The half-men stared, their faces strung together in confusion and wonder. They eyed me suspiciously, and then glanced at Elsa and the others bound in rope.
Jahlil squirmed loudly when he saw the daemons watching him. I wasn’t sure if it was a part of his act, but it sounded real enough. Mawlik made an animated expression of grief and panic, and then wriggled inside the rope. Elsa whispered something hotly at him, and then he stopped moving. Nikhil stayed bound, but his hands were gripped tightly around his sword. He wasn’t doing a very good job looking scared, but luckily, his face was to the wall of the valley.
I took a deep breath to begin my performance.
“ALL RIGHT THEN!” I shouted, pointing to the twelve daemons with both of my hands and taking several steps forward.
They all took several steps back.
“Which of you motherfuckers has the biggest balls?”
CHAPTER 9
The daemons watched me in silence. They exchanged astonished glances with one another, and then shuffled in place like they were considering my question.
Mawlik and Elsa had gone from frightened to appalled, and then to something like offended. Jahlil’s and Nikhil’s expressions were between awe and reverence. Several seconds passed before they returned to sobbing loudly.
“Well?” I asked. I took several more steps forward. Then, feeling that it would help the act, I spun around in three quick circles and wiggled my fingers like I was feeling the air. Then I turned to the sky, and chanted something wild, making the words sound as deep and ancient as I could. Old Emelim mixed with some animal sounds. I cawed like a bird, I mooed like a cow, I babbled like a goat. It was a remarkable performance. Taa would have been proud. The trained actors of Mimenhi and Qashar, the finest performers in all the world, would have been proud. Even Yuweh would have been proud. For a brief moment, I considered bowing.
The moon disappeared behind a cloud again, but the fire in the center and the lights from the cavern were enough to see. The forest had gone quiet. There was no other noise besides the kindling of the fire and the slight movements of the daemons.
One of them inched forward, watching me carefully. The one with the long arm. The limb was bent upward now, hanging in my direction like it was watching me through its fingers. It swayed in a breeze like a fishing hook, gently curling four thin fingers like it was tasting the air.
“Who… who are you?” the half-man asked, squinting one eye in my direction. He turned to Elsa and the others, licking his lips before turning back to me. The arm waved up and down, like it were affirming the question.
“What is my name? What is your name?” I asked, in the most condescending tone I could manage. I should have practiced this, I thought. For someone without the luck of being born with magic, I should have done my best to be sharper in all the other arts. Before this, it was just hard to imagine how some of the things Taa taught me could ever be useful. I made a mental note to pay more attention to her and Mother.
“Yepheltha is my home,” I continued. “You are in my woods. My forest. These are my trees, my animals, my leaves, my air. Even the darkness here belongs to me, and I adore it more than the darkness of the Shaed itself. What business do you have here? Why do you disturb my home?”
Yepheltha was an old name for the Dwah Forest. A name used by the Serpentine tribes, long before Chaya existed. I only knew it because it was what my parents named my sister after. I was hoping the men here would recognize it. I saw some of them nod with curious looks; others raised a brow or a chin at the term. They either recognized it, or were intrigued by the name anyway.
I walked toward the man. “Give me one of your fingers,” I said. “I want to see how you taste.” I looked at Elsa and the others tied together. They whimpered louder when I turned to them. “I did not bring enough food for myself. I will need more… nourishment. I will need more for the blue moon.”
The man’s arm swerved around, hiding behind his back. He took several steps backward. The other men near him followed suit, one of them falling over the log he was sitting on during the ritual. He dropped his instrument, and it cracked on the floor with a loud splintering sound. A few of the other men gasped, chastising him with inaudible mumbles.
A second half-man stepped up to speak. The one with three legs. His second head chattered nervously to the side while his hooves took turns brushing the floor. Each one hesitated a bit before hobbling toward me. They made a soft crunching noise every time he stepped on the wet floor, like there were shells breaking inside of the soil. His hind leg bucked wildly, while the front two shook as he walked.
“Gracious… dark one,” he said, bowing his head low. He turned to the other men behind him, who gave him an encouraging nod, and then continued, “We are here to awaken our master for the blue moon. He is ancient. Perhaps as ancient and dark and as powerful as yourself.” His second head nodded vigorously. “We have sacrificed in his name, we’ve brought tribute for his tastes. If you’d like to join—”
“I don’t give a fuck what you’re here for,” I said, waving a hand dismissively at the air. “Your totem pole friend looks like a monster from a children’s play. I’ve seen raccoons more frightening.”
The half-men gasped. The sound came out sickly, like air being sucked through punctured throats.
“I hunger.” I spat the words, letting drool fall from my tongue. “I need food,” I croaked, curling my lips back. I was ready to do whatever it took to make this believable. If there was a frog nearby, I would have swallowed it whole. I twitched a shoulder, I kicked a leg; I scratched violently at my head. “I need blood and flesh and marrow.” I looked up and a swung a hand toward the moon. “I need bone and hair and organ.” I looked down and took a handful of dirt in my fist. “Must… must feed before I enter my true form. Must be strong before I go to Chaya. I bring them death and decay, fire and destruction.” My voice was raspy from screaming. I gnashed my teeth together, adding a barking sound at the end for good measure.
