The Scumbags Guide to Enslaving Demon's

It wanted the living routes before the Freehold could call out their counts.

The route vault was located beneath Grand Meridian’s lobby.

Its iron doors were wide open.

Route markers dangled from the ceiling, thousands of thin glass strands connected to the living routes running through the city: routes for food, shelter, water, the frontier, and volunteers. On a normal day, the only sounds down here were the rustling of map paper and people adding to the public counts. Austin Veyron liked to think of it as the sound of the city breathing.

Now the floor was frosted over.

Gray grave residue swirled through the air around him. He could hear the markers on the ceiling beginning to chime as the cold reached them. Every breath he took felt like inhaling shards of ice and ash.

The sovereign echo stood at the central route spindle. Only frost and grave residue remained in its body. It was smaller than before, but the vault made it seem larger. Every public route turned black-white wherever it touched the spindle.

”Your ledger has failed. Your memory has failed,” the echo said. ”Now I will take what you all revere the most: the right to decide together.”

Marcus, Elena, and Nahlia stood at the public boards by the door.

”We will not seal the vault,” Marcus said. ”Our counts will stay public.”

”The echo is feeding another line into the route markers,” Elena said, looking at Austin Veyron. ”If anyone takes control and corrects a route privately, it will go black.”

”We have volunteers working the outposts, the harbor routes, and the northern shelters,” Nahlia said, holding three relays at once. ”They’re reporting problems, not asking for authority.”

Austin Veyron looked at the spindle.

He could feel every route in Grand Meridian. He felt every hungry place: the late wagons, the shelters without heat, the broken water lines, the routes waiting on unclear messages from the frontier. DEVOUR wanted to take the vault and hold the whole route network inside him. It would be so easy. He could keep them all safe.

It was his city. He had sacrificed for it. DEVOUR knew exactly how to speak to his hunger. It didn’t offer him power anymore. It offered him freedom from worrying about anyone else going hungry.

No more waiting on reports. No more trusting other people’s counts. All of Grand Meridian, kept safe by him alone.

Veyra stood next to Austin Veyron.

”Name it.”

”I want the vault.”

”And what would it make?”

”The ruler of every route I’ve helped protect.”

Sable’s crown shard radiated white light against the frost. ”We can protect the network. It doesn’t have to be inside you.”

The echo slammed its hand of frost and grave residue into the route spindle.

Route constructs burst out of the ground.

They looked like hooded keepers made of frost, grave dust, and glass strands, each clutching a sealed map board against its chest.

THE PUBLIC LINE NEEDS ONE GUARDIAN.

A construct lunged at Elena.

Rin’s arrow struck its glass shoulder, but the shards gathered again and sealed the board shut. Orena jabbed her spear into the side of the board and forced it open. A food emergency was displayed on the route.

”The north shelter count is fine,” Nahlia said, listening to her relay. ”It’s trying to force a private seal with a fake shortage.”

Veyra severed the frost hand from the route board. Her shoulder screamed at the movement, but she pushed through it. Marcus grabbed the board and read the real count out loud.

”North shelter has four days’ worth of food. Two days of fuel. Repairs are on their way. No need to seal the route.”

The false emergency faded.

More constructs appeared.

They carried the harbor routes, Lanternfall’s water lines, and the Black Orchard Gate warning. Every one of them was trying to seal a route away from the public eye by turning a real risk into a command.

Tessa and Ceryn moved from public board to public board, checking each report against their Deep Table map copies.

”The harbor routes are just delayed by the storm,” Tessa reported.

”Lanternfall’s water line is repaired,” Ceryn said. ”It’s just going to take longer because of the ward cycle.”

”The Black Orchard Gate is manned by Daria’s hunters. No dead line is being commanded,” Calder added, reading over their shoulders.

Every time someone reported what was really happening, the constructs grew weaker. Their glass strands faded, and their hooded heads hung lower.

Austin Veyron could see what was holding them together.

THE PUBLIC LINE NEEDS ONE GUARDIAN.

It wasn’t about protection. It was about ruling over the public line.

”Target,” Austin Veyron said. ”The public-line single-guardian claim. Not the routes. Not the volunteers. Not the spindle.”

