A Clash of Demons

by Aleks Canard

  ‘Going to give me more jewellery?’

  ‘I dare say a ring, medallion, and choker is enough trim. I was thinking about your weapons. If you put them on, I’m sure I can work a concealment charm around them.’

  Trix had forgotten about arming herself when Nadira Vega called.

  ‘I don’t think I’ll take them.’

  Altayr looked visibly shocked. Rarely anything upset his composed demeanour. It made Trix laugh.

  ‘I would ask if you’d fallen, though I know you’re incapable of such clumsiness.’

  ‘Maybe if this wedding was taking place on Dark’s Hide, I wouldn’t be so cavalier, but the chances of us being attacked on the Bastion are slim. Besides, I don’t need my weapons to kill.’

  ‘This night, your looks could do that for you,’ Altayr said, planting his staff on the ship’s floor. ‘Should you change your mind, we can teleport back here at any time.’

  ‘Not taking your cane with you, old man?’

  ‘As you don’t need your weapons to kill, I don’t need my staff to cast spells.’

  ‘Overcompensating then?’

  ‘I’ve never had any complaints.’

  ‘Inducing orgasms through magic doesn’t count.’

  ‘If it walks like a duck…’

  ‘The only place we’re walking is to the square,’ Trix said.

  Altayr allowed her to walk first. They exited the Fox together. Sif locked the ship. When they were back in the private elevator, which reminded Trix of Hariyfir’s transit systems only more luxurious, Altayr poured wine. Trix had a glass as well this time.

  ‘How was the Conclave?’

  ‘More of the same. We talked a lot. Argued even more. It’s a wonder we don’t kill each other. If the chambers we held court in didn’t disable magic, we probably would.’

  ‘Sounds eventful.’

  ‘It always is when magic is involved. Apparently Iglessia Vialle is ignoring council from the Lodge of Stars while the corrachs on Raursioc continue disregarding their finest warlocks.’

  ‘If you mages love politics so much, why not use your powers to be in charge?’

  ‘That would not only be loathsome, but entirely too attention seeking.’

  ‘I’ve seen what most sorceresses wear to formal occasions. Sheer tops with their tits out for the world to see. They don’t seem the least bit worried about attention.’

  ‘Quite right,’ Altayr said, giving a devilish grin as his mind forayed into memories. ‘But they dress like that in order to outdo each other. There are fewer measures of a mage’s skill than how beautifully they age.’

  ‘That’s because your vanity is the only thing larger than your egos.’

  ‘Perhaps you’re right. But our vanity serves a purpose. For, if you are, to put it delicately, not blessed with features deemed to be attractive, then when people speak to you they are more receptive to everything else that is happening. I’m sure this isn’t done intentionally, but the eyes are greedy. Constantly looking for beauty. Scouring like a corrach hunts for rare metal, or a djurel for precious objects. Whereas if you present yourself as beautiful to the point where none can take their eyes off you, then you needn’t make them watch one hand while another does the magic. Both are free to cast as they please.’

  Altayr emptied his wine glass. In the company of nobles this would be thought of as incorrigible behaviour. He was free to loosen up in private. Trix ran her free hand through her hair then played with her medallion. She slipped it between her breasts. Wearing a skull to a wedding wasn’t tasteful.

  ‘And, to answer your previous question, we don’t take positions of power for ourselves, because that makes us targets. King, Queens, politicians, someone is always out to assassinate them, or at the very least, plotting to. Besides, royals can be succeeded. Politicians can be voted out. Whereas advisors,’ Altayr leaned back in his plush chair, ‘we remain indefinitely.’

  ‘Whispers behind closed doors hold more power than declarations from palace balconies.’

  ‘Theroux?’ Altayr said.

  ‘One of my own.’

  ‘You’re certainly right.’

  The elevator stopped. The sorcerer and the machina entered a private lobby which opened onto the Bastion Square. Trix could see the police station where she’d been interrogated by an officer named Banks a few months ago. They were headed towards one of the parks, where the wedding guests were to be transported to the ceremony’s location. Trix didn’t know how Andy had afforded everything. His salary wasn’t excessive. Neither was Aetta’s.

