The Usurper's Crown

by Sarah Zettel

  “I don’t know. Something …” He lifted his head, as if he had caught a sudden sound, or scent. “Something new …”

  Ingrid stared in the same direction, but saw nothing. All the sounds of sea and wind seemed the same.

  “Ingrid, take us in to shore,” said Avanasy. “I do not like this.”

  Ingrid did not question or protest. She trimmed the sail and swung the tiller around, steering them toward the green land. She badly wanted to see what Avanasy was staring at as he watched the open water past her shoulder, but her business was the boat, and she needed to keep a sharp eye out for breakers that would mark any shoals or other shallows.

  Then it seemed to Ingrid that the day grew dimmer, and something was lost. In another minute she knew what it was. The seabirds had fallen silent.

  “Vyshemir defend!” Avanasy leapt over benches and gear to reach the port rail.

  Ingrid risked a look back, and her grip slipped from the tiller.

  They flew behind the boat, faster than the wind for they were gaining. They were huge and ungainly, shaped more like apes than men. Their wings blocked out the sun, and they were armed. What light there was outlined spears and swords in their huge fists.

  “God in Heaven,” was all she could breathe.

  “Get us in, Ingrid,” cried Avanasy, drawing his knife. “I’ll hold them off, but we must get to land!”

  Ingrid forced her eyes back down. Work the ropes, raise the sail, steer the tiller, watch the shore, watch for breakers. Don’t look back, don’t look back. She forced these words through her, although her mind was awash in panic. What were those things? What did they want? Oh, God, how could Avanasy face them all down with just a knife?

  Shadows swooped over the boat, and despite all her resolve, Ingrid had to look.

  Avanasy did not hold his knife now. Both his palms were cut and the blood ran red down his hands as he lifted them to the wind. He cried aloud, harsh words Ingrid could not understand and the demon — what else could it be? — responded with a laugh like the low roll of thunder and swooped closer. Light glinted on red skin and black armor and cruel yellow fangs. Fear left Ingrid dizzy, but Avanasy didn’t move.

  All at once, the wind blew hard, making the boat buck against the waves. It scattered the demons. The nearest shouted in his frustration and dove down on them again, and again the wind blew him back. But it also strained the canvas and made the ropes creak dangerously. A wave rolled over the rail, and Ingrid leaned all her weight against the tiller. The boat fought her, torn between Avanasy’s wind and the natural actions of the waves.

  Avanasy, pale as death in the bright sun, snatched up a length of rope in his bloody hands. Shouting again, he tied a knot in its length. One of the demons arched its back, screeching in what Ingrid could only believe was pain. It plummeted into the sea, tossing up a fountain of brine. For a moment, the wind stilled, and Ingrid was able to haul hard on the tiller and swing the boat about, aiming the prow for a cleft in the shore that she prayed would make a harbor.

  Avanasy staggered, the motion of the boat sending him reeling against the rail. The chief of the demons laughed again and whirled his sword over his head, bringing it flashing down as if it meant to cleave rope and sail. Ingrid hauled hard on the line and the boat heeled over, its rail skimming the water, and the sword missed by a bare inch. Avanasy slid to the deck, but braced himself against the bench.

  “This is my wish,” Ingrid heard him grate, his hand curling around one of the belaying pins. “This is my word, and my word is firm, my word is firm, my word is firm!”

  He lifted the pin high, raising himself to his feet, and in his hand it was a pin no more. It was an axe on a long pole, and the demon swooped close again and he swung it out and their weapons rang together with a mighty clash. The demon shrieked and fell back, beating the air with its wings. It dove again, and again Avanasy parried, and it was all Ingrid could do to keep her seat and make herself watch the water, but when her eyes dropped again, she saw what she feared more than any impossible monster.

  Breakers.

  Rocks, shallows, shoals, it didn’t matter, the safe cove she had steered them toward had no safe entrance. Immediately, Ingrid leaned forward to bring in the canvas, to swing the boom and bring them about, but the demons had seen, and they dropped low behind the boat, their great wings fanning the wind and driving the little boat forward, toward the breakers.