”Witnessed,” Veyra said.

”Witnessed,” Sable said.

Austin Veyron thrust the white root chain into the nearest route construct.

DEVOUR opened. The claim tasted like a route sealed away from the very people it was starving.

THE PUBLIC LINE NEEDS ONE GUARDIAN.

He consumed one.

The construct’s glass shards drifted back up to the route markers above. The other constructs froze, and their boards fell open. Frost still covered the floor of the vault, but the false guardian claim no longer had any hold on the public lines.

The echo hissed.

”You slow down the protection of every route.”

”We report what’s actually happening,” Elena corrected it.

The echo twisted the route spindle harder.

Grave residue spread across the floor, rising into an army of black hands. It was using its dead-command fragment to force every volunteer shift in the city to act as one legion.

THE CITY OBEYS THE LAST WATCH.

”It wants to rule the city like a legion,” Marcus said, staring at the mass of hands.

Hunters from Daria’s watch came through the vault doors, along with Freehold volunteers coming in from the frontier. They didn’t rush in and start fighting. Daria simply asked, ”What line needs protecting?”

”The doors,” Marcus said, pointing to the public boards around the room. ”Make sure they stay open and people know what’s going on. Don’t let anyone take over a route alone.”

The volunteers began doing whatever they could. Some brought water to the relay keepers, who were exhausted from passing along information. Others called out what had changed on the routes. Two grown volunteers worked together on the broken harbor routes while a third wrote the reason on the wall.

The vault grew brighter with every action they took. None of them were life or death. They were just small decisions, each one keeping the dark from spreading any further.

Austin Veyron looked at the hands of grave residue.

THE CITY OBEYS THE LAST WATCH.

The echo wanted the newest emergency order to take control of every line that had come before it.

”Target,” Austin Veyron said. ”The last-watch command claim. Not the city. Not the volunteers. Not the routes themselves.”

”Witnessed,” Veyra said.

”Witnessed,” Sable said.

Austin Veyron drove the root chain into the grave residue covering the floor around the spindle.

DEVOUR opened. The claim tasted like a night watchman who didn’t want the sun to rise.

THE CITY OBEYS THE LAST WATCH.

He consumed last.

The hands of grave residue crumbled to the floor.

The echo let out a piercing scream. The grave residue was ripped from its body and scattered across the floor as plain ash.

Only the frost remained.

Without the grave residue, the echo looked frail. Its black-white form was still edged in frost, but it no longer looked like a conquering force. The spindle rejected it, and its frost spread across the markers overhead.

Nyra raised her heart shard.

”It only has one fragment left,” she said. ”It’s going to need more if it wants to control a city.”

The sovereign echo looked at all the public boards, at the volunteers calling out their counts and the keepers refusing to seal the route markers away.

It didn’t fight back.

The echo fled.

A white route opened above them, heading toward the far north.

THE WHITE MERIDIAN.

The echo passed through it, leaving a trail of frost that melted away as soon as the route closed behind it.

The vault was silent.

No one celebrated.

Elena was still checking on the water lines at Lanternfall. Marcus was going over the report from the harbor routes. Nahlia was talking with Frostmarket about the repairs that needed to be made. The city didn’t need a celebration for what had just happened. It needed to keep the lines open.

Austin Veyron found that he was okay with that. In fact, it felt good knowing that nobody was looking to him to tell them what to do next.

He stared at the empty spindle.

The sovereign echo was down to a single fragment of itself. Frost.

But the White Meridian lay far beyond their current route system.

Tessa pulled out the Deep Table copies. A new white route had appeared to the north of Grand Meridian, leading into nothing but snow.

”It’s heading for another source of cold,” she told Austin Veyron. ”If it finds it, it’ll be able to rebuild itself from a fragment that doesn’t know how to share.”

Veyra looked at Austin Veyron.

”I want to follow it alone,” he said, before she could ask.

”And what would it make?”

”The beginning of another throne.”

Sable’s shard glowed white.

”Then we’ll prepare the route to follow it together.”

Austin Veyron let out a breath of relief. He knew the hunger was still trying to lure him north. But it no longer felt like his decision alone to make.

The White Meridian was waiting beyond the edge of their known routes.