Trafficking in Demons

by Michael Angel

  “But I didn’t just ‘end up there’.” I fixed each of the lords with my gaze as I continued to speak. “I was placed there by King Fitzwilliam for a reason. Because under your laws, only the Head of a Knightly Order can vote for the next king or regent. That’s why Commander Yervan has had to hold off men from each of your demesnes. You four believe that you’re deadlocked, two to two.”

  Lord Ghaznavi raised an eyebrow. “And how does your book change that basic math?”

  “Because it sets down the rules for my Order. Rules that have been in play since the time of King Julian the Conqueror.” My voice rang as I recited the relevant line. “In the absence of any elected or appointed officers in the Order of the Weasel, the senior member automatically becomes the Head of the Order.” And that would be me.”

  Thunderstruck silence enveloped the room. I walked up the steps to the throne and stood next to it. Then I laid my hand to cover the gash that had been put in it by the last attempt on Fitzwilliam’s life.

  “Here’s how this is going to work,” I concluded. “I’m going to tell you who’s ruling Andeluvia until Fitzwilliam comes back.”

  And I told them.

  Chapter Forty

  I looked each of the feuding lords right in the eye as I said, “I’m going to tell you who’s ruling Andeluvia until Fitzwilliam comes back.”

  So I told them.

  They looked at me like I was crazy. Seriously crazy.

  Lord Ivor coughed into his fist, probably more from what I’d said rather than his sickness. He tried to speak again and managed it this time.

  “But…” he rasped. “Magnus Killsheven? The ruler of the centaurs?”

  “Are you insane?” Lord Behnaz demanded. “That’s the same centaur who murdered the Good King Benedict!”

  “You would know,” Sir Ivor said flatly. Behnaz glared back at him. “He committed that crime with both your knowledge and refusal to do anything about it.”

  Galen cleared his throat as he added his own two cents. “While I am not initially opposed to the idea, I am curious as to its merits, Dame Chrissie.”

  “I too would like to hear your argument,” Lord Ghaznavi put in.

  “Fine,” I said, feeling a surge of gratitude for Ghaznavi’s bit of support. “There are four things that King Magnus has going for him that make him the perfect choice for Regent. First off, we know that he is a creature of his word. He fulfilled every bit of the agreement I struck with him when I released him from the dungeon to fight at the Oxine River. The centaurs have been at peace with us ever since. Second, we know that he can do the job. He successfully ran this kingdom for several weeks in Duke Kajari’s guise.”

  Lord Behnaz snorted at this, but he did not interrupt me as I continued.

  “Third, he has the rather obvious advantage of not being Lord Behnaz, Ivor, Alvey, or Ghaznavi.” The men at the tables chuckled grimly at this, and I waited until they were quiet again before I went on. “That was not said in jest, gentlemen. Magnus is not from the Eastern Reach, nor the Western Reach. He will not play favorites based on his birthplace. Ask yourself: would you rather have a neutral outsider running the kingdom, or your most determined opponent?”

  “You make disturbingly good points,” Lord Ivor grumbled. “What is your fourth argument for Regent Magnus?”

  “It’s simple. We can be assured that Magnus will give power back to Fitzwilliam when the true King returns.”

  “How can you be so sure?”

  “Because he doesn’t want the job. If he did, he’d have made sure that Fitzwilliam never returned alive to take up his father’s mantle. His one ambition in life was always to become king of his own people.”

  “That much is certain,” Galen agreed. “He would view this task as an annoyance to be rid of as soon as possible.”

  The four lords sat quiet for a moment, as if reviewing their thoughts. Finally, Lord Alvey sputtered to life, spitting his words out like wyvern venom.

  “Bringing in a horse-faced monster to run our kingdom? This is unheard of!”

  Galen gave the man a frosty look. I spread my hands. “Well, Lord Alvey, it’s being heard now.”

  “Don’t tell me that you are listening to this madness?” he cried, looking around at his fellow noblemen. “How can you forgive this…this ‘Magnus’ for murdering our King?”

