A Clash of Demons

by Aleks Canard

  ‘And I’ll give you one in four hours maximum. The situation is more complicated than we first thought.’

  ‘You should try having your own spy network. It does wonders for the attainment of knowledge.’

  ‘As a huntress, I don’t need one. This is just a favour, Nadira. We’ll be on our way to Dark’s Hide before you’ve slipped into your third outfit of the night.’

  ‘Oh, you needn’t bother with coming to Dark’s Hide.’

  ‘Are you coming to us?’

  ‘I’ll send you the coordinates of where I want you to drop off the goods. I also want you to bring Faedra de Morland. I can’t risk her being… free, while she wants my mirrors.’

  Valentine’s brow crinkled at hearing those words. Altayr’s face became stern.

  Trix remained stoic. Unflinching. Kit had remarked on more than one occasion that she would make a spectacular gambler, to which Yvach had said: ‘Have you seen her fight? Fiak going all in on a hand of Faet. The odds against Trix, now that’s a hell of a gamble.’

  ‘Delivering you a person was never part of the deal,’ the machina said.

  ‘The wonderful thing about deals done for me is that they’re all struck verbally and subject to change at any time. I see no reason why you can’t deliver me Faedra. I know she’s in Blor’daeyn. I also know the sorcerer has been tending to her. I won’t harm her if it eases your mind.’

  Nadira’s smile was contradictory. Altayr couldn’t see it, though he didn’t like her tone.

  ‘This had better be the last alteration, Nadira.’

  ‘Quite. As for our change of location, I’ve never been one for heavy lifting, so I’ll have my people waiting for you. They hate being kept waiting nearly as much as me. Don’t dawdle.’

  ‘These mirrors won’t be any good to you. Not unless you plan on selling them. You need magic to activate them, and from what we’ve gathered, you’ll also need extensive ancient zirean knowledge, including their runes.’

  ‘Never you mind about my plans, machina. They’re for none but me to know.’

  ‘Will that be all?’

  ‘All is a term that is far too grand for use. It ought to be retired. Nothing can ever be “all” for there’s so much to be done. But pertaining to this particular instance, yes. You may go. Actually, wait another moment.’

  ‘Make it quick. The more you speak, the longer your mirrors stay with us.’

  ‘Careful, a threat, even one as tawdry as that can be mistaken for aggression. And I can be dangerous when threatened.’

  Valentine nearly lashed out with a comeback. Held his tongue. He and Altayr were listening in on Trix’s conversation through their earpieces.

  ‘Your spies will have told you what I did to the mercenaries who attacked Blor’daeyn last night. As far as you’re concerned, Nadira, I’m the most dangerous person in the galaxy. You know I hate games. Get on with it.’

  ‘My oh my, I wasn’t aware that your Uldarian DNA gave you claws. And yes, I heard about what you did. This is what I’m prepared to do should you disappoint me. I was told, by who it matters not, that you and Renier von Gerdac developed a friendship before the events in Manhattan a few months ago. I only mention it because threatening your other friends would be pointless. It’s as if you only choose your comrades based on how many skulls they can crack per minute.’

  ‘Ren’s in prison, Nadira. Not even you can reach him in there.’

  ‘Then you underestimate my influence. For good measure, and because I’m nothing if not thrifty, I may have my assassins make another stop while they’re visiting Ren. Your friend Andrew Tozier was just married, wasn’t he? To Aetta, his sweetheart. I saw pictures of the wedding. Lovely reception.’

  ‘If you touch either of those three, I’ll personally see your head removed from your body. And I won’t use my sword, Nadira. I’ll use my bare hands.’

  ‘Now there is a threat. It had everything from your deathly thousand yard stare to that low, growling tone that’s indicative of insatiable bloodlust.’

  Hah, Valentine scoffed mentally, if Vega thinks Trix is pissed now, that only proves her ignorance.

  ‘I’ve hired a few freelancers to make sure my plans can be carried out properly. You’ve had a run in with them, if I’m not mistaken. A particularly well supplied group that has no trouble operating with complete weaponised efficiency in spite of the Bastion’s strict laws.’

