The Demon's Call

by Philip C Anderson

  “But a crucible for what?” asked Russ. “How many Coroths have there been? What do the gods want of all this? If you know”—

  “I can’t,” Jeom said, “and I won’t.” His eyes traced nothing. “May have told you too much already now that I’ve said it.”

  Quiet surrounded them, and Jeom paced, muttering to himself, waving his hand in time with his musings. Russ rolled the stone between his hands as his mind slowly settled on the one truth he’d avoided for the past two decades.

  “I have to pay for it. That’s the way of things, isn’t it?”

  “Yes,” Jeom said. Then he noticed what Russ handled. “What is that?”

  “A soul stone.” Russ sniffed and wiped his nose with his sleeve. “Lillie gave it to me in the nether at Arnin.”

  “It can’t be hers”—

  “No. She told me she took it from someone who wasn’t aware she had. Been trying to piece together how or if it fits into all this. I feel like I’m so close.” Russ’s thoughts returned to his wife. “She was so close. Twice now. My rune never stopped twinging over the years, and when it would, I’d”—he sighed—“I’d almost feel her there with me. All that time. Figured out the meditation, even, so I wouldn’t have to sleep. Couldn’t bear to miss a tick, anything that might tell me she was alive.”

  Jeom frowned.

  “Funny. I don’t know if I remember havin this dream, or if I remember remembering having it. Musta been a long time ago, but I’m just there, floating through space. Somethin’s chasing me, and there’s this one star, brighter than any of ‘em. Can’t remember much what happened after that, and—maybe the dream changed; perhaps it was two different dreams—I ended up talkin to this guy.” Russ paused. “Gah, he told somethin important, I think. Wish I could remember it.”

  “Why are you telling me this?” Jeom sounded annoyed but interested.

  “Just talking. They’re coming. D’niqa said she’d attack at dawn. Guess my mind is scrambling.”

  “Russell, Karli has Called you again. And whether you accept or turn away is up to”—

  “But one thing he said”—

  “He? M’keth?”

  “No.” Russ batted his hand to the side of his face to wave away smoke that had tickled his nose. “I can’t really remember what he said or who he was, but”—he tried to remember the meaning if not the words. “I think he was talkin about bringin me and Lillie together. Somehow.” Then he doubted. “But that’s probably not right.”

  Jeom stared at him. Skepticism tinted his gaze. “A dream character?”

  “Yeah. And I know exactly where she is now. This’ll all be over if I can just get to her.”

  Russ had calmed, enough for the words he spoke to make sense, for him to find certainty in what he surmised despite how unsure the world had become. Whether ‘her’ meant D’niqa or Lillie didn’t matter anymore. He would do what he had to do. Because it had to be that way. He’d been so convinced of finding Lillie in the nether that he’d felt like he made that manifest, but the truth Karli needed him to know came to him as a letter that told a synopsis of his life, if not in truth, then in tale:

  In times of surety, we don’t even try to find it, but when the gods test us, Meaning finds us the same. And what an uncertain game the gods had played with him.

  Jeom stared at him for a few seconds, then looked back at the stick of incense. “About that time, then.” He sighed. “My young friend, set what comes tomorrow out of mind and rest tonight. You’ll need it. But first you must talk to your people. You can’t hide any longer.”

  “I could try,” Russ said, knowing he couldn’t.

  The old Master chuckled. “You could, but they’ve found you. So even if you think you still can, don’t.”

  “Would that I could, then. Thank you for your counsel, my old friend.”

  Jeom’s legs had already disappeared. A smile coated his face before the rest of him followed. “Good luck.”

  A dull tink sounded from the bowl of ash, and the Grand Master came out of pense.

  5

  Russ turned down the hall. A voice-quartet practiced at the sanctuary’s nave, where the temple staff burned incense scented with agave and honeydew. With the weather outside—the sun hung low through the temple’s windows—he could almost convince himself that spring had already come upon them. He breathed in the peace.

  A man stopped next to him. “They told me I’d find you here.”

  Russ recognized the voice. Time had played its song on his old mate. “Alerix Pender.”

