by Debra Dunbar
Taullian made a choking noise, and I was sure it wasn't just from the magical cord squeezing the breath from his throat. The courtyard erupted into chaos. Elves and humans exclaimed their shock and surprise over the unheard-of deal this elven lord had allegedly agreed to.
Leethu relaxed her hands slightly, and Taullian drew in a series of ragged breaths, continuing to reflexed clutch his throat. The sorcerer discontinued his efforts and looked wary, taking two very small steps in my direction. I got the feeling he would break and run, given the slightest opportunity. I felt for him. He was clearly torn between the dream of freedom, and the safety and security he held as one of the highest humans in elven society.
"Lies," Taullian choked, his voice raspy. "I do not make deals with demons."
I held out a hand to stay Leethu. "Fine. We'll leave. But will you ever be safe? Demons can clearly come and go undetected among you. We know your hidden catacombs like the back of our claws; we know your forests and your mountains. We can poison your waters, your foods. Who will you trust?"
The elves looked about them, uneasy, but I wasn't through.
"You can't trust us. You can't trust the other elves, who may decide they would rather boot your ass from their kingdom and go back to the way things were. You certainly can't trust the humans. Already a sorcerer and his apprentice live free within the demon lands, secretly trading among your own magic users and selling their skills for great profit. Others will join them: magic users, skilled humans. Can you ever trust them not to slit your throat in your sleep? Not to rise against you in a show of magical power?"
I walked closer to him, interested to see that no one tried to stop me. "Best keep your end of the bargain, Taullian, and go down in history as a progressive leader, one who took risks to benefit all of elven kind. Or die and be remembered as the king who betrayed those who put the crown on his head, whose maggot-filled body dangled for centuries from a demon's parapet."
I took another step, and the sorcerer moved aside to make way for me. My eyes met his, and I saw within them a mute appeal. He'd join Gareth in a heartbeat, and others with him. Soon Cyelle would be empty of magic users.
Taullian's eyes narrowed, glancing around at the crowd awaiting his response. With an audience, he'd be unable to back down on his word. Elven society demanded truth and the honoring of commitments. It was one thing to lie in the middle of a forest with only a human sorcerer to overhear; it would be disastrous to lie now. Reputation, in life as well as in death, meant everything to an elf.
I saw his indecision. "No" would support the current elven culture and practice, preserve his link with tradition, but he'd face rebellion in each kingdom and by the end of the season wind up holding only Cyelle, if that. Human runaways would increase a hundred-fold, and he'd risk constant guerrilla warfare from both the demons and the escaped humans. "Yes" would secure his kingdoms, but at the price of traditional elven support. History was not always kind to the change-agents, but the winners wrote history, and he could have a glorious legacy, if he could secure his win.
Silence stretched out, the tension as tight as the phantom hands garrote cord in Leethu's delicate hands.
"Deal."
The humans shouted, tossing bits of cloth, spoons, rakes, and baskets into the air. Celebration rained down upon the ground in the form of household items , while the elves stood frozen in shock, their entire world rocked to the core. I almost felt sorry for them. Almost.
Leethu let loose the garrote string, and Taullian gasped in relief. I moved a few steps closer, so I could speak without the entire courtyard hearing.
"You obviously have Cyelle under control, so you can oversee the entire united kingdoms in general and take Tonlielle. Dar is best suited to handle Wythyn and Allwin. Leethu will secure Kllee, as she has a history of friendly relations with their kingdom.
I'd assigned Dar an extra kingdom, hoping to keep him busy. Today had clearly shown me he would abandon his post in a heartbeat to protect me, and I wanted him too busy to even think about what might be happening to me in Ahriman's hands. But what to do with the kingdom of Li at the far west of the continent?
"Radl will assist with Li." It was an insane idea. Radl was a Low, the Low who had been trapped at Columbia Mall, unable to activate the gate back to Hel. I'd let him through and marked him as part of my household. He might be a Low, but he was sly and observant, adaptable to a variety of social situations. And he was pretty much all I had left.
Taullian smiled. "And how will you help, Az?"
His tone was mocking. He knew exactly what I'd be doing, and I had no doubt that if Ahriman killed me, he’d find a way to go back on everything we'd agreed upon. It was vitally important that I stay alive, that I hold his feet to the fire and keep him from reneging on our deal.
"I will be busy fulfilling my duties as consort to Ahriman."
It wasn't really a lie. The crowd murmured, surprised at the revelation that I'd managed to land, what amounted to, the match of the millennium.
Taullian's eyes narrowed, his expression calculating. "Happy nuptials, Az. May your partnership prosper."
I felt a chill. He knew. And Ahriman knew. This elf lord would be watching, and the moment I ceased to be a threat, he'd find a way to backtrack on everything.