  ‘The debt collectors who chased Yvach,’ Trix said, thinking out loud more than replying. She hadn’t fought them, but Yvach and Dai told her about them afterwards. Apparently one of them had been better than good at using a sniper rifle. The only reason Dai emerged victorious was due to his spectre abilities. Andy and Aetta wouldn’t stand a chance. Neither would Ren. Not locked up and missing an arm.

  ‘Yes, they do collect debts to pay the bills. I’m thrilled to see you know who they are. It saves me from hyping them up. Very well, now I’ve said what I needed to say. Remember. Be at the coordinates I’ve sent you if you want your friends to survive. And I’ll know if you warn them, dear machina. Don’t test me.’

  Nadira ended the call before Trix could retort.

  ‘Forgive me, Trix,’ Valentine said, ‘but I thought you two were friends.’

  ‘So did I. Whatever these mirrors mean for Nadira is greater than anything else she’s ever wanted.’

  ‘You really think she’d kill your friends and risk incurring your wrath?’ Altayr said.

  ‘I’ve never known her to be so stupid. I’ve also never known her to bluff.’

  ‘What coordinates did she send you?’

  Trix frowned. ‘They’re for Orix.’

  Valentine: ‘Ah, the Saturnine Plane. It should’ve been called the Pit. There’s fuck-all in the whole system.’

  Orix was a peculiar planet in that one night lasted eighteen Earth years. It was mountainous, and had little to show for itself besides mounds of lose scree. Rocks abounded everywhere. Vegetation grew sparsely. The only places it grew in abundance were in cities’ artificial farms. Most recently, Trix had slain a golem for a town that lived near a series of mountain caverns. Really, Orix was just a colony planet without many merits at all.

  And the location Nadira had sent was in the middle of nowhere. The nearest town was roughly 300km away. It was also on the planet-side plunged in darkness. There would be no witnesses. Anything could be waiting for them at Nadira’s specified coordinates.

  ‘We’ll worry about that later,’ Altayr said, quickening his already brisk pace out of the hospital courtyard and up the street. Further north into Blor’daeyn. ‘Right now, we only need to worry about getting Faedra onside. I hope you were only bluffing about handing her over to Nadira. While some of her practices are amoral, they shouldn’t sentence her to Nadira’s torture.’

  ‘Do you want the mirrors for yourself?’ said the machina.

  ‘I beg your pardon.’

  ‘You heard her, Big Red.’

  ‘Why would you ask that of me?’

  ‘They could expedite your research. I need to know if there’ll be a problem at the exchange. If there’s any way for you to end up with the mirrors, and save Faedra, that’s what I’ll act on. But your research isn’t worth my friends.’

  Altayr’s normally considered face looked hurt. ‘I would never do anything that endangered you or anyone for whom you care. I hoped you would show me the same courtesy.’

  ‘But you don’t care about your position in the Conclave should you decide to make off with their property?’ Valentine said. He whistled low. ‘Interesting.’

  ‘I never said that.’

  ‘Omission and admission are equally informative.’

  ‘Though omission is open to interpretation, and for most of us, it is impossible to admit everything. Some detail will always be omitted.’

  ‘Both of you stop arguing. Fuck,’ Trix said.

  The machina’s words silenced not just the argument, but all other conversation as Altayr took them to Faedra.
The sorcerer led the way through increasingly narrower streets until Strife Squad arrived at a stone wall covered in vines similar to those that hung from Xifaw’s trees.

  Altayr rapped his staff in rhythmic succession against seemingly random stones. A slight rumbling followed, like you’d hear during a minor earthquake. The stones separated, revealing a helix staircase illuminated by candlelight. Trix noted that the candles weren’t melted in the slightest. Her medallion vibrated.

  ‘The Conclave’s reaches extend even here, it would seem,’ Valentine said, shoving his beanie into his back pocket.

  ‘This space isn’t the Conclave’s. The mages who advise Blor’daeyn’s Feudal Lords have their headquarters here. The Lodge of Stars also has an outpost of sorts where they have copies of research and sensitive documents.’

  ‘And they just let you walk in?’

  ‘They obliged after what we did for Blor’daeyn. Although, I expect they would’ve allowed me inside simply because I had Faedra de Morland in custody.’

