The Irin Chronicles Box Set

by T. G. Ayer

  A few minutes passed and a door slammed shut, the heavy boots stamping away and fading to silence. But Castor still sobbed, talking to himself first in whispers and then in low manic growls. He hated the darkness, and from what she could see, the guards wouldn't care to provide him with a candle to help ease his fear.

  Tears filled Evie’s eyes as she tried to decide whether it was best to try to talk to Castor or to leave him be. Letting him know that she was there alongside him in this dungeon may send him into a worse state of despair. To Castor, it would mean there was no salvation, no hope for freedom.

  And Evie didn’t want to take the chance so she kept silent, even when listening to his despair brought hot tears to her eyes.

  Castor’s presence in the dungeon kicked Evie’s anxiety up a notch. She’d heard no one else within the cells along this side of the dungeons, and she had to wonder if only she and Castor had been captured and imprisoned even though he’d appeared not to be involved.

  Was that what Mykia had meant when she said Castor’s claim of knowing nothing had not been believed Wwas throwing the halfling into the dungeons a way to find out what he knew? To incriminate himself?

  And what better way to do so than to eavesdrop on a conversation between the two of them. All the more reason for Evie to remain silent and keep her presence from Castor.

  It was a cruel thing to do but Evie was willing as long as she kept him safe. And now the more she thought about it the more sure she was sure that Ash and Ling had only intended to keep Castor safe. And in so doing had incriminated Evie. She probably needed to thank them when she saw them.

  But, she reminded herself, she wouldn't be able to talk to them, not privately. The SHC would soon send their representative who would be present at every interview Evie and her counsel conducted. The only private conversations would occur between Evie and Barry.

  If he ever came.

  Chapter 14

  As it turned out, Evie didn't have to wait long. A few hours had passed in which no guard appeared to strap her to her chair. And just when Evie felt ready to explode, the sounds of boots on stone hammered their way toward her cell door.

  The door was flung open and a guard entered while a second man waited at the entrance, hand on the hilt of his sword. His threat was clear but he was the same guard who had given her his look of warning before the Shade had attacked.

  Then, as the other guard set a stool on the ground beside the ancient chair, her gargoyle ally met her eyes again. His expression was sad and apologetic, though a hint of a smile curved the corner of his mouth.

  Evie hadn't the foggiest idea how to interpret the man's expression so she simply smiled back and nodded politely, then ignored his confused response. If he wanted to get her a message, he had to do so using a method other than his eyes.

  He'd never make it in the movies, that was for sure.

  Evie stood to the side as the guard stalked out of her cell, disappearing down the hallway. The gargoyle on the threshold paused, "You have a visitor. He will be brought down in a few minutes. Please let us know if you need anything."

  Evie nodded slowly, then raised a finger. "Pen and paper would be good." She smiled and waved at the stool when the guard's eyebrows rose. "For the meeting. We'll need to make notes," she said, keeping her voice as soft as possible so the sound won't travel to Castor.

  He gave a smile, then and backed away to shut the door. It wasn't long before the guards returned, this time three sets of boots rang on the hall floors. The door was flung open, hard enough that it swung wide and slammed into the stone wall behind it.

  The guard responsible for this act of low-key violence turned out to be the very one Evie had believed was helping her. His movements were stiff as he marched over to the chair and dropped a pad of paper and a pen onto the seat before spinning on his heel.

  His black armor clanged, the curving sword rattling, metal against metal singing a staccato song as he hurried out of the room. Then he stood stiffly aside, giving Baar'uk, the Demon Overlord, room to enter the cell.

  Then the door was slammed hard enough to make Evie flinch, and she was certain she'd have a headache soon. She gave Barry an apologetic smile, then ran to him. She threw her arms around his shoulders, ignoring his surprised grunt, even ignoring his sniffling as the dust from her feathers irritated his nostrils.

  "I'm so glad you came." she said softly before letting go of him and standing a foot away,

  Barry twitched his nose and sniffed. "To be honest I had no idea I was meeting you," the demon said, his low rumbling voice all too loud.