  Alerix sighed. “Aye, ‘tis I.”

  “‘Tis I, ‘tis I,” Russ said, speaking the words they’d often sung during their off-hours. “Need look nowhere but to me”—

  “And if you miss me much, I’ll be a sight to see,” they said. They remained stoic a few seconds before they turned to each other, laughing.

  Russ grabbed Alerix’s arm to balance himself. “Goddess alive, it’s been too long. How is it?”

  “All right when I haven’t been trying to dodge Karhaal or—or slinking through an underbelly somewhere.”

  “Ah, you’re a sight. I’ve not seen anyone from my year or older since I”—

  “Disappeared?” Alerix said. His voice sounded like old radio recordings Russ had heard on tepid midsummer days during his youth; a proper tenor that would have transmitted clearly over airwaves. “Or gotten involved again?”

  Russ sighed. “Both.”

  “And Karhaal tells me you’ve been working as a pumpkin farmer.”

  “Ran a farm that cultivated pumpkins, yeah? Doesn’t make me a pumpkin farmer.”

  Alerix gaffed. “Right. And being a toad doesn’t mean you’ve got warty skin”—

  “Well what of that armor? Thought you’d disappeared, too. Surprised they’d even let you into the city.”

  “This rune”—Alerix held out his uncovered left arm—“gets me into Karhaal. It gets me the benefits.” He gestured to his armor. “Not this. I almost didn’t report for your recall anyway.” A subtle denigration under-toned his words.

  “Then what brings you here?”

  “Heard a certain asshole had laid up, and traveling sounded a lot better than just sitting around there.” Alerix stood a few inches taller than Russell. His hair formed a ‘U’ from ear to ear around the back of his head. “Got to Karhaal just in time for a session—no quorum, mind.” He tutted. “The Chamberlain might wonder why I’ve stayed away all these years. Goddess, and then Luff told me you’d left already. Chased out o’ town the way I hear it. What a fucking mess.”

  “Left of my own,” said Russ. “Didn’t fancy gettin stuck there. I’ve got—had—more important things to do.”

  “Like what, if I’m not out of kind.”

  Russ tried to sound casual, but he’d never perfected the mode. “Finding the main hive of this War?”

  Alerix’s brow pulled together. “Cripes, the rules just keep changing, don’t they? Didn’t find that until near the end last time—just days before Jeom”—

  “Yeah.” They remained silent a half-dozen seconds. “How many are here, do ya know?”

  “More keep showing up by the hour. Most I either haven’t seen since before the War ended or are new—to me, at least. Old Luff chastised anyone who didn’t want to come.” Alerix imitated the apothecary. “‘What do you mean you won’t respond to his call? Surely I must have misheard you.’ Shamed them more than anything. He had more than few words for me personally. That was fun. And he gave me something for you, I guess as some sort of insurance.” From his pocket he pulled a ring, a plain piece of silvered metal that rested on his palm. “He told me you’d know what to do with it.”

  Russ took it. The ring hummed with a frequency of Ley energy, more powerful than what he’d used in Karhaal—like Liri had somehow wound the magic tighter. It whirred in time with the passing seconds. An etching on the inside read, ‘For the man who has found nothing.’ He laughed and pocketed it. “Funny guy, old Luff.”
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  Alerix chuffed. “Sure. Ya know, I never thought I’d see you again, apart from your portraits.” He gestured with his right thumb toward a painting in the temple’s foyer, identical to those at Arnin and Karhaal. “Saw the runes on your hammer in the security recordings, though. Knew it was you. How Manifeld justified his doubt comes down to who he is, and”—

  “Russ,” someone said from behind them. They turned.

  “That’s Grand Master to you, boy,” said Alerix. “What in the hells are you doing here? I told you all to stay put.”

  “We’re not kids, ass”—

  “It’s fine, Al,” Russ said. “He’s my friend.”

  Alerix looked between them, his gaze oblique, then he hmphed. “At least he looks the part”—

  “Russ, what’s going on?”

  “I’ll tell everybody once we’re back at Rhine’s,” said Russ. “Are they still flocked there?”

