Tell

by Allison Merritt

  “Yeah, we just love one another to pieces.” Tell rolled his eyes and shrugged off his father’s arm. “It’s so touching. We’re a big inspiration to other families.”

  “I can’t imagine where you got an attitude like that, Tell. Certainly not from your mother.” Seneca shook his head. “You’d better hope your own children don’t inherit it.” He crossed the room to Sylvie. “Of course, with a lovely young woman like Sylvie for a mother, they’re sure to be angels.”

  She laughed. “You haven’t heard Rhia tell the stories about trying to raise me, have you? We’re doomed should we manage to bring a child into the world.”

  “At least it won’t be an ugly child.” He narrowed his gaze. “How are you feeling? I would have come last night after Dochi alerted me to the situation, but I didn’t think you needed the entire family crowding you.”

  “I’m better than everyone should expect. I was more worried for Tell than myself. All he could do was kill me, but he could torture and use Tell for a multitude of sins.” Sylvie’s chin wobbled a little as she met Tell’s gaze.

  “I’d kill him again if it wasn’t so much trouble to conjure a demon.” Tell cracked his knuckles.

  “We’re fortunate to have such a brave woman in the family.” Seneca smiled. “So much like Gloria. She never flinched away, even at the worst evil.”

  Tell scowled. “Much as a family breakfast is a fun reason for getting together, we have a real problem here.”

  Sylvie’s smile fell. She stared down at the cloth holding her arm against her chest.

  Tell’s mouth went cotton dry. “I can’t risk another demon using Sylvie to get to me. We need some kind of spell to keep us hidden. Nebo says there are lots of demons who know my name. The next one might not wait around to use it.”

  “It’s true.” Seneca nodded. “The one who cast the spell on your sister to make her curse you shared the name. We’ve been lucky—I suppose you could say—that the knowledge only recently came to light. It’s time to prepare for the consequences of one of them saying it. They could do so at any time. Fortunately, in order to steal the powers you’ve acquired, they must be near and prepared to contain the demon part of you that will be exposed on releasing the name into the world.”

  Tell’s chest burned—not with the fire, but fear. “Great, so how do we keep them from getting to me?”

  Seneca took a deep breath. His dark blue gaze slid between Tell and Sylvie. “You could come to the Gray Lands. It’s been a task trying to sort out the good and bad, but I think it’s safe to say you’re less likely to be attacked there.”

  Tell bristled. “I’m not leaving Sylvie behind.”

  “I didn’t suggest that.” Seneca gestured at her. “She’d be welcome too. I would never turn away family in need of sanctuary.”

  A hoarse laugh forced its way between Tell’s lips. “Sanctuary? The Gray Lands would ruin her. Has a human ever crossed into that dreary damned place? It would drive one mad just from looking into the fog that floats around all the time.”

  “I’m made of sterner stuff than that, Tell Heckmaster.” Sylvie rose. “If it’s safe there, I’m willing to take up your father’s offer. You shouldn’t dismiss it out of hand.”

  “Christ, you sound so much like Rhia right now.” Tell rubbed his forehead. “You don’t know what it’s like there, Princess. Remember Berner as a desolate hellhole? Hot, dry, ugly? The Gray Lands are exactly what they sound like—gray, depressing, smothering.”

  She approached, then pressed her hand to his cheek. “For you, I’d bear the scorching heat of Hell or arctic winds or even a colorless world. This is about keeping you from turning into a demon more powerful than any the world has ever seen. It’s about ensuring we have a future together. Doesn’t that require doing whatever it takes?”

  Wystan and Eban watched with unreadable faces. Given the choice, neither of them would want to go to Seneca’s palace in the Gray Lands either.

  “Your sister isn’t going to like it.”

  “Wystan will keep her calm.” Sylvie smiled at her brother-in-law. “She understands the need for doing what’s best for the ones she loves. She brought me all the way out here, didn’t she?”

  “I guess,” Tell muttered. “I don’t like it.”

