow at Dawson.
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