  “Avanasy!”

  Avanasy saw, and swung his axe through the air, cutting at wind and wings. The demons shrieked and fell back, giving Ingrid a moment’s respite to haul the sail down, but the boat still surged forward, and the breakers were far too close. She searched the pattern of them desperately, watching for a clear space, or at least a strong wave to carry them over whatever lay beneath.

  She spied their chance, or what she hoped was their chance, a place in the swell where the waves seemed to surge through rather than smash against the shallows. She leaned hard on the tiller, aiming the boat and praying hard to whatever gods watched over sailors here.

  One of the demons dropped in front of the boat. Ingrid did not let herself flinch. The way was too narrow, she had to hold steady. Avanasy gripped the rail with one hand and raised his axe, shouting to the sky. The demon shook as if buffeted by heavy blow, and it fell back.

  At that moment the boat shuddered, and the tiller ripped itself momentarily from Ingrid’s hands, but it was enough. The other two demons rose grinning from the side, and she had just time enough to realize they had battered themselves against the boat before the surge drove them onto the rocks.

  The world filled with a hideous splintering, crashing and roaring. Thrown backward, Ingrid tumbled into the surf, dragged instantly into the swell by her heavy skirts. Her hands clamped around the stern rail, barely able to hang on. A demon dove grinning toward her. She screamed and dropped down into the water, and the world was suddenly blue gray and silent and her lungs strained and salt water stung her eyes. Waves shoved her forward hard and she struggled to swim, expecting any second to be snatched into the air. But no grip seized her, other than the water, relentlessly surging, weighting her down too heavily. She thought of Grace and, for a moment, despaired.

  But her foot found the ragged bottom and she kicked upward at the same time a wave tumbled her forward, dashing her against a shelf of rock and knocking all the air from her lungs just as her head broke the surface, allowing her to scream for her pain and fear.

  The waves rolled her over again, driving her into the pebbly shoal and then dragging her back out again. Scrabbling with hands and knees, Ingrid managed to gain a little purchase and forced her head and shoulders above water. Salt water burned in her eyes as she struggled upright so she could see.

  And she saw Avanasy. He stood up to his waist in the surging water, his axe over his head. The demons wheeled above him, but they did not come close. Avanasy slashed the air with his axe, again, and again. With each slash, the demons pulled closer together, as if bound by invisible ropes. Avanasy cried once more, and the demons fell. Not in a straight line, not into the sea, but in an impossible arc, to vanish into the forest that covered the coast.

  At that same moment, Avanasy’s arms dropped, and he fell forward into the surf. With a cry of her own, Ingrid launched herself to his side to try to catch him, but her own strength was failing her, and she could only prop him up against her shoulder. But his eyes were open, and he was breathing, and it was enough.

  “Come, come,” she croaked, her throat harsh with salt and sand. “We must get to shore.”

  Avanasy mustered a nod and, together, leaning on each other, they labored to the shore, half swimming at times, sometimes Ingrid dragging Avanasy forward, sometimes Avanasy dragging her. At last, the waves pushed them forward and left them stranded on the stony beach, collapsed and panting, bleeding and bruised, two lost creatures of the sea left upon land to die.

  The sun was hot and the water she had escaped from was harsh. Eventually, thirst be
came a stronger force than exhaustion, and Ingrid was able to push herself upright. Avanasy already sat up, hunched over his own knees, facing inland. He had been white before. He was gray now, and his breath was a sickening rattle.

  “We need to find water,” rasped Ingrid.

  Avanasy just shook his head. “We need to find the demons.”

  “Why?” was all the answer Ingrid could make.

  “I’ve bound them. They pull at me. If I don’t transfer the bond … If I don’t make some bargain, or bind them to some element, they’ll break free, and they’ll set on us again. I’ve not much strength left, and they’ll know it.”

  The thought of facing those monsters again made Ingrid shudder, but she would not leave Avanasy alone, not while he was shivering despite the bright sun.

  She made herself swallow and say, “Do you know where they are?”

  “All too well.” He tightened his sinews and stood, and Ingrid stood with him.