  "Who else did you think was asking you here? And Shh," Evie said, grabbing his arm to pull him away from the door. She waved at the chair. "You can sit there. I don't think this milkmaid's stool will hold you."

  The demon stopped in his tracks and turned to glare at Evie, pale eyes drilling into her. "Are you saying I put on weight or something?"

  Evie rolled her eyes and whispered, "Let's just keep the volume down. I don't want anyone to know I'm here and your presence is enough of a giveaway."

  "What are you talking about?" Barry asked, frowning as Evie pointed again at the ancient chair for him to sit in. For a moment his entire body stilled. Then, his voice taught and filled with emotion, Barry asked, "And are you kidding me with the chair?"

  Throwing her hands into the air, Evie asked, "What do you mean?"

  "Do you have any idea what that chair means to us demons?" he asked in a whispery growl that sounded like water running over rocks.

  Eyes narrowed, Evie asked, "No, Barry. Can you please enlighten me? And be quick about it."

  The demon faced Evie, his great bulk, broad shoulders, musclebound torso encased in a long black leather coat which was open in front. He folded his large arms across his chest. "This is the Seat of Iphramit. This chair was used to hold captive at least a X demons whose blood was drained in order to create a relic of incredible danger. I ain't gettin’ anywhere near it. Not even if you kill me."

  Evie let out a slow impatient breath. "Barry, you'll be dead. You won't know a thing."

  "Still," he said, his voice cracking in indignation.

  "Fine," Evie said, throwing her hands in the air again as though pleading to the good lord for patience. "You take the itty-bitty chair. If you flatten it and fall on your ass, don't blame me."

  She walked over to the chair, but though she'd been flippant about his reaction, what he'd told her had been painful to hear. The seat she'd been strapped to had been used to murder demons?

  Who else had been tortured while confined within it? And had that been the intention of Marcellus' minions? To drain Evie’s blood from her body? But she didn't have time to open up more cans of mystery. She had plenty on her table right now.

  Evie faced Barry and paused at the sight of him. Her lips curved and laughter bubbled up from somewhere inside her. She pushed her amusement down, and tried really hard not to smile as the demon balanced precariously on the tiny three-legged stool. He looked like a minotaur trying to sit on a dollhouse chair.

  Barry chose that moment to glance up and the moment he caught sight of her face, he froze. "Don't you dare laugh," he said, raising a finger in warning.

  That was probably the worst thing he could have said, because all his warning did was make Evie want to burst out laughing. She clapped her hand over her mouth, pressing hard to stop the wave of giggles from erupting. That she was able to laugh right now seemed so wrong and, in that second, her laughter died and she sobered.

  Barry must have sensed the change in her mood because he silently shifted his bulk to the side and sank onto the stone floor, sitting cross-legged with his elbows propped on his knees.

  Evie grabbed the pad of paper and the pen from the chair, taking care not to touch the wood, then joined the demon, seating herself in front of him, her face also dead serious.

  "This is bad, isn't it?" Barry asked, his tone sober, all amusement having fled at the change in her mood. His face w
as now bland and it made Evie feel sad that she’d shut the laughter down.

  In their short friendship, Barry had all too often been the source of her amusement, the reason she smiled at the most random moments.

  But there would be time for laughter later on. For now, they had a huge task at hand, Hopefully it won’t be the same as endlessly rolling a boulder uphill, or spending years attempting to fill a leaking pool with water.

  Pen in hand, Evie was about to speak when she spotted a streak of soot marking the side of the first page. She tore off that page and was about to speak when light flickered in her vision. Squinting hard, Evie dipped her head and stared at the paper then gave a low gasp of pain.

  Evie's thumb sizzled as if electric energy passed through it from the paper. Curious she lifted her thumb to check for injuries but found nothing. She wouldn't have been surprised to see that her thumb had been sliced open by an invisible blade.