  “You’ll have me with you. I like adventure.” A sweet smile curved her mouth. “The only thing is, can I take the dreadnaught? I have to finish the coats for Rhia and Beryl.”

  “Sylvie, you can’t manage all that with your shoulder hurt. It needs rest. Whatever you’ve got done now will have to suffice.” Eban’s stern voice matched his face. “That shoulder won’t heal if you insist on using your arm.”

  “But Meacham said I have to do this.” The color drained from her cheeks. “I can’t leave them unprotected. The coats for you and Wystan are done, but think about your wife and children.”

  “If you and Tell accompany me to the Gray Lands, there’s no need for the coats,” Seneca said. “Meacham’s prophecies are rendered useless.”

  “I can do it with one hand if I have help,” Sylvie insisted. “Tell, this is important.”

  He hated Meacham for causing his wife this misery. “I know, but think about it. The dreadnaught is made to repeal demons. If you take something like that to the Gray Lands, where there are demons all over the place, it might screw things up. It’s better to leave it here. To…forget about what Meacham said.”

  “If it wasn’t important, he wouldn’t have asked me to do it. Meacham can be cruel, but he wouldn’t give me dreadnaught only to watch me ruin my hands for the fun of it.”

  Wystan held up his hand before Tell could argue. “I agree with Sylvie. She’s worked hard on these coats. She ought to finish them as best she can.”

  She smiled at him. “Thank you, Wys.”

  Eban glared at Wystan. “She has one hand, how’s she supposed to—”

  “Enough, boys. I’ll find the help she needs. The sewing machine and dreadnaught come to the Gray Lands.” Seneca moved toward the coats. He brushed his fingers across the lapel of the one in front, then rubbed his fingers together. “Incredible. Fine craftsmanship, Sylvie.”

  “Thank you.”

  “Pity it can’t—well, we’re all aware of why it won’t protect you or Tell. With careful planning, it won’t be necessary anyway.” Seneca faced them again. “Lovely as breakfast sounds, I should return since this is settled. There’s much to do if I’m going to make Tell feel comfortable in a place he despises.”

  Tell snorted. “That’ll never happen.”

  “Give me a chance, son. You might be surprised. Shall I return this afternoon to accompany you?”

  Sylvie nodded. “I think that’s soon enough.”

  “Until later, then.” Seneca disappeared.

  “You shouldn’t be so hard on him. He is trying to help.” Sylvie collapsed in her chair. “He loves you.”

  “He loves what he does and the position he has among demons.” Tell rubbed his forehead again. “He’s a demon, Sylv. He’s not like us. There’s not a single ounce of humanity in him. Not in the monsters living in the Gray Lands either, no matter how they act or what they say. Trusting one of them would be as dumb as trusting Seere. You see where that got us.”

  Sylvie frowned. “I want to wait until breakfast is over before we tell Rhia. It’s no good getting her upset beforehand. Anyway, I’m starving. So for now, can we pretend that everything is fine?”

  “Everything is not fine. Everything hasn’t been fine in weeks.” Tell paced the length of the room. “Now we’re trusting him to keep us safe in a place that’s twice as bad as this.”

  “Tell.” Sylvie stood again. “Let’s talk about this like adults.”

  He snorted. “Oh, okay. Let’s.”

  “Why do you hate him so much? You have no idea what I’d give to have at least one parent present.”
She came to him and held his gaze. “Be honest.”

  Her brown eyes, magnified behind her spectacles, were wide and innocent, too beautiful to belong to any creature on earth. It almost hurt to look into them.

  His fingers flexed and he reached for the tiny burning coal in his chest, but the fire refused to flare. “He failed my mother. He failed my sister, my brothers, this town. He’s the cause of so much of our trouble. If he hadn’t come to New Mexico Territory in the first place, none of this”—he stretched his arms out wide—“would have happened.”

  “If not him, then some other demon.” She pressed her hand to his face again. “If not for him falling for your mother all those years ago, then there wouldn’t be an us. He did his best. He saved us all from Astaroth, didn’t he? Seneca is trying so hard. Be grateful for his help.”