“Are you a creature of the moon?” the half-man asked. “A child of the blue moon?” His lips parted as he spoke, and then he nodded eagerly, as though everything now made sense to him. He folded his hands together and bent lower, something like a show of respect.
I let my lips quiver, my fingers twitch. “Child? You call me child? Do I look like a child to you?” I whispered angrily. I dug my toes into the ground, soaking up wet soil.
The man opened his mouth to speak, then closed it. He looked at the others, unsure of himself.
“Technically speaking… well… I mean,” he began, but was interrupted by the first half-man who spoke.
“None of us wish to fight you, ancient one,” the daemon with the long arm said. “We simply wish to finish our ritual. If you’d—”
“What’s in the cavern?” I asked, cutting him off. I took a step toward it.
The half-man glanced at it from the corner of his eyes. “Nothing that will interest you,” he quickly replied. He took a step toward it, too. His arm leaned back, trying to pull him away from me. “But we were told to… to ask others not to disturb them.”
I began walking toward the cavern.
“Dark one, please, I ask that you don’t,” the half-man insisted. He stepped in between me and the cavern, but then stepped away when I glowered at him. I narrowed my eyes. I flared my nose. I clenched my fists in anger.
“I’m going inside,” I said. I turned to Elsa. “The cavern belongs to me, like everything else in the forest. I’ll bring my feast with me, lest you scavengers try and take a bite.”
The man glanced at Elsa and the others with regret. “Well… you could leave them outside, we wouldn’t. I mean, maybe we would but…” His mumbled words trailed off as he wiped his lips. He made a motion to speak again, but was interrupted by a loud stirring sound.
The largest of the creatures was beginning to wake.
My heart quickened. I hadn’t thought of what to do if this happened. I’d have to begin my performanc
e again, but it would be less believable a second time over. These men were already convinced—they wouldn’t notice any small mistakes. If I had to do it all over again… I clenched my fists and took a deep breath, trying to ready myself to show the fury and wrath of an ancient forest daemon whose home had been trespassed, but I could feel the adrenaline of the initial performance already fading. I looked into the cavern, considering running in before the creature was fully awake, but that would be too risky. Despite their sluggish motions, I had no doubt the other half-men could move quickly if they wanted to. They were true daemons, and if they saw even the slightest break in my confidence, they would sink their teeth in without hesitating. It was already a big enough risk that I had run down here like this. I was counting on them not being able to smell that I was human like vampires could.
The twelve men gathered around the sleeping creature.
Elsa, Nikhil, Mawlik, and Jahlil sat rigidly still against each other, watching the totem-legged creature with frantic eyes. They were no longer whimpering, but looked genuinely frightened enough to continue the performance. The fire shrunk to no more than the flames of a hearth, no longer overwhelming the rest of the lights in the valley. Now, the small clearing was a dim mix of alchemical torches, blue moonlight, and orange embers. At the top of the hill, I could see Avisynth still watching us. He looked more attentive now. He sat on his legs with his hands gripping the ground next to him for balance.
The daemon with the hands around its oval body spoke. “Master? Are you awake? We did not expect you to be awake yet, the ritual has not completed. Are you strong, master? Are you strong enough to stand, master? You have not fed. You have not eaten.” He rolled around the campfire as he spoke. They were ignoring me now. It was already a bad sign. Even if my performance were believable, if they believed this sleeping creature to be more powerful than me, it wouldn’t matter.
I snarled loudly, but it did nothing. I growled, but the creatures continued to ignore me. I looked around, trying to think of something quick, but nothing came to mind. I considered every detail I could find. The fire had been burning for at least four hours. I could tell by the amount of wood they had run through. The alchemical lights in the cavern had to be new—the shades of white fire were bright, but white fire didn’t last long. I counted all the animals I could see, both in front of me and the ones in my peripherals. Three squirrels tucked into the tops of trees, seven birds, each of a different type, the body of a dead black swan. I smelled the air. There was flesh, both cooked and rotten. There was the scent of alchemical oils burning. There was sweat and blood, charred wood and wet soil. I prayed for an idea to come, anything. My last resort was running into the caverns, screaming for Taa and hoping the boy was telling the truth about her being in there.
Taa would be able to fight these creatures. They would be afraid of her. Her eyes, glowing and bleeding with alchemy. Her bloodless limbs, her frayed shawl made with threads pulled from the back of an umbriel. Taa was more frightening than all of these half-men, and when her shawl blew behind her back, when she fought like the Anasahara from the days of old, the ones who made the seas their own, and hunted krakens, and sea wyrms, and frost eel, she was even more frightening than the totem monster. I tried to think of her for courage. I tried to imagine her standing here to make myself brave. My father’s strength was well known throughout Chaya, but Taa—Taa fought with the fury of the ocean.