  Grenn raised his hand to his ear and waited. “Yeah. People heard you woke up. We’ve been waiting.”

  Russ stopped himself before he spoke. For an instant, while the quartet sang their hymn about the Light’s absolution through Urtim the Unbound, he sensed an elusive peace that threatened to fall upon him. Light from the high windows scattered shadows to the sanctuary’s corners, and though this temple would never be the one at Karhaal, that made this hall—of aging pine—no less impressive. The air inside had warmed and loomed on the pleasant side of comfortability.

  But the peace here, no matter how well made, served only as an illusion—perhaps even a distraction—from the world outside it walls.

  “Then we should go,” Russ said. They left.

  Outside, Russ stopped on the sidewalk and raised his arm to hail a passing cab.

  “What are ya doing?” Grenn asked. Concern painted the younger man’s face. “Rhine’s is right there.” He pointed at a building across the street, four blocks from them.

  “What?” Russ stared at the black marble. “But the ride here took ages.”

  “We literally watched the cabbie drive down the street and pull over here.”

  Russ winced. “We?”

  “Yeah. Willa and I followed you outside, along with a couple others.”

  “Fuck, that’s embarrassing.”

  “There are worse things to be embarrassed about,” Alerix said as they headed toward the hotel. His armor gleamed a pasty color of cream in the early-evening sun.

  “Sure.” Russ wrung his hands while they walked. “Any idea what I should say to ‘em? Everyone gathered, I mean.”

  “You do mean to address them?”

  Russ nodded. “I have to.” A double-wide freight vehicle lumbered by, going the other way with a dull roar. Its suspenders kicked up dust from the dry road. A gravi-cycle with flashing lights preceded its path. Other street-traffic cleared toward the sidewalk.

  “There’s been a lot of speculation over the years,” said Alerix after it passed. “I’m sure you’ve kept your ears open. Most of us just want to hear your truth. Shit, I’m having to pinch myself right now to make sure I’m not dreaming. Had to see you for myself, of course.” He waited for Russ to look at him before he said more. “And I’m glad to fetch you, as my old description might have warranted.”

  “Warden Pender.” Russ dropped his gaze to the sidewalk. “Goddess, I messed all this up”—

  “Don’t tell me that. I’m well aware of the trouble your departure caused—how much it still causes. But you’ve got a host of gathered Karlians and—Leynars—who want answers that no other person on Coroth can give them. Though I don’t know about the latter group.”

  “The Priests,” Grenn said. “And we serve the same Goddess.”

  Alerix tutted. “The scepter installed his own power at Karhaal after the Accords specifically prohibit such a thing. That borders on high treason.” He leaned toward Russ. “But even if a tribunal convicted him, his own council would exonerate him—against, I think, even an edict from the Order.” The old Warden straightened himself. “We all know from whom the Priests, as you call them, take their orders. The king’s mistress—that Undertaker.” Disgust tinged her name.

  “Do you know anything about her?” Russ asked.

  “Apart from her thinking she’s queen-shit, no. Believe me, I’ve tried. She appeared from nowhere as far as I’m concerned—after I left, of course. As Warden, I had access to nearly all the powers you left in your stead, and even then I don’t think it would have been enough to stop the king from butting in on our affairs. I wanted nothing more than to keep things floating”—

  “Then why didn’t you?” asked Grenn. “Why didn’t you do what Manifeld did?”

  “There was no need for it when I was there. Like I said, I couldn’t have done anything to stop the king anyway, especially after Manifeld created his little Chamberlain position. Our ship sunk faster than I could manage—than anyone could, even Manifeld. Have to at least give him that. He took up a responsibility nobody else near leadership wanted.”

  That nagged Russ more than anything as they entered Rhine’s. Would the world have turned out so much differently if he hadn’t done what he did?

  Nerves bugged his gut against the collective hum of those on the door’s other side. He couldn’t parse what any of them said; trying would have annoyed him anyway.

  “Then it sounds like you’re in this mess because of yourself, too,” said Grenn. “Don’t lay everything on Russ or the Priests”—

  “Grenn,” Russ said, “it’s not the time.”