  This coast was as different from the place they had first come ashore in Isavalta as it was possible to be. That place had been all gray stones and gray cliffs. Here, there rose a thick forest beyond the stretch of sand. Salt wind twisted the trees, making them stooped and kinked like arthritic old men. From inside the forest, she could hear the demons, their thrashing and their shrieking like the sound of tortured metal. Beads of sweat stood out on Avanasy’s forehead as they entered the wood, but he walked with determination.

  The farther they ventured from the shore, the straighter the trees became, and sand gave way to loam, dead leaves, ferns and rich moss. The noise did not pause or abate. If anything it grew more riotous. Avanasy staggered, and Ingrid caught him by the arm, lending what little strength she had to his support. He squeezed her hand, and they went on through the green dimness toward the unearthly clamor.

  “You will be bound,” said Avanasy through his clenched teeth. “I will it so, you will be bound.”

  At last, the trees pulled away from a stony clearing. The last two demons waited there, shaking their weapons and straining their wings at the sky. Their leader, or so Ingrid thought of him, had rings of gold in his ears. He beat the ground with his spear as if he could force it to let them go.

  “Be still!” ordered Avanasy.

  And they were still, but even so, Ingrid could see them quivering as they strained against the order. Even restrained as they were, they were terrifying. Fangs curled from their mouths and talons from their hands and feet. The constant wind rattled the scales of their armor like the leaves of the trees. Their yellow eyes were the size of saucers, and a rotted, burning smell clung to them that went straight to the back of Ingrid’s throat and choked off her breath.

  The chief of the monsters snarled at Avanasy. “You transgress, man. We may not be twice bound.”

  “You may be bound until the end of time if I so declare it,” answered Avanasy. “The roots in the earth beneath us can be called on to bind you tightly. The air can weave a net to hold you close.”

  “Such boasts, such brags. You have not the strength.”

  “You are bound to me with bloodshed between us. If I transfer that bond, what can you do?” Avanasy’s voice turned dangerous. “You are creatures of fire, air and metal. I will bind you here with earth and water, by earth and water, under earth and water, between earth and water, I will bind, and my binding will be as firm as my word, as strong as my blood …”

  Beneath the demons, the earth began to move. Runnels of dirt ran up their legs like reaching fingers, swaddling their skin and exposing the bare tree roots. The roots themselves writhed and parted, revealing dark holes beneath the trees. Ingrid smelled a sudden gust of sea wind from the opened hole. Avanasy had gone freshly white with effort, but his voice did not falter. The demons screamed, their cries of pain shuddering the wood and filling the air with heat and the scent of burning. It did them no good, and terror joined pain in their screams. Avanasy put out one hand to steady himself against a tree, but he grimly worked on, his spell never faltering, although his voice began to soften. The demons looked like living statues of sand now, and the weight of the earth heaping itself over them began to bear them down, into the opening caves and the scent of the sea.

  “No!” cried one of the demons. “Please, master, no!”

  “Mercy!” cried the leader, and its cry now was as heartbreaking as it had been horrible before.

  Only then did Avanasy cease his slow chant, and for a moment, all the world held still.

  “Mercy?” said Avanasy, softly, dangerously. “Why should I show mercy to the ones who sought my blood and the blood of my wife?”

  “We were ordered, master,” wailed the leader of them all. “We bear you no ill. Set us free, bind us no more, and we will leave you and yours in peace.”

  “Ordered by who?”

  “We know no name.”

  “Do not lie to me. What is his name?”

  “Yamuna, Yamuna, master, now let us go! Let us leave each other in peace!”

  Slowly, Avanasy shook his head. “It is not enough. Not for the hurt you would have dealt us.” He began his chant again, and, relentlessly, the weight of the earth pressed the demons to the ground.

  “Please!” gasped the leader, forced to his knees. “Master, please. What is your price?”

  Again, Avanasy halted the spell, and the whole world was still for a single moment. “You will never again plague any under my protection, and you will carry us safely to the Heart of the World.”

  “We cannot, we cannot.”

  “Then be you buried,” said Avanasy implacably. “For I cannot leave you free.”