The sleeping creature lumbered to a standing position. It rose on its hind legs, wavering left and right like it might tip over at any moment. It wasn’t as large as I had thought, but still stood more than twelve feet high, towering above everyone else. Its totem legs stood far apart from each other, making it take up almost a quarter of the space being used for the ritual. Its clay face ran through a number of different expressions as it woke, like it was brushing off the emotions of a passing dream. When it finally opened its eyes, it smiled.
First it smiled at its twelve servants, and then me, and then at Elsa and the other three tied together with her. It was a broad, deep grin, the kind you’d see on stage, filled with excitement and emotion.
I made sure not to look away, not to give any hint my heart was pounding. The creature’s teeth weren’t sharp, not even large—it was its lips and its tongue that caught my attention. Its wick-like tongue moved about like a rat’s tail or a snake’s tongue, in careful, measured flicks. Its lips covered almost half its face, and glistened brightly against the moonlight with flakes of snow licking at its edges. It had long and thick eyelashes that curled to the side like whiskers. Every time it blinked, the whole of its face changed expressions, matching one of the totems of its legs. It was angry, then sad, then happy, then angry again. The expressions shifted suddenly, but the creature made no motion to show it felt any different.
When it spoke, its voice echoed in a distant and heavy way, as though it were speaking to us from underwater. It walked the same—gawky and slow, with every motion taking great effort. It lifted a leg and threw it near me. The totem crashed into the ground like a pillar falling from the sky.
“What is it, here?” it asked. The words sounded playful and impish. It spoke loudly, but not in an overbearing way. It wasn’t shouting. It was just the size of the creature that made it so loud.
I tried my best to maintain balance, but the daemon hit the floor so hard I tripped from the impact. I stood up slowly, doing my best to keep up an annoyed expression. I didn’t speak right away. If I reacted too quickly it would know I was afraid. Instead, I took several seconds to brush dirt off my shirt, then my boots, and then my pants. If I kept up appearances, I’d at least be able to buy some time. All the animals near the valley had fled. A black swan trotted over the top of the hill, peered down, then ran off with a loud squawk. I thought of what kind of a miracle I would need to save us from this. A meteor from space. A horde of black swans. If something like that occurred, I could take credit for it, too. It would help my image in Chaya.
From the corner of my eyes I saw Nikhil undoing the false knot and gripping his sword. The other men in the ritual were too focused on their master to notice. Elsa glanced around, likely looking for something she could use for alchemy, but there were no liquid substances here. Besides the holy water, we had nothing to use for magic, and the water wasn’t enough to do anything significant. Even if we threw it at these creatures—what would small burns from a few ounces of holy water do to a daemon that could make the floor shake with a footstep? No sword or dagger was going to help us either, and even if we had a bow and arrow, we wouldn’t be able to get more than a single shot off before the other half-men swarmed us.
The banefire was our best hope. We’d have to grab branches and use them as makeshift torches for me, Mawlik, and Jahlil. Elsa and Nikhil were holding their torches behind their backs. They would have to use the holy water to light them with alchemy. It could all be done quickly. The totem-pole creature—its legs were wooden. Fire had to do something. It could give us the distraction we needed. Elsa and the others could run and I could get my sisters. And inside of the cavern… there were alchemical torches burning in there. I could run in and grab one. Those would help if Nikhil and Elsa could use them. Or there could be something else, or someone else in the cavern that could help. Even if it wasn’t Taa, there was something in the cavern that the half-men were afraid of, or at least willing to obey. I could talk myself out of this—but that was assuming this creature would listen to sense.
Time ticked away. I remained silent, running through more and more possibilities. Idea after idea came and went with no real solution. I didn’t want to think about what would happen if my sisters were with the witch or the hairless werewolf. Hope slips away the more knowledge you have. It’s not the way, Taa said in my head. You can’t avoid thinking about things the way they are. I shook my head. I was about to die and the way was doing nothing for me. I needed poison or the speed of an assassin or weapons or magic or a pet daemon. I needed Yuweh’s triton or Stala’s
hammer. I needed—
“What is it? What is it?” the creature asked.
I came back to awareness, sharp and keen.
The creature puckered its lips into a smile, then blew a kiss into the air. Its tongue stretched all the way to the top of its face, where it tasted the rain and the snow on its lashes. It dragged another leg toward me.
“Is it for me?” it asked. “Is it food?” It leaned its body toward me with sudden speed, covering at least twenty feet of distance faster than I could blink.
Still, I held a steady expression. Taa had trained me for this, though never with a real daemon, and never in a situation this tense. Beads of sweat tickled the back of my neck and the tip of my nose. I hoped the creature thought I was hot, not nervous.
I took a deep breath. It was now or never. If we had any chance, I had to take the risk.
“Insolent creature!” I shouted, waving a finger angrily at the giant daemon. I took several steps forward, but smaller ones than I intended. This daemon could crush me with a single wooden leg. Even if it were afraid of me, it could crush me by accident.
“Me? Insolent?” It sang the words like it was reciting poetry. “No, no, no. What is it? Is it food?” It asked again. It turned to the half-men, then to me. It laughed, hysterically first, and then softly like a giggle, and then went back to a vicious laugh when it changed to an angry expression.
Vermilion Dreams (Book One of A Vampire Fantasy Epic) Page 11