  “You don’t know what it’s like, trying to repent for his sins. All these years, we’ve fought hordes of demons. They come because they want to appease their masters or they think using our blood will make them stronger. We’re just pathetic half-demon creatures to them. We’re not people with lives and loves and dreams. Only animals to be slaughtered, one stepping-stone on the way to ruling the world. I didn’t ask to be a demon slayer. He put it on me.” His voice rose with every word, until Eban and Wystan crowded close, hands on their weapons.

  Sylvie blinked once and took a deep breath. “I do know what it’s like to be hunted, or don’t you remember why Noem wanted us? Pretty little virgins whose blood could be used for numerous things. He was sick and twisted and he chased us clear across the country. He’s been gone for years, all right, but those memories make me suspicious of everyone and everything I come into contact with in a place like Berner. I could have left when I came of age—I sure thought about it—but Tell, as scary as this town can be, it’s my home. I don’t resent it for what it is, who it shelters, or what happens. I learned to live with it. I’m happy here.” She took another breath as her face reddened. “That man is your father. He loved your mother, he brought you up and he lost you because he was doing his best to keep you safe. There’s no excuse for hating him so much. You can learn to appreciate the things he tried to do for you or you can let it fester, but I’m not going to get on your hate wagon for him.”

  The anger left him with the speed of a popped soap bubble. “I’m sure he’d be thrilled to know his daughter-in-law is willing to defend him to the death.”

  “Someone ought to. The three of you act as though you’re ashamed. I doubt your sister would be so quick to judge him.” Sylvie raised her chin. “If you’ll excuse me, I’m going to see if I can help Rhia and Beryl in the kitchen.” She marched away with her back straight and her footsteps thumping loudly on the wood floor.

  “I don’t envy you putting up with that temper,” Eban muttered.

  “I lived with it for years.” Wystan shuddered. “I’d almost forgotten how mean she can be.”

  “I love her, even when she’s got me by the balls.” Tell shook his head. “How do you forgive the man who left you here alone to die? When he apologizes for it, it just pisses me off even worse.”

  Wystan shrugged. “He did sacrifice himself twice to stop Astaroth.”

  “He’s a better partner than Seere.” Eban rubbed his fingers over the dreadnaught coat. “He’s tried everything under the sun to find the counterspell for that name curse.”

  “Underneath it all, I still see the demon.” Tell raised his gaze to the ceiling. “I can’t stop feeling them. It’s diminished since the new powers have taken over, but I still know they’re there. I still know what kind of evil he managed before Ma.”

  “It’s a pity the way you can sense all that, but that you can’t see the good inside someone.” Rhia stepped through the doorway with her hands on her hips. “If his actions prevent an apocalypse, Tell Heckmaster, then I say we nominate him for sainthood.”

  “There’s the key word, Rhia. If. I’ll throw my hat and shout to the heavens if he manages it. Forgive me for being inclined to believe Meacham’s gloom and doom after everything I’ve seen, but I don’t know how my father or coats are gonna prevent the apocalypse.”

  Rhia pointed her finger at him, mere inches from his nose. “You listen good. That woman in there loves you and she’s willing to do whatever it takes to save you. You trust her and don’t worry about anything else. If Sylvie says coats are going to protect the man I married and the brothers I love, then that’s what’s going to happen. If Seneca says he’ll find a way to stop this demon you’re carrying around, then he will. In the end, everything will turn out all right. I believe it with all my heart. Now go apologize to your wife so we can have a nice, normal family breakfast.”

  “For God’s sake. Everyone turn against Tell the doubter. Fine. See, I’m smiling.” He threw up his hands, plastered on a smile and brushed past Rhia.

  Maybe the demon in him was showing again, or maybe he’d had enough of worrying and guessing what would happen next. Either way, he needed some damn peace. If one demon even looked cross-eyed at him once they got to the Gray Lands, he was going to lose the very last thread of his composure.

  “Sylv, I’m sorry. I’ll do my damnedest to follow the rules, to be a good sport, to keep from sending every demon straight to Hell unless I’m absolutely certain they need it. I’ll hold my tongue in front of my father. Happy?”

