by Amanda Fleet
The villagers might be happy for us to dispose of Ammet, but his wife had still lost her husband. She’d be the one person here hoping we were wrong. I hoped there would be someone to comfort her.
I found my way back to the barn. Faran and Valgan sat on bales of straw facing Ammet, who stared defiantly at them.
“Has he said anything?” I asked. My charm glowed brightly again.
“No.” Faran looked distinctly fed-up.
“Okay. I think lunch will be served soon.”
I checked on Ammet’s fastenings. Faran had cuffed each wrist to solid rings, set in the stone wall. Ammet wouldn’t get free while we went for lunch.
“Any signs of him struggling to keep this form?” I asked as I straightened.
Faran stretched out a kink in his back. “No.”
“Okay. Lunch is in the village hall.”
The three of us left Ammet in the barn and walked through the village. Just as we were about to join Tarn and Leta, an ear-splitting scream tore the air just outside the hall.
5
Faran, Valgan and I sprinted to the hall. About twenty feet away from it stood a Guide – a demon still in wraith form – reaching into a villager’s chest and pulling out a ball of light. Judging from the weak state of the villager, it looked as if the wraith had had a couple of attempts at it already. As the ball of light settled inside the wraith, it shifted from a wispy, transparent form to a solid, evil-looking creature with red eyes. It raised its head towards us and sprinted away. I took off after it, yelling to Faran to follow.
God, the thing was fast. But it only had the strength of one person, and a week ago, running for miles had been easy for me. I ran steadily, keeping the demon in my sights, stealing a glance over my shoulder now and then. The demon reached the outskirts of the village and tacked across the field on my right, following a thin dirt track. Faran had followed me but was already tiring, the distance between us stretching. I remembered with a jolt that only yesterday, Aegyir had been sucking the life out of him, and although the bond was broken and the healer had tried to help, Faran wasn’t back to full strength yet. I should have made Valgan follow me. Too late now.
I tried to log landmarks as I passed them, but they were few and far between. A twisted tree; a gate leading to a field of roan cows. I cursed. It wouldn’t be much use to catch the damned thing but have no idea where I was.
The demon cut left, haring across flat grassland cropped short by sheep. I wasn’t gaining on it, but I wasn’t losing it either. The next time I glanced back, no one was following. Was Faran okay? Had he just run out of steam, or had something happened to him? I didn’t have time to worry – my priority had to be to capture this demon. I had cuffs with me, attached to my belt, and a sword dangled from my hip, but I had no daggers and no vessel – they were in the holdall, back in the village. Maybe if I chased the thing to the next village, there’d be another patrol there.
In the middle distance, thin trails of smoke curled into the sky. Would the demon reach there before reverting to a wraith? My legs burned and by no stretch of the imagination could Guardian boots be described as running shoes, but the thin track through the grass had decent footing, and I was gaining ground. Slowly. By the time I reached the outskirts of the settlement, the demon was semi-transparent again.
“Get everybody inside!” I bellowed as I arrived, only paces behind the wraith-demon.
The villagers scattered like skittles, and I pounded after the wraith. Could I even catch it if it lost all of its energy? Could you cuff a wraith?
Thankfully, I managed to rugby-tackle something, though its weight was less than I anticipated, and I thudded hard on the ground. It just about had a body – cold, weathered skin stretched thin over angular bones – and I wrenched its arms behind its back and snapped the cuffs on it. It was like cuffing twigs. Shit! If it lost so much vitality from me chasing it that it reverted to being a wraith, it would have to kill again before we could dispose of it. Time was very much of the essence, and I had almost none of the right equipment with me.
Villagers’ heads started to poke out of doorways to see what was happening.
“Any other Guardians in this village?” I panted, hauling the wraith-demon to its feet.
They shrank back, shaking their heads. Great. I was going to have to drag it back to the village I’d come from. I tapped my communications button. “Faran?”
“Aeron? Where are you? I couldn’t keep up with you.”
I cast around me. “What’s the name of this village, please?”