  “Our former King,” Lord Ivor pointed out. “And the son of that man, our current King, has forgiven him for that act. Since he is our liege lord, we must follow suit and forgive Magnus’ crimes as well.”

  “Madness! Insanity!” Spittle flew from Alvey’s mouth. “How do you know that this ‘Magnus’ will even accept the position of Regent?”

  “He will,” I assured the room. “You can trust me on that. I’ll personally make sure he accepts.”

  Lord Ghaznavi looked awestruck. “Do you really have that kind of power?”

  “I really do. Remember, you said yourself that I have the most potent magic that you’ve ever seen. Think of this as my very own brand of sorcery.”

  After a moment, Ghaznavi stood and addressed his fellow nobles. “After the battle at the Oxine, I have changed my mind about the centaurs as well as Dame Chrissie. Both are formidable, and I am grateful that they are our allies, instead of our foes.”

  “Keep speaking, and I will make you regret it,” Lord Behnaz said sharply.

  Ghaznavi ignored him. Instead, he looked to me. “As the Head of the Order of the Golden Spear, I vote to install Magnus Killsheven as our Regent, until King Fitzwilliam is well enough to return to power.”

  The sound of another chair being pushed back echoed through the still air. Lord Ivor finally stood, helped to his feet by his son.

  “I mean no disrespect to our Court Wizard,” he stated formally, to which Galen returned a nod of acknowledgement. “But I for one do not trust the centaurs as much as Ghaznavi. However, I do trust Dame Chrissie. She saved my life at a time when she had received nothing from me but the back of my hand. As the Head of the Order of the Widow’s Moon, I too vote to install Magnus Killsheven as our Regent, until King Fitzwilliam’s return.”

  That was all I needed.

  “Then as the Head of the Order of the Weasel,” I stated, “I hereby vote to install Magnus Killsheven as our Regent, until King Fitzwilliam is well enough to return.”

  Silence settled across the room. I put one hand on the table to keep from swaying on my feet. I felt positively heady with exhilaration. Just like that, I’d broken the deadlock.

  “Oh, for pity’s sake!” Lord Behnaz cursed. “I shall never fully trust centaurs. But I failed to stand up for the line of Benedict once already. I shan’t make that mistake again. As the Head of the Order of the Silver Spur, I cast my vote to install Magnus Killsheven as our Regent, before I come to my senses, and until His Majesty returns!”

  Lord Alvey shook his head firmly side to side. “As the Head of the Order of the Falcon, I vote nay, no, never! You’ve all left your senses!”

  Alvey heaved himself to his feet. Lord Ivor reached out to him, but the man pulled away sharply.

  “Leave me be, you addlepate!” he snapped.

  Lord Ivor frowned. “I may be ill, but I am still the highest ranking lord in the Eastern Reach, Alvey. Watch your tongue.”

  “And you watch your back!” Alvey stamped off, followed by his son, Sir Kagin.

  “Since a decision has been reached,” Commander Yervan announced, “I declare this emergency council adjourned. I require each of you to withdraw your men from this palace within the hour. Malingerers shall be thrown in the dungeon.”

  Yervan waited next to me and watched carefully as the remaining three lords and their men left. Then he bowed respectfully to me and followed suit. Only Galen remained at my side in the vast empty room. The Wizard had a meditative look.

  “A crown for your thoughts,” I said to him. Galen smiled as he looked at me.

  “I was contemplating something that King Magnus told me quite recently,”
he admitted. “It was something about you.”

  “Oh? What was that?”

  “When you released him from stasis and made him the offer for his freedom, he said: You are definitely not the woman I knew when you first came to Andeluvia. I suppose that I must agree with that assessment.”

  Now I smiled. “Why, thank you. I shall take that as a compliment, my wizardly friend. And now I must ask you for two favors.”

  “I believe that I can guess one of them,” he said, with an amused flick of his equine tail. “Unlike the lords here, I know of the boon that Magnus extended to you. You knew going in that he would have to take the job of Regent if you offered it. Otherwise, he cannot maintain honor among my people.”

  “Well, he did say that he would give me ‘any assistance required’, so long as I didn’t ask for an overturning of my banishment.”