  Trix linked arms with Altayr. They strode gracefully under the afternoon sun, garnering countless looks of admiration from passers-by. And, Trix noted, a few jealous ones. As they approached the park, which contained ponds full of native Hariyfir coral, and purple Xardiassian grass, Trix saw Andy greeting people as they stepped into Vertex cruisers. Andy’s ginger hair was parted impeccably. It was probably the first time it’d ever been combed. He was clean shaven, wearing a black tuxedo with peak lapels to offset his slightly rounded features.

  As Trix came closer, Andy caught her eye. His eyebrows raised and jaw dropped all at once. He promptly forgot about the conversation he’d been having and made his way towards Trix at a brisk walk. He didn’t want to run or he’d sweat through his shirt.

  ‘Trix, I almost didn’t believe it when I got your RSVP. Look at you, holy shit. I mean, you always look good, but this is something else.’

  ‘Greetings Andy, and thank you,’ Trix said.

  ‘And, fuck me,’ Andy said, turning his gaze to Altayr, ‘you’re Altayr Van Eldric, the Red!’

  ‘Hello, Andy, it’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance. Forgive me, I was unsure if Trix’s invitation warranted a plus one. I understand if you’re unable to accommodate me at late notice.’

  ‘Of course Trix has a plus one, she could’ve had a plus twenty for all I cared. Aetta might’ve minded a little, but I’m sure I could’ve talked her around.’

  ‘Whoa, slow down. Don’t go giving yourself a heart attack just yet,’ Trix said, smiling easier than she had since spending time with the Oni Three and Griff.

  ‘Sorry, and sorry for the swearing, but I’m getting married today,’ Andy shouted so the whole Bastion could hear. A couple of people sitting in a nearby café whistled and saluted him.

  ‘I know this might be a little forward, seeing as we only just met,’ Andy reached into his jacket pocket, ‘but could you sign this?’

  Andy was holding a Faet card in his hand. It had Altayr on it.

  ‘You carry that around with you all the time?’ Trix said.

  ‘I was given it today as a wedding present, and you know how cool I think magic is. I’m hoping if Aetta and I have kids that they have a little talent in their blood. I got appraised once, but apparently I’m as magical as a post.’

  Faet was a strategy card game invented by zireans, which was adapted, tweaked, and played by every race in the galaxy. Two players used cards representing opposing forces to duke it out. These forces contained real life military and political figures. To be immortalised on a Faet card was considered an honour, owing to each one’s artistic magnificence.

  ‘Of course, Andy,’ Altayr said. He waved his hand over the card. His signature appeared thusly.

  ‘Damn that’s cool,’ Andy said. ‘Well come on, let’s get the two of you into a cruiser and up to the ceremony.’

  Andy, sodding all caution and fear of sweating, ran back to the last few arriving wedding guests. He ushered Trix and Altayr into a cruiser then sent it off without delay.

  Trix was struck with déjà vu when she saw where the wedding was to be held. A chill climbed down her spine and ran over her legs. They were headed to a zirean mansion on a hill. It was the same mansion to which the spy, Rasud Sinnad, had taken her. There was a secret elevator in the linen closet that led to an underground base. Rasud’s motives were mysterious. He had played a part in Iglessia Vialle’s kidnapping, and her rescue. None of
it made any sense. Trix had been suspicious of him from their first meeting.

  ‘What’s the matter?’ Altayr said.

  ‘Rasud Sinnad. Does that name mean anything to you?’

  ‘Should it?’

  ‘He’s a zirean spy. When we met, he told me that he worked for the Vialle family. But we discovered he had played them. When he freed me, Yvach, and Dai of Thyria from prison, he brought us here.’

  ‘If someone as devious as you purport them to be was operating at a level like that, the Conclave would know about it.’

  ‘Clearly not.’

  ‘You do know what this mansion is, don’t you? It’s a hotel. I assume Andy has hired the venue and the staff for his wedding.’

  ‘It can’t be a hotel. It was empty when I went inside. There was a secret elevator in the linen closet for fuck’s sake.’

  ‘I would never doubt what you saw, but I can assure you, this place is a hotel.’

  The Vertex Cruiser set down. Trix stepped out. So did Altayr.