“Helvik,” someone said, and I relayed it to Faran.
“Did you catch the demon?”
“Yes. I’ve cuffed it, but the chase used a lot of its energy. I don’t know if it will stay cuffed if it returns to being a wraith. I followed a track here. I’m going to start back down it. Can you and Valgan meet me? Bring everything we need.”
I closed the line and sized up the wraith-demon. To an audience of most of the villagers, who probably couldn’t see the demon, I put my shoulder to the thing’s hip and tipped it so that I had it in a fireman’s carry, then jogged back down the track. The demon screamed and clawed at my back, its nails scrabbling at my jacket, but the leather stopped it from gouging my flesh.
I must have covered over a mile before Faran and Valgan met me, still on the thin dirt track between the two villagers.
“Why are you carrying it?” asked Valgan, sneering.
“If it ends up back as a wraith, we can’t trap it, and I’d rather it didn’t kill someone else.” I let the thing slither off my shoulder and land in the dust. I leaned on my knees, catching my breath. “Please tell me you have the daggers and a vessel.”
Faran stepped forward, handing me the daggers. The wraith-demon contorted on the ground where I’d dumped it, spitting and gurgling, its scrawny form barely more than skin and bone. I waved the two men to make the triad around it, before driving the daggers in. The demon screamed and twisted in the dirt, its skull-like face contorting. I stepped back and let Faran decapitate it with the sword. Its head came off surprisingly easily, and my stomach clenched. Black smoke formed into a ball which Valgan sealed in the vessel. As soon as the vessel began to seal, the carvings on the sides writhed, only stopping when the seal was complete.
“Well done. Thank you, both of you,” I said.
Valgan jammed the vessel in a backpack and handed it to me.
Faran took the bag from me, looking puzzled. “I’ve never seen you run like that.”
“No?” I said. “Well. Every day’s a school day.”
He slung the backpack on, and we walked back to the village. I caught Valgan peeking at me and raised a brow.
“You ran a long way. Neither of us could match you,” he ground out. Was that begrudging admiration in his voice?
“In my life Outside I used to run.”
Wrong thing to say. Valgan scowled, probably being reminded of why I’d been Outside. Any admiration he’d had evaporated into the wind. We finished the walk back to the village in silence. Faran took the vessel up to the room we’d been allocated, then joined me and Valgan for a belated lunch.
Like in the city, meals in the villages were communal. A group of cooks had prepared food for the whole village, and it was served on long trestle tables in a barn-like building – the village hall. Everyone else had finished, but some food had been kept back for us. I was ravenous and tucked into the stew with alacrity. Unlike city meals, there was no stodgy cake and custard to follow, but there was plenty of bread and water. I wasn’t sure Faran was even half-filled by the meal, but he said nothing.
Just as we were finishing up, Ammet’s wife, Elin, arrived, her face drawn and her eyes red. “Why is Ammet still in the barn? He can’t be the demon. You ran after the demon and captured it! Please? Let Ammet go? How can he be the demon when you’ve caught it?”
I sent Valgan on to the barn and drew Elin to one side. “Elin, I understand how you feel, but there are several
demons loose. There may have been more than one in the village. I promise you, if Ammet is innocent, we’ll release him. But he needs to stay in the barn for the moment.”
She didn’t seem convinced, still grumbling and complaining as she left.
“We should check Valgan is okay, and then make our room up,” I said to Faran.
In the barn, Valgan sat on a bale, picking at his nails. Ammet still looked like Ammet, and if it hadn’t been for the fact that my charm glowed vividly whenever I saw him, I’d be wondering if he was actually a demon.
“Watch him for a few more minutes, Valgan,” I said. “We’ll be back soon.”
Faran and I made our way to our room, and I was glad to see that someone had left a pile of bedding for us. I plonked the thick woollen blankets on the floor in the corner and tossed the sheet to Faran. Who looked completely blank.
“Don’t tell me you’ve never made a bed in your life?”
“Um.”