  “True,” Galen allowed, as he searched in his pockets and came up with a scroll of parchment. “Therefore, my guess is that you need me to write and transport a summons to notify Magnus of his new part-time job.”

  “He’ll have to appoint someone to manage the affairs of the Centaur Realm for a few days or weeks. He could very well appoint you to the job.”

  “I hope not!” The Wizard shot me a suspicious look. “Unless…was that your second request? To have me take up my father’s job until Fitzwilliam returns?”

  “No, I’m not that cruel. Besides, I don’t think I can wrangle the authority to do that.”

  The Wizard let out a snort of his own. “I’m starting to wonder if there are any limits to your ingenuity, Dayna.”

  “Besides, my second request is also going to require the help of a fayleene and a griffin. Because it’s potentially a lot more dangerous than playing Regent.”

  Galen’s smile went away as he got serious again. “What do you have in mind?”

  “As soon as we’re done contacting Magnus,” I said firmly, “then we’re returning to my world tonight. Because we’re going to find out who murdered Mose Wainwright.”

  Chapter Forty-One

  Every inch of Galen’s special rollaway blackboard had been filled. Notes, hunches, clues and pieces of prophecy that I hadn’t put together yet all competed for space. But it did have a quality shared by other boards which came in handy.

  It had a back side you could also write on.

  Once I got the board flipped around and shed my cloak, I did a rough diagram of the Wainwright house and its grounds. Liam had folded his legs comfortably underneath his body as he watched me do my second grade level art. Shaw, on the other hand, paced back and forth like a caged lion. Meanwhile, a comfortably warm night breeze blew in through the window, ruffling my hair as I stepped aside to view my work.

  The heavy oak doors to the tower room creaked open as Galen entered. He looked relieved, as if a heavy weight had fallen from his shoulders. The wizard handed me a scroll of fresh parchment as he spoke.

  “It is done,” the Wizard announced. “King Magnus has agreed to step into the role of Regent. He has asked for my assistance tomorrow afternoon in setting up an interim government. And to trounce any would-be contenders for the centaur throne.”

  “Sounds like he may ask you to run things for a while,” I observed.

  “If so, may the task be short-lived!” Galen said, with a shudder. “I have informed the Royal Guard that Magnus will be arriving within the next couple of days. The news was well received by Commander Yervan and his company.”

  I let out a breath. That was one powder keg that had been defused, at least temporarily. In the meantime, I had my own fish to fry.

  “I see that you have brought a ‘spare’ firearm and holster,” Galen added. He rummaged in one of his saddle bags and pulled out a sad-looking leather sack. The sound of broken pieces of metal clinked from inside. “Yet I wanted to return your original items. Alas, while the holster is salvageable, one of the wyverns either stepped or landed on your weapon. It is in several pieces now.”

  “That’s fine,” I said, as I accepted the bag and put it aside. “Thanks for retrieving it off the tournament field.”

  He shrugged nonchalantly. “It seemed prudent.” The Wizard then seated himself on the carpet next to Liam. Taking a breath, I prepared to lay out my cards on the table for everyone.

  “I want to go over what we’ve found at the Wainwright house,” I began. “I spent a good deal of the Spring Tournament trying to fit the pieces of the puzzle together, and I think I’ve got what one of my professors would have called a ‘beer story’.”

  Shaw halted his pacing and let out deep griffin chuckle. “‘Tis an amusing name, but what doth it mean?”

  “All evidence points to a story that you’re trying to decipher. To events in the past that you’re trying to interpret. A ‘beer story’ is one that uses a fair amount of informed guessing and speculative hunches. It other words, it won’t hold up in court. But you could argue it over a glass of beer.”

  Liam stood and stretched his legs. “Succinct and descriptive as well.”

  I couldn’t help but pace a little as I continued my talk. Somehow it helped me think and articulate what I was trying to say. My right knee gave my little twinges every now and then, but I did my best to ignore it.

  “Let’s start a little ways back,” I said. “Grayson Archer owned that house. When he did, it’s logical to assume that he put up magic wards around it. From what I’ve learned through Galen, this affords you protection from any magically-aware foe. It’s an instinctual thing for any magic-using Andeluvian to do.

