Thaumatology 02 - Demon's Moon Read online

  ~~~

  Ceri drifted into consciousness as a blanket was placed over her. She shivered and tried to focus. Moving sent pain searing through her body and she let out a cry. ‘I’m sorry,’ Remus voice reverberated through her mind and she flinched sending further pain up her spine.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ he repeated, ‘but they are still useful to me.’

  Her vision blurred again. Perhaps she was only imagining the tone of… respect? Her body spasmed and she blacked out. Her last thought was a prayer that she would not wake up.

  December 21st

  The cuffs were gone. That was the first thing Ceri realised. The next thing was that her clothes were gone too, but she was wrapped in a blanket. She twisted, turning to look around and the third thing struck her; the pain was gone.

  ‘Your garments were ruined,’ Remus said. ‘Well, the jacket and boots are there beside you, but I felt you would sleep more comfortably without.’

  Ceri pulled herself up into a sitting position. She was still beside the tent pole so she leant against it. ‘You healed me,’ she said.

  His rough laughter filled her head. ‘Not I, child. My talents lie in destruction. One of Magnus’ associates is still untainted and I… persuaded him that you would be easier to ask questions of if you were conscious.’

  Ceri nodded. ‘One of them isn’t pacted. I noticed this morning. One out of five. That’s a fairly stupid, power hungry bunch of mages.’

  ‘You’d be more comfortable in the chair,’ Remus stated, presumably ignoring the implied question on purpose rather than because he had not noticed it.

  The camp chair Magnus had used earlier was still there. Ceri pulled her blanket tighter and tried to stand up. It was not easy. After a couple of attempts, she gave up and let go of the blanket, pulling her boots over instead; her feet would be warmer with them on. Picking up her jacket, she stood and slipped her arms into it before reaching for the blanket again. When she straightened up she saw Remus, his eyes watching her intently. She raised an eyebrow, but he continued staring so she wrapped the blanket around herself under her arms and then zipped the jacket up over it. Sitting down, she wrapped her legs in the blanket and lay back. He was right, it was more comfortable.

  ‘I’ll make no apology,’ he said. ‘You’re an attractive woman and I’ve not had the chance to examine one so closely in a century.’

  ‘Thanks,’ Ceri said. ‘You’re pretty hot yourself.’

  ‘Hot?’ There was confusion in his voice. ‘Oh, colloquialism, yes. Thank you.’

  Ceri grinned. The lack of pain was boosting her spirits so long as she did not think about how she had got the pain in the first place. ‘Shame you can’t materialise in human form,’ she said.

  ‘I could, once,’ he replied, ‘when my brother’s foolish people worshipped me. I would appear to them sometimes, though my form was restricted by their beliefs.’

  ‘Quirinus,’ Ceri said, ‘a bearded man in military uniform, right?’

  There was the rough sound of laughter again. ‘Indeed. Later they stopped depicting me in religious art. I grew more like this as time went on and stopped coming to them.’

  ‘But you never attacked them?’

  ‘I led hordes of barbarians to sack Rome,’ he replied with good humour, ‘once their worship had fallen away and I could gain more from others.’

  ‘I don’t understand you,’ Ceri said. ‘You want to destroy the world, but you care for your enemy. You could have left me, cold and hurting, and I’d have been in a much worse position to try anything to stop you.’

  His eyes sparkled as he looked at her. ‘Where would the challenge be in that, girl? You may be of the Blood, but you came into your power recently, I think. Rest now. By this time tomorrow one of us will be dead. You’ll need your strength.’

  Ceri closed her eyes. He was right, she might as well rest. She had come to the camp hoping to gain some piece of information, some advantage, which would let her finish the creature before her. There was nothing to find, no advantage to be found. She either had what she needed, or she was going to be the one to die. But as she drifted into sleep, her drowsy mind wondered what he had meant about blood. He was the second one to mention it like that, as though it were some sort of heredity. Well, she would probably never get to find out…

  ~~~

  She was woken by a slap on the face and fully awake enough to catch Magnus’ wrist as he tried again when she did not immediately look at him. ‘If you’re going to do that,’ she said, pushing his arm away, ‘you’d better cuff me again.’

  Magnus backed away from her, his face showing anger and, perhaps, a hint of fear. ‘Remus assures us that you will do no harm to us until tonight,’ he said.