I rolled my eyes and showed him how to do the corners, then threw him a cover for the pillow.
Faran eyed the bed as he stuffed the pillow into the case. “It’s very small.”
The bed was about the same size as a single bed Outside, both in width and length.
“It’s all they have,” I said. “And anyway, I always sleep in the same bit as you.”
“Oh, I’m not worried about that. I’m worried about the length.”
Faran clocked in at six foot eight in bare feet. Half of his legs would be hanging out of the bottom of the bed. I wasn’t sure the blankets would cover both of us either.
“We’ll manage. Do you think Valgan knows how to make a bed?”
Faran snorted. “No. Why would he, any more than I do?”
I laughed. “Okay. You go and keep him company. I’ll be nice and make his bed for him.”
The scornful look Faran gave me told me exactly how much he thought I should be nice to Valgan.
I made up Valgan’s bed and joined them in the barn. Just as I arrived, I thought I saw Ammet flicker. I crouched in front of him, out of arm’s reach and watched. He glared silently, but his strength was fading and he was clearly struggling to shape-shift consistently.
“Faran? Valgan? Come over here and tell me what you see?”
They joined me. Ammet shifted in and out of focus, flicking between red-eyed, cadaverous demon and Ammet. Both Faran and Valgan saw it.
“Okay,” I said. “Get the daggers and the vessel. And bring his family here. Just the adults.”
“Why are you bringing his family?” Valgan asked as he straightened.
“Because at the moment, his wife is convinced that this is her husband. I’d rather not stick daggers in him and cut his head off while she still thinks that.”
The demon squirmed violently at my words, but the cuffs held him firm. Ammet’s brother and Elin were fetched, as was Tarn.
“Are you going to free him?” asked Elin, rushing forwards.
Faran held her back, out of reach of the demon. “We need you to look at him and tell us what you see.”
The demon maintained Ammet’s shape for some minutes and Elin frowned. “I see my husband!”
“Keep watching,” I said.
Ammet’s brother approached, leaving Tarn at the back of the barn. It didn’t take long before the demon flickered, morphing from Ammet to demon and back, in an instant.
Elin screamed, stepping back sharply. “What have you done to him?”
“We haven’t done anything.” Faran’s voice was soft.
The demon blurred and shifted again, finally unable to keep up the pretence of being Ammet. Leathery skin stretched over thin bones, and his eyes glowed red. He leered forwards, making the chains that fastened him to the wall clink. The brother came forwards and cradled Elin. “Elin, you have to let them do what they’re here for. This isn’t my brother.”
“Elin, I’m sorry.” I moved forwards. “We do need to deal with this demon, but you don’t have to watch.”
She jutted her chin up, her lip trembling. “No, I want to see it. I need to know that’s not Ammet.”
Faran ushered all three villagers out of harm’s way. I sorted the daggers out and handed Valgan the vessel. “Still happy with the same roles?”
Faran returned, unsheathing his sword. “Yes.”
Valgan nodded. I checked the villagers were safe at the far end of the barn, and we made a triangle around the demon. Its face contorted as it hissed and snarled. I crouched and pushed the first dagger home, turning my face to avoid the spit. Having to position my body to keep my face away from the demon made it hard to get the second dagger in. I almost didn’t manage. Faran leaned over and thumped the demon, almost breaking its neck as its head snapped backwards, and I drove the dagger home, muttering a thanks. The final dagger slid in easily, piercing the abdomen. I sat back on my heels and Faran neatly decapitated the demon who turned into a ball of smoke. The cuffs that had bound the demon clattered to the floor. Valgan sealed the smoke in the vessel, and we all stood.
“Two down. Twelve to go. Good work. Thank you, both of you.” I retrieved the daggers and the cuffs.
Tarn looked shaken, his face pale and drawn. Elin sobbed at the far end of the barn, Ammet’s brother comforting her. Faran picked up the vessel while I walked over to her.
“Elin, I’m so sorry, but I think that the demon was able to mimic your husband because your husband is dead.”
