The Scumbags Guide to Enslaving Demon's

Past the gate, an army of the dead waited to be claimed.

The Grave March.

Grave mounds lined the fields as far as anyone could see. Some rose high above the mud, while others had sunk so low they could barely be made out against the dirt. Old demon armor jutted from the ground, rusted plates and broken helms half-swallowed by the earth. Tattered war banners hung over trench lines filled with the dead. Not human dead. Demon dead, their bones far too large and strangely shaped to have belonged to anything that walked on two legs. The smell of rain hung over the Grave March, and beneath it lay the older smell of war, rust and rot that had soaked so deep into the soil it would never wash out.

Daria led the group along the ossuary line, a winding path of flat stone markers set between the mounds.

”Stay on the markers,” she said. ”Some of these mounds are just graves. Others are wards. If we wake the wrong seal, we wake every dead thing in the March.”

Austin Veyron looked out over the grave field.

Thousands of demons were buried there. Horned skulls stuck out of the dirt. Ribs bigger than any man’s curved up from the mud like the frames of half-built houses, and everywhere he looked there were clawed hands and the long, thin bones of wings. DEVOUR sensed all of it as power. He could devour the entire field and become so strong that no echo would ever be able to challenge him.

It was easy to think about. That was what concerned Austin Veyron.

Veyra stood at his side, her left arm hanging slightly away from her body to keep the weight off her injured shoulder.

”Name it.”

”I want the March.”

”And what would it make?”

”A graveyard in my body.”

”Then it’s not the target,” Sable said. The shard of her broken crown glistened, wet in the gray light.

The sovereign echo’s trail led ahead of them through the mud, black and white and pulsing like something alive.

Nyra followed it, holding the heart shard out in front of her. ”It hasn’t woken all the dead yet. It’s looking for something. A command mound.”

Tessa looked over the Deep Table map copy and tapped a spot near its center. ”Right there. The middle ossuary. The map calls it the war-seat.”

”What does that mean?” Ceryn asked.

Daria pointed toward a distant mound shaped like a broken fortress. ”A demon general was buried there. The hunter orders never dug it up. The legion seal beneath it was too dangerous to break.”

A horn blew from the left ridgeline.

Two scouts came running toward the group from the edge of the frontier, and the dead were running behind them.

They weren’t whole bodies. They were clusters of bone held together by black roots, wearing scraps of old demon armor that clattered with every step. Their skull eyes glowed black and white.

THE LEGION OBEYS THE LAST COMMAND.

”Scouts!” Daria called out.

Rin’s arrows struck the dead in the knees, and the first of them crashed to the ground. Orena slammed her spear down and ripped apart a knot of roots just before it could cross the ossuary line. Veyra caught one of the dead by its arm with her right hand and cut through the root running along it.

The scouts reached the ossuary line, gasping for breath.

”It woke the western mounds,” one of them panted. ”The echo’s under the command mound. It has a body.”

More of the dead dragged themselves out of the ground, closing in on the group from every side.

Austin Veyron could see the clause holding them together. The dead weren’t the target. The last command was. Whoever gave the last order would own every body that heard it, forever.

”Target,” Austin Veyron said. ”The legion-obeys-the-last-command clause. Not the dead. Not the mounds. Not the demons buried within.”

”Witnessed,” Veyra said.

”Witnessed,” Sable added.

Austin Veyron pushed the white root chain into the ground.

DEVOUR opened. The clause tasted like a battlefield after a commander’s death, where the orders kept marching without him.

THE LEGION OBEYS THE LAST COMMAND.

He consumed last.

The root lines turned gray.

The dead legion stopped moving.

Their old armor slid off and fell to the ground, and their demon skulls dropped into the mud after it. The scouts stared at the motionless dead, then turned to their captain.

Daria didn’t give them orders.

”Pick your line,” she said. ”Who holds the path? Who helps the wounded? Who knows the western mounds?”

One by one, each scout told Daria which line they would take. Some stayed to hold the ossuary markers. Others would help carry the wounded back to camp. Daria and the remaining scouts would continue toward the command mound with Austin Veyron’s group.