  “But then Archer sells the house to Mose Wainwright. Wainwright can’t see them, and there’s no way the man can activate them by accident. There’s no reason for Archer to take down the magical wards, is there? I don’t think he saves energy or anything.”

  Galen nodded. “Correct. Once set up, there is no advantage conferred on disassembling the wards. They do not drain a wizard’s power once placed.”

  “Fast-forward to the day of the murder. Karl Nystrom, the weapons designer that works with Crossbow Consulting, brings Wainwright the prototype Demon, probably to test its capabilities.” I stopped pacing and touched my finger to the side of my diagram. “But three days before the murder, someone puts a path marked in salt down here, at the edge of the property. They do this in a way that would breach the wards. Let’s think about this for a moment. Hypothetically, would Archer do that if he wanted to get to Wainwright?”

  “Absolutely not!” Galen answered. “Wards are attenuated to the creator. Whoever sets up their own magical wards would be able to just walk right through them.”

  “Perhaps that helps us, then,” Liam said, with a flick of his puffball tail. “The only other person we know of in your world who is aware of magical creatures like the Ultari is Damon Harrison. If he is aware of magic, then it stands to reason that he can use it as well.”

  “See, if we accept Liam’s idea, then this starts making sense.” I turned away from the board to address the room. “We know that Archer wasn’t aware of Maxwell Cohen’s murder. In fact, he’s intimated that his control of the man is limited at best. So, let’s say that Harrison wanted the Demon, the weapons system based off Galen’s designs.

  “Harrison and Nystrom are part of Crossbow Consulting. I don’t think it would be too hard for Harrison to find out that Nystrom was working on the Demon. Or for him to find out that Nystrom was bringing it to Archer’s old residence and leaving it with Wainwright.”

  “In truth, if Harrison is conversant with magic, it could be quite easy,” Galen pointed out.

  “But Harrison is also familiar with my world now,” I went on. “If he understands technology as well as magic, he knows that he has to take out two different systems to gain entry into the Wainwright house without detection. He uses the salt to neutralize the wards, and magic to prevent the security cameras from properly recording anything.”

  Shaw stropped his foreclaw against one of the abused area rugs for a moment. “I fol
low thy thought in flight, Dayna. Yet thou hast shown that two men were drinking together before the murder. ‘Tis still a puzzle for me.”

  “That’s been bothering me as well,” I admitted. “But here’s an idea. Let’s say that Harrison knows Wainwright has the Demon in his possession – but he’s not exactly sure where it is on the property. Even using magical scrying, if it were in a locked, hidden location, he might never find it.”

  “Might you be implying that Harrison got Mose Wainwright drunk enough to reveal the weapon’s location?” Galen asked.

  I shook my head. “It’s simpler than that. These two men both worked for Crossbow out of Los Angeles. It’s not the kind of company that has hundreds of people in one location. It’s possible that they knew each other. Once Harrison had finished his preparations, he could have arranged to show up. Just a fellow consultant, stopping by to ‘talk shop’.

  “Wainwright’s passion was firearms testing. Of course he could be talked into showing the Demon off to a friendly visitor in the same line of work! So Wainwright brings the weapon out to show Harrison. He goes off to make a second round of mojitos. And while he does so…Harrison loads the gun and shoots him when he returns.”

  My friends were quiet as they digested my ideas. Liam was the first to speak up after running through my scenario in his mind.

  “It sounds plausible, Dayna,” he said. “But how does this help us? It must assist us in some way, if you needed us to travel with you this night.”

  “I think it helps us understand what we might encounter tonight.”

  “Damon Harrison?”

  “Maybe. I think we’ll find him wherever we find that weapon. And that will be simple.” I had to stop and take a breath before my emotions overran my speech. “I missed it because…Well, because I’ve been taking on this case as if I were alone. I’ve forgotten that I have friends I can rely on to help me.”

  Liam’s green eye sparkled, and he made one of his adorable deer bows to me. “Say what you need, Dayna.”