  But her skin remained whole, not a drop of blood in sight. And the sizzle had faded. Frowning, Evie touched her finger to the paper again, wondering ift the paper itself had burned her skin. Then she felt the buzz beneath her thumb and snatched her finger away, confused and curious. Again her finger proved uninjured, but as she studied the skin, a silvery light shimmered in her peripheral vision.

  Guess the gargoyle guard had managed to figure out a way to get a message to her after all.

  Chapter 15

  “What's wrong?” whispered Barry, leaning forward to study the paper.

  Holding up a finger, Evie scanned the page, reading the message left there for her.

  There is more to what is happening to you than the brotherhood knows. It is too dangerous to have a conversation regarding this but please know we are keeping an eye on your security. For this morning we must apologise and we are most grateful that you survived that attack. Sadly we can only act within the limitations of our means. Let us know if you need any help, or if we should contact anyone on the outside for you.

  Evie blinked a few times at the message, a little unsure of what she was reading. Was she imagining it all? Wishful thinking at play? But when she looked up she met Barry's equally shocked eyes, knowing immediately that he'd seen the message too.

  "You can see it?"

  He nodded. "It's gargoyle ink. Has its roots in angelic blood, hence your ability to read it."

  "And yours," Evie replied dryly.

  Barry simply whispered, "What attack is this person talking about?"

  Evie shrugged. "I was almost killed last night. Some kind of magic spell that turned the air in the cell into water. Almost died." Her tone was nonchalant, which she could be now that she’d survived the ordeal.

  Barry’s jaw dropped. "How did you make it out alive? And who the frick attacked you?"

  Evie flicked her arm, revealing a fragment of the Markings to Barry.

  His reaction was the furthest from her imagination as anything could get. "Holy, holy, holy, holy," he said, scrambling backward like a confused crab. "Oh, man!" Barry whispered, before he shifted his gaze and simply stared at Evie, eyes wider than she had thought possible, even if he was a demon.

  She remained still. "What?" she asked softly, wanting to hear what he thought because his reaction was worrying. No, that was a lie. His reaction was downright scary.

  Barry gulped, his pale skin coloring for a moment with a tinge of red. "You're...I mean, the Marks...." He fell silent, clearly incapable of coherent speech, not to mention thought, his eyes trained on the undulating script on her skin.

  A little annoyed now, and impatient too, Evie peered at his face, glaring at him while she whispered, "Seriously, Barry? How are you supposed to represent me and clear me of murder charges if you can't string two sentences together?"

  Eyes wider now, he pointed a finger at Evie's wrist. "But you're...I'm--" Then the demon overlord stiffened, Hades’ markings suddenly forgotten. "What did you just say about clearing you of murder?"

  Evie took a slow breath, scowling at him. “That’s why you were brought here. Didn't they tell you?”

  Barry shook his head. “Nobody told me anything. There was a knock on my door--and by that I mean they popped into my lounge without even giving me a heads up. I mean what if I hadn’t been wearing pants?”

  Evie’s eyes narrowed. “Were you wearing pants?”

  “Yes, I was, thank goodness.”

  “Good, now carry on,” Evie snapped keeping her voice low.

  Barry swallowed, stared at Evie for a second then said, “Well, they appeared out of nowhere with this summons to meet someone here at the Greylock Estate as a matter of the utmost urgency. Didn’t give me much of a chance to find out anything more, other than there would be dire consequences if I didn’t come immediately.”

  Evie raised her eyebrows. “A bit melodramatic, but not far off from the truth.”

  Barry exhaled loudly through his nostrils. “Evie, can you maybe fill me in on the details that I'm missing. I just got jumped, literally, by a group of scary gargoyles and was brought to the dungeons of the Irin and I’m sitting a few feet from a terrifyingly scary chair.”

  Swallowing hard, not sure if she should laugh or hit the poor scared super powerful Demon Overlord on the head, Evie said, “I came back from Hades, with a couple of problems, which I’ll update you on soon enough. Then someone knocked the lights out of me and I woke up here in this cell, with the fricking Angel Bonds trapping me here, not to mention a murder charge hanging over my head.” Evie raised her wrists to show the leather bands to Barry, then did a half twist to reveal the caged wings at her back. “Now, as problems go, mine trumps yours, other than the chair of course.”

