Deathstalker 06 - Deathstalker Legacy

They even remained fairly good-natured in the face of illegal street traders charging twenty credits for a bottle of water or something dubious in a hot dog.
    Lewis Deathstalker strode out proudly at the front of the Parade, his old purple cloak flapping around his Champion's armor. It felt good to be back among his old comrades again, accepted by them and the thronging multitudes. He did his best to keep his ugly face pleasant, and even managed the occasional smile for the media cameras. He kept the pace of the march deliberately slow. It was still early in the day, but already it was more than comfortably warm. Parliament had had a quiet but forceful word in the ear of weather control, to make sure they provided the best and most comfortable conditions for the crowds.
    As a result, it was so warm and balmy, you'd hardly know it was still winter. However, Lewis was already beginning to sweat inside his leather armor, and didn't even want to think about how it must be feeling for the Paragons inside their steel breastplates. So he kept the pace slow, and steady.
    The route Finn Durandal had so carefully planned led the Paragons from the southern boundary all the way across the city to the northern, passing through as many attractive points of interest and tourist attractions as possible, to be sure those watching the Parade on their vidscreens all across the Empire got their money's worth. It was going to be a long walk. Lewis had wisely prepared the night before by working rubbing alcohol into his feet, and pissing into his boots before leaving them to stand overnight (old hunting and tracking tricks), but he just knew that by the end of the day, his and every other Paragon's feet were going to be killing them.
    The cheering and approbation of the crowds was very pleasant, though. Anywhen else, Lewis might have allowed himself to enjoy it. If it hadn't been for the Terror, and the Quest, and Jesamine.
    Finn Durandal was marching right behind Lewis, his new partner, Emma Steel, striding out at his side.
    Finn constantly smiled and waved to the crowds, and they loved him for it. His armor had been buffed and polished until it gleamed like the sun, and his classically handsome face was bright and open and charming. He looked like a young god, tall and brave and true, a splendid presence come down to earth to acknowledge his worshipers. Showing just enough humility so that he wouldn't come across as arrogant, of course. Finn had always been able to judge these things to a tee.
    Emma Steel looked smart and stylish and just a little bit glamorous. Her flat black hair was still pulled back into a strictly functional bun, but her coffee skin and fine bone structure had a grace and warmth that owed nothing to artifice or design. Unlike certain other Paragons she could name. Emma was what she was, which was a refreshing change on Logres. She'd made a good name for herself as a tireless
    thief-taker in her short time in the city, pursuing villains and scumbags with enthusiasm and stubbornness, and the people (mostly) approved of her. They made sure she knew it, shouting her name over and over again. She smiled and nodded, and tried not to let it go to her head, although this was more like the kind of reception she'd always imagined for herself on Logres.
    Finn ignored her as much as possible, intent on charming the crowd. Though Emma couldn't help noticing he spent a surprising amount of time studying the windows and alleyways on either side of them.
    Surely it was far too early for trouble yet? After all, a small army of peacekeeper security was treading the streets ahead of them, checking thoroughly for any sign of Hellfire Club or Shadow Court troublemakers. Emma tried to tell herself Finn was just being paranoid, but couldn't keep from surreptitiously checking the occasional window and alleyway herself. Just to be sure.
    Two streets ahead, the ELFs were waiting. The security people had already passed them by, looking right at the ELFs in their hiding places and seeing nothing. Safely hidden behind telepathic projections, the ELFs sat patiently, waiting for their prey to come to them. They snacked lightly on the fevered emotions of the crowds, but did not feast. Pleasant emotions did not satisfy them. They'd moved into the positions Finn had suggested a full twelve hours in advance, just so they could check out the situation, and make sure the Paragon hadn't arranged any nasty surprises for them. But it was all as he'd