Free Demon Lord 5: Silver Crown King by Morgan Blayde Page A

to Atlantis and starting him on that road.  Having seen the Old Man as a teenager had been a helluva shock.  It was no wonder he’d taken the job of raising me.  His own future had depended on it.  That also meant that all the times growing up when it seemed he was about to get me killed had been safer than I’d known.  Or he’s just flat out crazy.
    “Caine, you there?”
    “I’m on my way.”
    I retraced my earlier path to the entrance of the Great Hall.  Just beyond, the under the dome, the chandeliers blazed hard white.  The floors were parquet, an intricate design of exotic woods from Africa and Brazil. The walls were etched with the names of every clansman who had ever lived.  Mine was over the door’s archway next to the Old Man’s.  It took a while to reach dead-center of the chamber.  The spot was occupied by Lauphram’s coral throne with its half-shell backrest.  The thing looked like it had been plucked from the throne room of a sunken city.  I guess that was the point.
    I passed the throne on the way to the back of the space.   Another hallway waited.  The checkerboard floor was laid in jade and ivory tiles.  Wall sconces copied the giant mermaid on the roof, but these miniature versions lifted arms to support aqua-blue crystals.  The back passage led to the War Room.  Just outside, my heightened dragon senses identified several of the demon guards the Old Man used most often to attend him.  Imari was there, a smoky, spicy scent like incense. 
    The War Room was circular with numerous plasma screens showing every L.A. territory.  Lauphram’s was color-coded ocean blue.  Blood red indicated vamp strongholds and nightclubs.  Yellow-white marked the areas claimed by magic-users like the cleaning services we used to keep the preternatural community a secret.  Amber marked the shifters’ territories.  I noticed that the spot over in Malibu for William’s house was gone.  That’s a little premature.
    Entering drew all eyes to me.  I nodded toward the Old Man.  “Once this is over, we need to talk.”
    Lauphram’s gaze flicked to Imari, then back to me.  “This new intelligence you’ve sniffed out?”
    “Yes.  I know about my father, what you’ve been keeping from me all these years.  I know about the Village.”
    Imari looked between the Old Man and me, her confusion evident.  “Village?”
    “Later,” the Old Man said.  “This review has waited long enough.”
    Imari tensed.  If her black face were able to pale with fear, I think she would have.  This was her professional life on the line.  While the Old Man and I had been away from the clan house, she’d had responsibility for defending it against the hordes of the Blue Star Priestess.  We’d lost clansmen, taken damage, but hadn’t fallen.  Imari should have taken pride in that.  All battles have casualties.  The problem was she’d taken the deaths and injuries to heart. 
    Not good .  Guilt is a liability in a commander of troops.  It can cause hesitation, second guessing, and paralyze.  The Old Man and I were doing this to help her get past all that. 
    We moved to the far side of the room, to a dais with built-in, magic-enhanced holo capabilities.  Normally, this served as our link to the Council of Lords who managed the other L.A. territories.  The display was now being put to another use.  A lot of research and tweaking had gone into the system so that it could show a play-by-play simulation of the last attack.
    “Start the review,” the Old Man ordered.
    One of the geek-demons seated at his station ran claws over the controls.  The property with buildings was recreated in smaller scale, sculpted in blue light.  Dead center was the Great Hall.  Protective wards were depicted with red-and-black hex signs.  The demon road leading toward the coast was a paler blue than the buildings.
    The enemy had approached the clan house with confidence, doing little to conceal themselves.  They were a