  ‘That sorceress hasn’t done anything wrong besides violate a few laws only mages care about,’ Valentine shrugged. ‘You dabbling in other worlds, her going about raising the dead. There’s no denying that the both of you are venturing into the unknown. Off the edges of the map. And past those edges, there be monsters. I don’t see how what you do is any different to what she does.’

  Altayr answered diplomatically. He knew the author was just surly because of his wounds. They’d actually shared a nice moment of comradery the previous night. At least, Altayr thought so.

  ‘Your research into magic, while enough to lie convincingly, even to navigate various conversational topics pertaining to arcane fundamentals, is too shallow to comprehend the differences between dark magic and my research.’

  Valentine held his tongue, though it was slippery, rabid. Wanting to lash Altayr with the ferocity of nine tails. Trix detested senseless arguing. Unfortunately, Valentine quite liked it. The nihilist in him often surmised that all arguments were pointless in the end, for Death had one humdinger of a retort no matter what you threw at him.

  Strife Squad descended the staircase wordlessly.

  Trix thought she saw Gauthier Nadim in the flickering shadows.

  She could’ve sworn he was laughing.

  3

  The staircase ended as it began: at a stone wall.

  Altayr tapped another pattern. Trix heard something behind the wall grind. Like it was sliding into place. The stones parted. A lush room with high bookshelves, a fireplace and zirean wingback chairs invited the trio inward. Zirean wingbacks were modelled after dragons. Indeed, during early civilisation, before dragons were protected, dragon bone furniture was rather popular on Xardiassant, sometimes being more sought after than a dragon’s treasure horde.

  Now chairs were made in the same style, just not from dragon bones. These were originals. Expertly crafted. Trix felt a burst of envy. Not for the chair, but for the scales that would’ve originally adorned it. If you could get your hands on dragon scale armour, you could effectively stop worrying about pretty much every conventional projectile in the galaxy. They were bulletproof — not just resistant like Trix’s combat vest — and able to withstand incredible plasma barrages without so much as charring.

  Adamant was a bulletproof metal, but unless you were an oni machina, you could forget about wearing it. You’d never be able to move for the immense weight. Dragon scales, however, were no heavier than a bird’s feather. As such, illegal dragon hunts yielded substantial rewards. While it was often unscrupulous mages who organised such events — because all dragon parts were magical, and therefore valuable ingredients in elixirs and scientific endeavours — sometimes foolhardy opportunists decided to have a go.

  Then again, considering a greater dragon was big enough to take down a ship the size of the Fox, foolhardy was an understatement. And if you did kill the dragon, finding someone to craft its scales into armour would be a near impossible task. It was said that only corrachs possessed the metallurgical and biological knowhow to suture them.

  Only a handful of dragon gear had ever been made according to the history books. Where it lay, no one knew. Time caused a great many things to be lost, much to scientists’ chagrin. They thought dragon scales were the future of protective garments, if they could only synthesise them artificially.

  Trix’s draconic thoughts were brought to a halt when Faedra de Morland rose from the seat facing away from Strife Squad. Her previous glamour had been revoked. She wore simple violet clothing. It was loose and flowing, though it was hemmed above the knee so as not to inhibit movement. Her arm where Trix had carved off a slice was thickly bandaged. Her nose had already been reset.

  Faedra’s eyes went wild upon seeing Trix. Her lip quivered. Altayr was by her side before she could do anything.

  ‘It’s alright,’ he said, taking her in his arms. ‘I told you she’s here to help.’ Altayr lacked his previous conviction, though Faedra didn’t seem to notice. He had cared for her once. That made the idea of handing Faedra to Nadira Vega churn his stomach.

  Valentine gave Trix a sidewards glance as if to say, what the fuck are we getting into?

  Trix shrugged. Walked forward.

  ‘Greetings, Faedra.’

  ‘You’re in my nightmares,’ was all the sorceress said before taking a few hesitant steps backward.

  Valentine, tactful as always, decided to open his mouth.

  ‘Strange place for rehabilitation.’

  Trix shot him a look. He read her eyes perfectly. Did you see your hospital room?