“Where’s his body?” she wailed.
I squeezed her arm, wishing I had more comfort for her. “I don’t know. But you should prepare yourself. I’m sorry.”
We nodded to Tarn and left the barn. Faran and I took the vessel up to our room and Faran stashed it with the other one.
I sat on the bed staring at the vessels. “Are they secure up here? There’s no lock on the door. I don’t want to have to do all of this again because someone breaks the vessels.”
“Tarn said he’d put a watchman on the building.” Faran sat next to me, making the bed dip alarmingly. “You did well today. Better than I would have done had I been captain.”
“Not sure that’s entirely true, but thank you anyway. I need to write a report before dinner. Give me a hand?”
I fetched the paper, ink and seal from my bag and sat at the narrow desk under the window. I rolled my neck. Writing runes was tedious. Needing to use a dip-pen to do it was even more tedious. I eyed Faran hopefully, but he laughed and shook his head. “Uh-uh. Your role. You’re captain.”
Reluctantly, I wrote my report while Faran stood behind me, massaging my neck and reading over my shoulder.
“That’s not exactly what happened,” he murmured. “The phrase ‘After discussion with Faran’ implies that you asked for my advice. Which you didn’t.”
I sighed. “Faran, do you want to be Elected Successor again?”
“You know I do.”
“Then let me try to be helpful in these reports.” I leaned back in my seat and tipped my head up so that I could see his face. “I have no ambition to be Elected Successor. And even if I did, I wouldn’t get elected. No one would vote for me because I’d be expected to be having your babies at some point during the five-year term, right?”
He acknowledged the point with a tilt of his head. “But you’re making light of your actions and emphasising mine.”
“Yeah, well, it’s my report. Suck it up. By the way, how bad is my writing?”
He laughed. “As awful as it always was.”
“No worse?”
“Not especially. But it was never very good.”
“Hm. Can you rub my shoulders, please? I’m sore.”
He did, letting me finish my report without further comment. Done, I rummaged in the drawer to find some matches, lit the stump of a candle on the desk and melted some wax on to the letter. Just about managing to get the seal straight, I pressed it into the hot wax, then turned the report over and addressed it to Lord Sondan. A messenger would take all post from the village, at the
end of the day.
The sun dipped towards the horizon, and I looked up at Faran.
“It’ll be dinner soon.” I stood and caught his cheek in my palm, drawing his face down so that I could kiss him. “Are we hunting more demons this evening, or will we have to socialise with Tarn and Leta?”
“Socialise. Unless your charm glows again.”
***
Dinner was similar to lunch – some meat and a selection of vegetables – though there was also a pudding, much to Faran’s delight. I didn’t think the cooks in the provinces were used to catering for someone of Faran’s size. It took a lot of calories to fill him. Thankfully, there was enough bread available for him to eat almost an entire loaf by himself. Over dinner with Tarn and Leta, we discussed the day’s events, and when I looked around the hall, I was relieved to find the expressions on some of the villagers’ faces had softened towards us. Some. But not all.
When dinner finished, I expected we would have to spend the evening with Tarn and Leta, but they didn’t make any overtures to us. Faran and I wandered back towards our digs. The villagers had all returned to their houses and quietness cloaked the streets.
I tipped my head up to Faran. “What do you want to do? I don’t fancy just sitting in our room all evening. And I don’t want to spend any time with Valgan.”
He snorted. “Me neither. Did you want to sit out? I know how much you crave fresh air all the time.”
Above us, stars emerged from inky blue-black. “I would love to, but maybe we need a blanket. It’s going to be chilly tonight.”
“Okay. Go and sit at the end of the last building? I’ll get a blanket from our room.”
I made my way back towards the other end of the village while he fetched a blanket. As I passed the end of one of the houses, arms grabbed me from behind. A hand slid over my mouth stifling my scream. My heart thudded hard. My assailant was as tall as me, which meant it could only be one person. Valgan.
He yanked me backwards, almost off my feet. “Time for you to learn a lesson, captain.”