  She looked up from the pan of milk gravy she stirred. “Was that so hard?”

  He gritted his teeth. More than you know, sweetheart. “No.”

  “I didn’t think so. Set the table.” She nodded at the pantry. “Please.”

  “Yes, dear.”

  Beryl laughed behind her hand and went back to frying bacon. “Don’t push him too hard, Sylvie. That face is liable to crack any second.”

  “You make Eban jump through these kinds of hoops, Beryl?” He retrieved the dishes and laid them out. There wasn’t near enough room at the table for all the adults, much less the kids.

  “Keeps him in shape. Or at least on his toes,” Beryl answered. “This is only the beginning, poor thing. You’ve got your whole life to look forward to Sylvie giving you a hard time.”

  He laid silverware out beside the plates. I sure as hell hope so.

  Chapter Fourteen

  “Oh my goodness.” Sylvie blinked and squinted through the mists covering the faint outlines of hills. She clutched Tell with her good arm, afraid to let go. There was solid ground beneath her feet, but the swirling grayness made it hard to believe. If she took one wrong step, she might fall through a patch of clouds back to earth—or anywhere.

  “It’s damned ugly.” Tell pressed his lips together.

  “Welcome to my home, Sylvie. I hope the starkness won’t cause you any distress. I’m afraid the atmosphere is unchanging, although your accommodations are the finest you can imagine.” Seneca waved his arm at the grayness in front of them. “If there’s anything I can do, just let me know. Dochi is at your service as well. He’s more than happy to assist you.”

  “He’ll be a big help.” Sylvie smiled at the imp curled by Seneca’s feet.

  “Come along. We’ll go to my office and have a chat. There are some things I’d like to tell you both about.” Seneca gestured for them to follow. “Things I should have discussed much earlier.”

  Tell led her toward a dark, looming shape in the mist. “Father’s palace. Any decent baron has to have a palace, right? Even if it is in the middle of a godforsaken—” He grimaced when she elbowed him. “It’s lovely.”

  “I can’t wait to see it. I haven’t been away from Berner in so long. Just a quick trip to Santa Fe a couple of years ago to get material for my shop.”

  “This ain’t a holiday, Sylvie.” Tell’s body tensed and his gaze darted around. “Keep an eye out for any ugly faces.”

  “Ugly though they may be, they’re excellent at watching out for Hell’s advocates
. In the past, the Gray Side has often overlooked Hell’s attempts to take over. Since I’ve taken over as watcher of the Gray Lands, I’ve been interested to learn what my counterparts in Hell are up to.” Seneca opened the massive door to the palace. “After you, Sylvie.”

  “Thank you.” She stepped inside and waited for Tell to follow. The walls were rough rock like pale limestone, but the floor was glossy white marble swirled with black. Sconces blazed with light, giving the hall a warm appearance.

  “It’s taken some time to infiltrate them, to follow them without arousing suspicion. And I’ve had some cooperation from Ea. He checks in with me periodically. Much as Astaroth’s followers and many other demon lords would like to raise Hell from its position, the kings of Hell seem to prefer things the way they are. For now in any case.”

  “Good to know. Why can’t they keep their little minions on tighter leashes?” Tell asked. He dragged his fingers across the wall, then dusted his hand off on his trousers.

  “It’s the way of demons.” Seneca shrugged. He paused at a door. “My office.”

  Sylvie stepped inside. Her feet sank into the thick carpet. Dark furniture decorated the room and a fire glowed from the dark stone of the fireplace, although the weather was mild and it was hardly needed. “This is beautiful.”

  Seneca grinned. “I must admit I have good taste.”

  “You brought us here to talk about Ea’s plans? He gonna let Astaroth bust loose any time soon?” Tell sank into one of the velvet armchairs. “He know anything about that asshole pretending to be a human and hurting Sylvie?”

  “I’m afraid not. A drink?” Seneca pointed at the crystal decanters on his desk.