  ‘You don’t believe him though,’ Ceri stated. ‘You think I’m just waiting for the right moment to strike.’

  ‘Aren’t you?’

  She shrugged. ‘I suppose I am,’ she said. ‘You think I know when that is though.’ She stared at him for a second and then said, ‘Should I get undressed?’

  ‘That tactic appears to be ineffective,’ he replied. ‘I have another.’ He turned slightly and raised his voice. ‘Tanner! Get in here.’

  A small, rat-like man pushed the tent flap aside and came into the tent. He looked older than Magnus did, balding with a long nose and hazel eyes which flicked back and forth nervously. Ceri had seen him out in the camp and he had been on his own then. He was one of the pacted ones, second to Magnus in his abuse of demonic power as best she could tell. He smiled at her and she suddenly felt like she needed a bath.

  ‘Tanner’s demon is an Incubus Lord,’ Magnus said. ‘I’m sure you’d be surprised to discover how many women he’s had. However, he’s not going to touch you, are you Tanner?’

  Tanner looked distinctly unhappy about that, but he said, ‘No, Master Magnus.’

  ‘Give our fair slut an example of why she’s going to talk to us,’ Magnus ordered.

  The rat-mage raised his hand, muttering something under his breath and Ceri frowned. His fingers clenched suddenly into a fist and Ceri’s body arched up off the chair, her eyes widening as energy burned up through her Tantric Median, exploding in her brain like a nova. It lasted perhaps ten seconds, ten seconds of concentrated, rapturous, ecstasy, and then she was collapsing back into the chair, panting.

  ‘Tanner calls it “Rapture of Heaven,” don’t you Tanner?’ Magnus said.

  Ceri’s blanket had opened during her seizure and Tanner was staring at her, grinning broadly. ‘Yes, Master Magnus.’

  ‘It has nothing to do with that particular plane, however,’ Magnus went on. ‘A few more applications of it and you’ll be begging him to give you more. Horribly addictive. Would you like to try it again?’

  Ceri pulled her blanket back into place. Her breathing was still laboured. ‘I… I had a… lot of cock yesterday,’ she said. ‘I’m... pretty over-sexed, you kn-ah!’ A second wave of pleasure hit her, but this time she bit down on it, her will crashing against Tanner’s. She glared at him and he flinched back. Now he was panting, the exertion of generating the power for the spell showing in his face.

  Magnus grunted. ‘Again, Tanner,’ he snapped.

  Ceri was watching this time, her Sight engaged to see the spell building through Tanner’s Chakral Median. The blackness twined around the thread of light burned darker, adding to his power. Tanner clenched his fist and the spell flared from his hand. ‘No,’ Ceri said calmly, ‘your turn.’

  Tanner’s body stiffened as the spell twisted around and lashed back at him. He trembled, panting, and fell to his knees. Ceri wondered how often he had felt those effects before. He fell to all fours, gasping for breath, and Magnus kicked him in the chin. The rat-mage went down like a sack of rocks and Magnus stormed toward the tent flap to the sound of Ceri’s laughter.

  ~~~

  Ceri looked up as one of the mercenaries stepped into the tent. It was the one who had escorted her around with Phelps the day before and he avo
ided looking at her face as he placed a plate on the table. There were a few sandwiches on it. He placed a water flask beside it and turned to leave.

  ‘You enjoy it?’ she asked. There had been two men in the tent when it had started, and Phelps had been speaking to her, close to her face now she thought about it. Someone else had taken her first.

  The young merc turned, looking back at her, but still looking anywhere but her eyes. ‘I can see why Phelps said I didn’t want to know your name,’ she said. ‘He knew what Magnus wanted you guys to do. This way I can objectify you, make you into nothing more than a thing that persecuted me. Nice of him.’ She watched the boy’s discomfort. ‘I don’t suppose he told you my name for the same reason,’ she went on. ‘It’s Ceri, Ceridwyn Brent. Daughter of David and Marion Brent. I want you to know that. I want you to know who it is you raped.’

  He was trembling as he left the tent. As she picked up one of the sandwiches she heard the sound of someone retching outside.