  Barry’s eyes narrowed as he studied Evie. “Who did you off?”

  Evie rolled her eyes wanting to groan, though she knew that groaning would be too loud. “Barry, can you get your head in the game. Things are dire and you’re making fun?”

  He rolled his shoulders, his amusement fading as he forced himself to be serious. “Okay, okay.” He raised his hands in submission. “What are the charges?”

  “I’m being charged with the murder of Marcellus Bactor, Grand Master of the Brotherhood of the Irin.”

  Barry blinked. “Huh? Same dude that sent you guys out to kill demons for no reason other than his stupid greed?”

  Evie bit her lip. “Well, he had his reasons, but yes, same dude.”

  “How did he die?”

  Evie bent closer to him. “I kinda killed him.”

  “What?” Barry hissed. “Evie?!”

  Grinning now, she waved a hand in his face. “He followed me to Hades, threatened to kill Castor, and he admitted to killing Patrick. Then he sicced his guards on me and watched as they attacked. Only problem is, I wasn’t so easy to kill. In the end the fool chased me down the tunnels, probably thinking he was going to kill me, but he took the wrong door.”

  “Wrong door?” Barry’s expression was pure puzzlement.

  Evie nodded. “He entered the wrong cave and ended up chimera chow.”

  “Chimera chow?” Barry repeated, his expression stunned, somewhat amused, mostly confused.”

  Evie huffed. “You’re not making this easy, Barry. But yes, a chimera ate Marcellus and he deserved it.”

  “You do anything to stop him from being eaten?”

  “Of course, I did. I yelled at him to be careful.”

  “That’s it? You try to save him at all?”

  “Not much chance of that. When I reached him...well, let’s just say with a chimera you got fire, and Marcellus, well, he was the steak.”

  “Uh-huh,” Barry replied, his expression devoid of emotion.

  Chapter 16

  "A lawyer? Evie, I don't really think I'm the best person for the job," Barry was saying as he paced the floor.

  Evie sat on the milkmaid stool, avoiding the ancient chair as much as she could. She could barely stand the thought that she'd been sitting in it for hours already. She contained the urge to shudder and addres
sed the edgy demon overlord. "Barry, it's not like I have anyone else to turn to, Patrick is dead, killed on Marcellus' order mind you. The only other person with the power to help me is in Hades. A bit of a distance to go to get in touch with the guy. So, for now you're my only hope. Unless you think Castor can get me off?" Evie smiled, when Barry chuckled softly.

  They'd spoken in low tones but the whole whispering thing was getting a little tiring. Evie sighed. "Can you power up a silence-shield or something? We can't keep whispering the entire time we discuss the case, but we can't risk being overheard either."

  Barry gave Evie an odd look. "Don't you know how to use your magic?"

  Squinting, Evie shook her head. "I don't have magic. Other than flying and casting my glamor, I didn't inherit any magical abilities from my father."

  The demon snorted. "What in the hell’s bells was Patrick teaching you anyway. He should have had you trained to use your magic to protect yourself."

  Evie stiffened. "Well, maybe he didn't know I had magic. Patrick did the best he could in raising me," she said defensive now, her tone tight.

  Barry let out a soft sigh. "I'm sorry, Evie. I didn't mean to insult the efforts he made. Perhaps the best explanation is that he didn't know about your powers. Or that he didn't know how to train you." Barry offered the alternative reasonings with a self deprecating smile.

  Let out a soft breath, Evie nodded. "Maybe he thought that taking me to be trained would put me in danger. Patrick was always very particular about keeping me safe. To be honest. it was a little suffocating."

  “Now who's speaking ill of the dead?" Barry tilted his head, his stare penetrating now.

  Rolling her eyes, Evie replied tartly, "It's not speaking ill if it’s the truth. He was far too overprotective and he knew it. He just always defended himself with the same excuse, that he loved me and wanted to keep me safe."