  Alerix stood next to him with a mask of spiteful patience. “I’ll head in first, call order.” He stepped forward but half-turned and cast a withering glare upon Grenn. “And Boy.” He made sure Grenn looked at him. “I just ask that you remember exactly what’s going on here.” The older Karlian pushed inside. A couple saw Russ before the doors closed.

  “Who the fuck does he think he is?” Grenn said after the doors settled.

  Russ would have wondered the same, but he empathized with Alerix. The years had proven unkind to most.

  “Karlians,” Alerix said. A few seconds later, a long swallow-like whistle quieted the room. “Right. And the others of you gathered here, lend me your attention for a moment. Many of you know of the attack at Karhaal, and the man who showed up there calling himself Trent Geno. That man, who will stand before us presently, is our Grand Master, as you all shall see with your own eyes.”

  From the door’s other side came a chorus of gasps and mutterings.

  “Long have we awaited,” said Alerix, and he repeated himself, louder: “Long have we awaited the Grand Master’s return. I’ll be the first to admit to you”—the gathered quieted for him—“I never expected we’d see another War. Yet War is here, sure as serrens. I never expected for the Grand Master of our Order to just up and disappear, either, yet we all responded to his call regardless. Russell Hollowman himself stands on the other side of this door”—in Russ’s mind’s eye, he saw Alerix pointing toward him.

  Alerix continued, his voice quieter. “This our Outset. As Warden, I won’t speak for you, but I want to hear what he has to say. In this moment, with us gathered like no time in the recent past, I will vouch for him as he addresses us.”

  The door opened, and Russ realized that he stood in pajamas, his feet dirty and bare.

  “Good luck,” Grenn said, and Russ stepped inside to face his legacy.

  Whispers passed across the room: “Holy shit. That was him earlier,” “Goddess, did he go insane?” “There’s no way that’s him. Why should we”—and, “Get his portrait up.”

  In front of them, Russ’s nerves calmed. “You’ve all”—his voice caught in his throat, and he coughed. “You’ve all come here at the behest of someone else.” His words boomed through the room. “Me. The king. Perhaps the Goddess Herself.”

  They’d quieted for him, more than they had for Alerix. Anxieties and missteps plagued Russ’s mind while he turned in place, trying to look at each person there, but t
oo many waited on his words. Those on the second story leaned against the wooden railing, watching from above.

  “Let me start this—this forum—with a small statement. I made a choice twenty years ago. Since then, Coroth has seen the most structured and settled peace the world has ever had. Nothing I’ve done would have changed that, and nothing I did caused it. We live in a world cultivated by a man whose power and achievements eclipse anyone alive right now.

  “But that peace has ended. The demons come. Even now, I feel it. I’m sure you all do. They have heard their master’s call. I may have shirked the duty given to me by man, but I can never escape my duty to the Goddess Karli. We must protect this world from that threat.”

  “But we elected you because of what you did,” a man said from the upper deck. “During the War, I mean. How could you just abandon us?”

  Russ wanted to laugh. He hoped these people would understand the truth as he did, if not now, then eventually. “Whatever power you think I have, I don’t. Whatever things you assume I did, I didn’t. I’m a person, the same as any of you. That answer won’t suffice for many here. It doesn’t for me, either. But everyone makes their choice, and I made mine.”

  “It was greedy. If you say what you did can’t diminish who you are, then who in the hells are you?”

  “Hear,” an old Priest said from the upper level. Her scowl burrowed her eyes under her brow. “We have all had to live with the consequences of your actions.”

  Russ shook his head. “You won’t have to forever. I don’t expect any of you to understand”—

  “But why? What is it we can’t understand? Has your exile been worth it—sending the world into chaos?”

  “Hear,” a man across the hall said. He banged his fist on the banister in front of him. A few others joined his agreement.

  Russ only had to remember how close he’d come to Lillie on the barrier’s other side just days before. “Every second.”

  The crowd erupted, all speaking at once. “He’s unfit to be Grand Master,” “… a desertion of his duties,” “We should call a new cabinet!”