  The demon nearest the pit began to howl, struggling against the earth that bound him like a shroud, to no avail. The hole simply widened, yawning like a mouth to receive a morsel.

  “Mercy, mercy!” cried the chief demon. “It shall be as you say!”

  “Swear it,” said Avanasy.

  “I swear, I swear!” gibbered the demon. “Spare us the earth!”

  “By what do you swear?”

  “By my own eyes, by the fire that birthed me!” screamed the demon.

  At that, Avanasy nodded. “It is enough.” He knelt, laying his bloodstained hands flat upon the ground. He murmured something Ingrid could not hear, and all at once the earthen shrouds fell from the demons, the grains scattering like the dust they were. The ground heaved once more, and the tree roots closed over the pit again, lacing themselves into a tight, natural net.

  Avanasy did not get to his feet. Rather than have to look at the creatures that faced her, with their fangs and their wild yellow eyes, Ingrid crouched beside him. “Are you all right?”

  “No,” he answered flatly. “But it does not matter. Help me up.”

  Ingrid tightened her jaw around all her questions and helped Avanasy to stand. The chief of the demons did not seem able to look him in the eyes. It bowed its head and its great wings slumped until they dragged the ground.

  “You have doomed us, man,” he growled. “When would you have us fulfill our bond?”

  “Now,” said Avanasy. He looked toward Ingrid, and Ingrid could not keep her trepidation from her eyes.

  “How can we do this? How can we trust them?”

  “They are bound to me now. They cannot harm or disobey,” he said with utter conviction. Avanasy moved close to her and gripped Ingrid’s forearms. “Hold tight to me, Ingrid, and do not be afraid.”

  “Come now, master,” growled the chief.

  Freed from Avanasy’s spell, the demons showed no further sign of weakness. In a single moment, they embraced Ingrid and Avanasy, and their wings raised up until the sun was blocked by the bloodred feathers. Ingrid bit her tongue to keep silent. Then there came a great rush of air, and the ground fell away from underneath her feet.

  Ingrid had little time to imagine what such a flight would be like, but if she had a thousand years, she never would have anticipated the reality of it. She could not see anything. The world was the rushing of
wind, red, gold and black shadows, the stench of burning and Avanasy’s hands gripping her arms. The heat was stifling. Her feet dangled loosely, and she had to fight to keep from kicking out in a vain attempt to find some footing.

  Then, it was over, and it was only she and Avanasy, their backs against a sandstone wall, and busy river docks spreading out before them. It was only then that Ingrid realized she was soaked with sweat and stench and her hands had gone completely numb. Avanasy looked like death itself, but at the same time, his limbs seemed steady while Ingrid’s felt weak as water.

  “Come,” his voice rasped in his throat. “Let us sit for a moment, here.”

  Still holding tightly to each other, they settled themselves stiffly at the base of the wall. Avanasy gently extricated himself from Ingrid’s grip and laid her hands in her own lap. For a while, she was content just to sit, and feel the warmth that was no more than sunlight touch her skin, and draw some sensibility back into her hands, even if it was only pins and needles. Indeed, it seemed as if she might never will herself to movement again. But, gradually, as the world stayed steady and the familiar sensation of wind in her hair and on her face proved it would not change suddenly into the breath of a demon in black-and-gold armor, Ingrid found thoughts once again beginning to coalesce inside her battered mind.

  “Where are the … demons?” she asked.

  Avanasy let his head fall back to rest against the wall so that he stared up at the summer blue sky with its drifting clouds.

  “Perhaps back in their home in the Silent Lands. But, more likely, they have fled to try to avoid the summons from their other master, which will surely come.” He watched the clouds slowly shifting their shapes overhead. “I cannot imagine Yamuna will be pleased.”

  “Who is Yamuna?”

  “Each member of the royal family in Hastinapura is assigned a sorcerer as a protector and advisor. Yamuna serves Chandra, who is father to Kacha, the one who was married to the empress of Isavalta.”

  “They know you have returned then.”

  Avanasy bowed his head and ran his hand through his hair. “So it would seem. I have not been as subtle as I thought.”