  Guests were making their way through the mansion’s foyer and into the sprawling private garden at the back. Bellhops waited by the entrance. It appeared the hotel was still running. Business as usual. Minus all the people, it looked exactly as Trix remembered.

  She walked to the closet Rasud Sinnad had used as elevator. Trix opened it. Looked inside. Also just like she remembered.

  ‘Can I help you, ma’am?’ A young bellhop asked. ‘That closet is for staff only.’

  Trix searched for the biometric reader Rasud had used to activate the elevator. Couldn’t find it. Even if she had, her prints wouldn’t have worked.

  ‘I was looking for the bathroom,’ Trix lied.

  ‘Down the hall, to your left. Are you a guest of the hotel?’

  ‘A wedding guest for the Tozier function.’

  ‘The ceremony is about to begin if you’ll make your way to the back lawn. Each guest is entitled to a complimentary glass of champagne, courtesy of the Maello Hotel.’

  ‘Who owns this place?’

  ‘We’re a public trading company on the galactic stock market. There’s no singular owner.’

  ‘Someone must have started it originally, or own the controlling share.’

  ‘Ma’am, if you’d like to know more about the hotel, may I suggest checking our information page on the galactic net. I’m sorry, it’s my first week, and I wasn’t prepped on financial information.’

  ‘Alright,’ Trix said, signalling that the boy could leave her.

  Altayr — who had been making polite small talk with wedding guests — appeared behind her.

  ‘I overheard some of your conversation. Did you find the linen you were looking for?’

  ‘No, but this is the place. I’m sure of it. Find our seats, I’m going to have a look around.’

  ‘Try not to be so late that you follow the bride up the aisle,’ Altayr said as he walked towards the lawn, gladly drinking his complimentary glass of champagne.

  Trix was left to her own devices inside the hotel. She saw Andy coming up the drive. Everything was about to start.

  ‘Shit,’ Trix said, under her breath. ‘Sif, I want you do to a search on the Maello Hotel.’

  ‘Please,’ the AI said. ‘I was on it as soon as the bellhop spoke.’

  ‘Anything yet?’

  ‘Standard business information. The hotel opened when the Bastion was completed. Maello means best in zirean. It’s open to functions for anyone who can afford them but the rooms themselves are only open to a select few. Namely, benefactors who contributed their wealth towards the Bastion’s construction. And yes, I’ve cross-referenced the list for the name Rasud Sinnad, and a picture of his face. If he was a benefactor, he’s not on public record.’

  ‘Hmm,’ Trix said, slipping behind the staircase so Andy didn’t see her. There was no front desk. She walked up to the first staff member she saw, a psygotaic woman holding a drink tray.

  ‘May I help you?’ the psygota said. There was no hatred in her eyes. Only fear. Trix could see the tray was going to fall at any second. She cast a zero-gravity spell around it, causing the glasses to float for a moment. The psygota didn’t notice. She was transfixed by Trix’s golden irises.

  ‘I’d like to know who was staying in this hotel at the start of this Earthen year. You see, I met a man who was a guest and I never got his name.’

  ‘Sorry, ma’am, all guest records are confidential.’

  ‘Apologies for wasting your time.’

  Trix turned away from the staff member. Ended her spell. The clinking of glassware reached her ears. She didn’t hear any shatter. Knowing she had until midnight, Trix headed to the wedding ceremony. Her mood hadn’t soured, but her thoughts were preoccupied.

  Rasud Sinnad, it seemed, was a ghost.

  7

  Vows mere made, and a couple was unified.

  The party splayed out over the lawn, and on the mansion’s second floor, the ballroom’s walls opened as the sky turned to twilight. Music drifted from inside. Couples began dancing with the open bar’s help. When Trix asked Andy and Aetta how they afforded everything, Aetta said Andy had called in the favour that the Bastion Police owed him for his heroism during the terrorist attack a few years prior. The same one where Trix had saved Andy’s life. She’d given Andy all the credit and had slipped away more or less unnoticed.

  Andy blushed as Aetta spoke about his accomplishments. To be fair, he did help to subdue the terrorist threat. Just not as much as the Bastion Police thought. Aetta knew the truth though. That was what really mattered. Andy then raved about how Aetta was the Bastion’s top analyst. Then it was her turn to blush.