As they approached the war-seat, more of the mounds split open. Demon hands broke through the surface, clawing at the dirt. They weren’t pulling themselves free. They were only reaching, straining toward whatever lay beneath the command mound, like plants turning toward the sun.

The gate to the war-seat stood at the base of the mound. It was made of stone and carved with legion symbols: spears, war banners, and lines of marching soldiers worn nearly smooth by time.

THE WAR-SEAT.

A buried route line glowed along the top of the gate.

The echo was waiting for them inside.

It had built a body out of the dead general’s bones. A set of scale-covered ribs formed its chest, and a horned skull served as its head. Armor plates scavenged from the field covered its shoulders, and it held a broken war banner in one hand like a spear.

”You always destroy the last command,” the echo said. ”But bodies need someone to command them. They need a goal to follow. Hunger needs a general.”

Austin Veyron looked at the general’s body, and he could feel DEVOUR straining toward it. All the power stored in those bones could be his. This was harder to resist than last time, because the echo was right about one thing. The dead needed someone to keep them under control.

”Name it,” Veyra said.

”I want the general’s body.”

”And what would it make?”

”Someone to control the dead.”

”Then it would create exactly what the echo wants,” Sable said coldly.

Austin Veyron sighed. She was right. If he controlled the dead, he would become what the echo wanted: someone to rule them, no matter whose head wore the crown.

Behind the echo, the war-seat revealed itself.

It was a stone chair set into the center of the command mound. Legion seals were embedded in the floor around it, and each one ran to a different part of the Grave March.

The echo stepped closer to the war-seat.

”At dawn, every dead thing resting in this field will rise,” it said. ”Not because I control them. Because they will finally have a purpose.”

The legion seals lit up around the war-seat.

Roots shot out of the ground and formed a ring around it.

ONE GENERAL. ONE LEGION.

Daria’s hunters raised their crossbows.

”No,” Austin Veyron said, stopping them. ”We can’t rush the war-seat. It wants one commander to face another.”

Nyra held the heart shard over one of the legion seals. ”Its body is anchored to the war-seat. If it sits, the command at dawn will happen.”

Tessa laid the map copy out on the ground. ”These seals connect to different mounds. If we can break the command clause without destroying the roots under them, the dead will stay buried.”

Austin Veyron found the clause.

ONE GENERAL. ONE LEGION.

”Target,” he said. ”The one-general command claim. Not the war-seat. Not the mounds. Not the dead.”

”Witnessed,” Veyra said.

”Witnessed,” Sable said.

Austin Veyron walked into the ring of roots around the war-seat.

The general’s body lunged at him.

Veyra blocked it with her sword, steel ringing against the banner spear. Rin shot an arrow into the horned skull, and Orena rammed her spear into the ground and used it to drag the echo away from the war-seat. Daria and her hunters cut the roots around the outer legion seals. They didn’t break the seals. They only kept them from connecting to one another.

Austin Veyron took hold of the war-seat clause.

DEVOUR opened. The claim showed him a legion of demons waiting for someone to control them, someone who could use them to shield Grand Meridian and who would never have to fear them turning on him. The claim tasted like one voice shouting orders across an empty field.

ONE GENERAL. ONE LEGION.

He consumed one.

The legion seals shattered around the war-seat.

The echo screamed as its body began to collapse. Its roots of power were being cut off as the mounds stopped answering the war-seat.

The echo fell backward into the war-seat.

The seat held it for a single moment. Then the source path tore open beneath the mound and dragged the wounded echo down into the ground.

The command mound shook from whatever was happening below.

”It’s heading down,” Daria told her hunters.

Nyra’s heart shard pulsed toward a new black line that had appeared on the map copy.

”It found another source path,” she said.

The command mound broke open beneath the war-seat, revealing a path that led down toward the oldest vault in the Grave March.

”You’ll still need someone to command the dead at dawn,” the echo said as it disappeared down the path.

Austin Veyron watched the dark opening where the echo had vanished beneath the Grave March.

The dawn would come, and he would need to find a way to stop the dead.