  The author continued regardless.

  ‘Sometimes I wonder if you mages are actually researching anything, or if you sit in rooms like this one with the finest djurelian cigars the galaxy has to offer and laugh at those of us whose knowledge is too shallow to warrant any respect.’

  ‘This headquarters has intricacies that I’ll be happy to explain once this is over, poet. But in the interest of placating your inappropriately timed curiosity, the order in which the exterior stones are tapped determines which room is opened. I assure you, our labs are entirely different. And holding Faedra there was no way to convince her that we’re on her side.’

  Valentine’s eyes bored into Faedra de Morland’s. Her doe eyes had held a trickster’s cunning when he’d seen her in the vault. Now they were filled with drifting despair that knocked about aimlessly in fog. The author didn’t care. Faedra had hurt Trix. He hated her for that alone.

  Trix held out a hand to let Altayr know she was alright. The sorcerer retreated a few steps from Faedra. His right hand lingered on her lower back for a moment.

  ‘The only one interested in harming you, Faedra, is Gauthier. He’s playing with your mind. I’m going to stop him.’

  Faedra looked at Altayr. He nodded.

  ‘He told me that you were death. Said that you were going to take everything away from me.’

  ‘Just because he’s persuasive doesn’t mean he’s right. We need your help to stop him.’

  Faedra calmed down. The initial shock of seeing her nightmare subsided. She was wary, though Gauthier had been right when he told Altayr that lies were fragile as butterflies. Altayr’s treatment and Trix’s appearance had dismantled the demonic troubadour’s utterings.

  ‘I wanted Altayr to doublecross you,’ the sorceress said.

  ‘I wanted him to do the same. That no longer matters. To challenge Gauthier, your wishes need to be fulfilled. We already have the mirrors. Now he needs to be freed.’

  ‘Won’t that mean he can bugger off and forget about the third wish altogether?’ Valentine said. He was browsing the bookshelves. Nearly all of them were grimoires of which he’d never heard. The others were historical papers, or scientific properties of various metals, plants, and more.

  ‘No,’ Faedra said before Trix could speak. ‘The wishes are completed upon reaching the terms set forth in his contract. Two can be fulfilled, though their finality is in limbo unti
l the third wish is also granted. Then and only then does the contract terminate.’

  ‘Did he tell you how to free him?’

  ‘To do that I’d have to know who’s imprisoned him.’

  ‘And you have no idea?’

  Faedra brushed her hair away from her face. ‘It’s not any being in this galaxy. Not on this plane of reality.’

  Valentine: ‘Trix, I know this isn’t what you want to hear, but why do we need to stop Gauthier? We have the mirrors. Who cares about that demon? If we’re to believe those legends, he’s been tramping around the galaxy since the beginning of civilisation. And it hasn’t fallen yet.’

  The machina thought about this. The poet was right. There was no reason they couldn’t dupe Faedra out of the mirrors. Although, Altayr would have more than a few scruples about doing so.

  ‘We don’t know how the deals he’s brokered have affected the galaxy, or how future accords will impact the Milky Way. Besides, he’ll come after us if we stop him from getting what he wants.’

  ‘He can’t pursue us directly, but he has other methods,’ Altayr said, remembering his conversation on the crossroads. ‘Only one person can challenge him though, and Trix is obviously our best candidate. If I were prone to exaggeration, I might say the galaxy’s best.’

  Valentine turned to Trix. ‘Beautiful, you know I’d bet on you against God himself. But if you lose…’

  ‘I won’t.’

  ‘Sorry, I’m just not thrilled about the notion of a dear friend taking on a primordial demon who survives, and not only that, lives for, deceitful games. Just because a travelling lunatic in a colourful caravan said Gauthier’s terms have to be fair doesn’t make it so. He was one of Gauthier’s people. “Fair” to them may be impossible for us.’

  ‘When Gauthier spoke to me in the woods, he said that he was bound by the laws of the world when he was engaged in conflict.’

  ‘He also told me he wasn’t a sorcerer,’ said Altayr. ‘Then how do you explain his movement? His illusions? The man is a liar and a cheat, and not even a man at all. His very face is a lie.’