  ~~~

  Darkness was falling when Phelps walked in. Ceri had been left on her own for more or less the entire day. There had been a couple of mercs who had dragged Tanner’s unconscious body out of the tent, and the boy, but otherwise she had been left with nothing to do and had dozed through half the short afternoon.

  ‘I wanted to say goodbye, Miss Brent,’ the mercenary leader said. ‘I won’t be seeing you again whatever happens.’

  ‘Goodbye, Mister Phelps,’ she replied. ‘I’d like to be able to say it was a pleasure, but it was anything but.’

  ‘It was just business,’ he said. ‘That was a nasty trick you pulled on Rogers.’

  Ceri shrugged. ‘He’s in the wrong business. Can I give you some advice?’

  ‘You can give it,’ he replied.

  ‘Get out now. Don’t wait for Remus to turn up. Leave.’

  ‘That’s not the contract,’ he said. ‘We leave as soon as it’s dark. Not waiting for her reply, he turned and walked out, leaving her in the gathering gloom once more.

  She only had to wait another ten minutes or so before Remus’ ghostly form rose from the ground in front of her. He actually smiled at her, his eyes glowing brightly. Then she saw the energy gathering around him, swirling and tightening until it solidified into the horrific form he walked through the world in. She definitely preferred the ghostly version.

  ‘I’ll be with you briefly,’ the ghost-wolf’s voice said in her head. ‘There’s something which needs to be taken care of first.’ He raised his head and a howl ripped through Ceri’s mind. She flinched back in her chair, struggling to control the urge to run.

  Screams and gunfire followed the howl. Ceri knew what was happening out there. She had warned Phelps, even if he had not listened. She knew that Rogers really was in the wrong business, or rather he had been in the wrong business.

  Magnus burst into the tent. ‘Why?’ he snapped. It was the wrong thing to do.

  Remus’ hand moved far faster than Ceri would have given the creature credit for, gripping Magnus by the throat and lifting him off the ground with no obvious effort. ‘If you had not had them violate a defenceless woman,’ Remus hissed, ‘I might have allowed them to live. They are of no further use to me. See that you do not become of no further use to me.’

  The wizard was dropped to the floor, his legs buckling under him. Scrabbling backward to the entrance, he left as quickly as he had come.

  Remus turned and his voice carried more than a hint of good humour. ‘We have several hours before the time of the Solstice, Fair One. What would you like to talk about?’

  Ceri blinked. ‘I, uh…’