  Excusing herself from the festivities, Trix searched the mansion as best she could. Her security clearance didn’t allow her to access private rooms. The search was fruitless, and she returned to Altayr’s side in time for the cake cutting. Speeches were held before the dancing commenced. Andy assured Trix she didn’t have to speak. And she didn’t. To her surprise, she was actually having a good time.

  Once the formalities were done, Trix grabbed Altayr’s hand.

  ‘What are you doing?’

  ‘We’re going to dance.’

  Altayr flashed a devastatingly handsome smile. He put one hand low around Trix’s waist and swept her off her feet, into the ballroom’s centre. He thought about flying them over the floor, but such an ostentatious show would detract from the newlyweds. Instead, Altayr kept his feet firmly on the floor.

  ‘What prompted this?’

  ‘I knew you wouldn’t let me leave without at least one dance.’

  ‘The night has barely begun, and I believe you said you’d be staying until the sun rose.’

  ‘I’ve been called into business.’

  ‘No one calls a huntress directly.’

  ‘Nadira Vega does.’

  ‘Dark’s Hide’s newest ruler. That place is foul. You can taste filth in the air. It nestles on the back of your tongue. What does she want with you?’

  ‘I owe her one for bailing me out of a prison sentence.’

  ‘And what does this one entail?’

  ‘She’ll tell me when I get there.’

  ‘Do you have an idea?’

  ‘Knowing Nadira, it could be anything from assassinating one of her competitors, escorting an important client, or extorting information from someone who won’t talk willingly.’

  ‘Seeing as you’re venturing into the unknown, I’d like to offer my assistance.’

  ‘Does Yephus bore you so much that you’d risk dirtying your boots on Dark’s Hide with a machina?’

  ‘Not with a machina, but with a friend.’

  Altayr pulled Trix closer, spun her out, then reeled her back in.

  ‘Worried about me?’

  ‘Only passionately curious.’

  ‘I didn’t think arms dealers’ trivial affairs garnered attention from sorcerers.’

  ‘Any matter involving you can hardly be trivial. Why waste the se
rvices of a Valkyrie to run an errand any mercenary could deliver?’

  ‘You don’t know where Nadira’s favour might take me.’

  ‘Precisely why I would like to come.’

  ‘You can stay on the ship while I’m on Dark’s Hide if you like. I wouldn’t want your boots sullied.’

  ‘I believe that’s a prerequisite for learning anything new.’

  ‘Is this attire of mine so entrancing that I’ve bewitched even you? Not a moment ago you spoke of Dark’s Hide like you wouldn’t set foot on it for a billion orits.’

  ‘You sell yourself short, Trix.’

  ‘And you flatter me too much, Altayr.’

  ‘Here I thought I was being subtle.’

  ‘Your hand is too low for subtlety, sorcerer.’

  ‘Perhaps not low enough for suggestion, machina.’

  ‘No,’ Trix gently guided Altayr’s hand lower, until it was no longer on her back. ‘But that might be.’

  They continued dancing. Despite Altayr using no magic, he and Trix swirled between other couples as effortlessly as professional ice skaters. It seemed that swordsmanship’s footwork lent itself to the ballroom like it did to the battlefield.

  Hearts were broken on both fronts.

  Trix had promised one dance, and ended up staying for many more. Songs blended into the next as seamlessly as the couple’s movements. It was only when Sif reminded Trix of the time that she pulled away.

  ‘Better not keep Nadira waiting.’

  ‘I would be happy to let her,’ Altayr said.

  Trix took Altayr by the hand. ‘Come on, let’s find Andy.’

  The machina wandered out of the ballroom, back onto the lawn. Andy and Aetta were lying on the grass, looking at the stars. His jacket was around her shoulders. Their shoes were off. Aetta’s pastel pink hair reminded Trix of Djiemlur’s waterways.

  ‘Thank you for the invitation, Andy,’ Trix said. ‘I had a lovely time.’

  It was only then Trix noticed that Andy was asleep on Aetta’s shoulder. Aetta struggled to hold in laughter.