  ‘Wine!’ Remus interrupted. ‘We need wine. And a feast, I think. One should greet one’s demise on a full stomach.’ He was marching out of the tent before she could say anything else. Apparently, mass homicide made for a very happy demi-god.

  ~~~

  The sound of Remus’ laughter echoed through Ceri’s head once again. He really was in good humour and the wine, a rather good Chianti, was flowing a little too freely for Ceri to keep her head entirely straight. She imagined that it was unlikely that Remus was suffering much from his enthusiastic alcohol intake, but he seemed to be very merry. So long as she did not consider where the meat he was eating had come from, Ceri was pretty merry too.

  ‘And then,’ he said, continuing his story, ‘Analeous shot the fool in the behind!’ Ceri’s eyes widened and she burst into a fit of giggles. ‘Right in the meat, and he spent the next ten minutes shrieking and running around in circles, and the only thing we could make out was, “You shot me in the arse! You shot me in the arse!”’

  If Ceri were honest, tales of what an ancient Roman and his brother got up to a couple of thousand years earlier, and mostly involving overdone violence, boozing, and the enthusiastic deflowering of virgins were not entirely to her taste. The wine was good and Remus was a congenial psychopath. There was nothing much she could do about it and she might as well enjoy it. She could imagine Alec’s opinion of her behaviour, but Alec was not there.

  Leaning forward, Remus poured more wine into her glass. ‘Are you trying to get me drunk?’ she asked, grinning.

  ‘I’m hardly in a position to take advantage,’ he replied.

  ‘Sorry about that.’ She was a little surprised to realise she meant it.

  ‘Not as much as I am,’ he stated. ‘It’s been a long time since I’ve had a woman, or even a man.’ His voice was not really sad, more… resigned. ‘Tonight it ends though. Either way I won’t care about that.’ He looked up at her. ‘You’re young, virile, quite attractive though a little more meat on your bones would not go amiss. You’ve had many lovers?’

  She was taken a little by surprise by the question, and really she was not sure how to answer it. ‘Uh, lovers? No, not many of those, not really.’ His brow furrowed, clearly not believing her. ‘I mean, real lovers,’ she explained. ‘I’ve had sex with more, but all of it’s been pretty recent.’ She grinned. ‘I’m not being very clear. My parents were both practitioners, enchanters. I was born with no magic so they gave me some.’ It was a lie, sort of, her enchantments had contained and directed her own, sorcerous power, but the effect had been the same. ‘They gave me a protection enchantment which stopped magic and supernatural things from hurting me. Thing is, when a father is protecting his daughter, he can go a bit overboard. Boys just didn’t notice me until this summer when the enchantments were destroyed in an accident.’

  She took a sip of her wine. ‘So, since then I’ve had two werewolf packs, I’ve been sort of mated to a werewolf, and I’ve taken a half-succubus as a lover because otherwise she would have taken me, but that’s about it.’

  Remus’ laughter filled her head. ‘Is that all?’ he said ‘Two werewolf packs?’

  Ceri’s cheeks coloured. She did sound like a slut. ‘Well the first was to try to get the pack Alpha to be a bit more lively. His pack were, uh, worried, and I, uh… That’s not really helping. The other time was research. I shape shifted to a female werewolf so I could learn about werewolf pack behaviour and…’

  ‘I recall the usual ritual when a new female joins the pack,’ Remus said. ‘Did you enjoy yourself?’

  ‘It was a little crazy,’ she replied, blushing. ‘I didn’t really understand most of what was going on. I was just being passed from male to male and werewolves… aren’t exactly big on foreplay? But there were females there to make sure I wasn’t overwhelmed or hurt. It was weird to be part of a ritual that was caring and bestial at the same time.’ Her blush deepened. ‘And, yeah, it was really… I felt kind of… I don’t know how to explain it.’ She frowned slightly. ‘And I honestly don’t know why I’m telling you I liked getting fucked by a dozen werewolves.’

  His face was not designed to smile, but she got the feeling that he was. ‘I told you,’ he said, his mental voice carrying the humour of the feeling, ‘there’s no point in secrets between us, Fair One. We both sit here waiting for the other to move, or slip that we migh
t take advantage.’

  ‘I’m not,’ Ceri said.

  ‘Not consciously, perhaps,’ Remus replied, ‘but I’ve seen… well, in truth it has been men I’ve sat watching in these circumstances, but the look is the same. Most have sat in armour, or clutching a weapon, but they look the same.’

  ‘What do I look like?’ Ceri said, bemused. ‘I don’t understand. I’m no warrior or general. I’m a college student.’

  ‘I was raised a shepherd, girl,’ Remus replied. ‘I recall hearing of a famous swordsman in Japan who killed his first man as a boy of thirteen, beating him with a stick. Do you think he learned that? No, it was inborn talent. You destroyed two of my wolves defending that female in Londinium. You led your contingent well on that day, and you had the courage to stand up to another of mine before then. I see your eyes and your heart, Ceridwyn Brent. Your eyes are quick and intelligent, your heart is strong, your bloodline powerful and ancient. I think, now, that I should have killed you when you first came to this tent.’

  ‘You could still do it,’ Ceri said. ‘Now, before the ritual.’

  He shook his huge, wolfen head. ‘Not now. Then it would have been easy, but now… We will see this through together, however it ends.’ He raised the flagon he was drinking from and reached across the table toward Ceri. ‘Deal?’

  Ceri raised her glass, clinking it against the dented metal cup Remus held in his thick digits. ‘Deal,’ she said, ‘we see it through, no matter what happens.’

  ~~~

  ‘I can’t wear this,’ Ceri said.

  ‘Your clothes are ruined, Ceridwyn,’ Remus replied, ‘and you have to wear something.’

  ‘I’ll freeze to death.’

  ‘Nonsense, togas were worn in the harshest of conditions.’

  Ceri held the garment up. Twill wore something similar when there were guests at High Towers. It had a single shoulder and if it came down to mid-thigh she would be lucky. ‘This isn’t a toga,’ she said, ‘this is someone’s slightly dubious idea of a toga.’