Leethu and I put on our best poker faces as we exited through the gates, leaving her five demons behind undercover, to gather intelligence and assist in the transition of the most dangerous of the elven kingdoms. Once outside the walls of the city, the succubus let out a whoosh of air, her shoulders slumping in relief.
“That was a close one, Ni-ni. I thought for sure our goose was cooked.”
“Me too,” I replied, my mouth watering at the thought of roasted goose. Would I ever get to eat again? I could see starvation as something Ahriman would enjoy inflicting, although he might not even let me live long enough for that. Would I die in his dungeon? Would I ever again see Wyatt, the girls, my angel?
I forced myself to grin at Dar as we approached, giving him a thumbs-up, as if all was completely okay.
“Sorry, dude, I’ve saddled you with an extra kingdom,” I told him. “You’ve got Wythyn and Allwin.”
“My five have remained here to assist you,” Leethu added. “They are masquerading as humans and will be your eyes and ears, as well as undertaking communications back to Ni-ni.”
The succubus turned her golden eyes on me with sorrow. “We will let you know what happens, and how things are going. If you can, please keep us updated on your… status.”
Status. That would be whether I was alive or not. I’d try, but for their safety, it would be best for me to remain out of contact with any of my former household.
I turned to look at my five remaining household members. “Thank you for your wonderful service in my household. If any of you wish to stay and help Dar, you are welcome to. If not, I release you from any obligations you hold to me. You are free to pursue membership in another household.”
My words were greeted with stunned silence. I’d never truly bound any of my household, just marked them as members. They were always free to come and go, but it was a brutal world out there for an unaffiliated demon.
“But Mistress, you are Ahriman’s consort. Why would we want to leave such a high level household?”
It was one of my Lows, the stooped, color-changing one. My heart ached for him, ached for all of them. I took a steadying breath, trying to figure out how to tell them. They’d been elated at the meteoric rise in status we’d all had, and now it was all gone. My fault. I’d ruined it all to save a bunch of enslaved humans, and it was a long shot if I’d even achieve that goal. My only consolation was that they’d be safe from Feille’s plans. Taullian may be an ass, but he had no aspirations to rule all of Hel.
“I’m afraid Ahriman is very displeased with me. If he kills me, you would be better off unaffiliated with my household. If he lets me live, he will have no compunction about killing any of you on a whim. I want this to be you
r choice.”
They murmured among themselves, uncertain. Life as a demon was a risky thing, and they’d known they could be killed by anyone stronger, at any time, for no reason at all. I could see them weighing the possibility of my continuance as consort, even besmirched, against the risk to their persons.
“Radl,” I called out. The Low demon jumped forward, eyes respectfully lowered as he bowed before me. “I have a special proposal for you. Dar and Leethu will each assist in the integration of one of the elven kingdoms. I would like you to be our representative assisting the Cyelle elves in bringing Li into the fold. Could you do this?”
His eyes rose to meet mine, shock and surprise overcoming his usually excellent manners. “Consort, I would be honored. A Low has never been so favored. Others choose as they may, but I will remain in your service until my death.”
His pronouncement was contagious, and the other four jumped to pledge their loyalty.
“I’ll take Snip, Rot, and Pustule,” Dar announced. “Hack, you go with Radl. He’s your superior for the time being, so I don’t want to hear any shit about refusing orders or backstabbing. Got it?”
“Got it,” Hack squeaked, saluting Dar with a ragged wing.
I smiled at Dar in gratitude. I knew it wouldn’t be easy for him to handle two fractious elven kingdoms as well as keeping tabs on three rowdy demons. I knew he’d also be overseeing Radl and Hack as they worked in Li. All that should be enough to keep his mind busy, and away from imagining what Ahriman would be doing to me.
“Thank you all,” I announced. “After the integration is complete, Dar will be the head of my household until the end of my contract as Consort. I hope to see you all then.”
Hope. Depression edged its way onto the edges of my mind like a shadow, but I pushed it back. I had to stay alive—for my remaining household members, for the humans I’d worked so hard to free, for Wyatt and my friends, and for my angel. Most of all, for my angel.
27
Why here? I thought the Ruling Council met in Aaru,” Tura asked, looking uncomfortable as he gazed around the room.
Besides Gabriel, the only others present were humans, setting up coffee, donuts, and flip charts. The angels would arrive fashionably late, making an entrance and giving their guest plenty of time to squirm with building anxiety.
“We began meeting outside of Aaru to accommodate the Iblis.” Gabriel fought to keep his attention on the other angel and not the tray of pastries next to the coffee urns. Ruling Council meetings weren’t nearly as much fun without the imp’s disruptive presence.
“Will she be here, too?” Tura picked up a coffee cup and casually filled it with the dark liquid.
It would be just like her to show up unexpected, crashing through the door half naked with a fist full of lightning bolts. A part of Gabriel wished she would. “No. She is attending to urgent business in Hel at the moment.”
Tura nodded, a look of relief in his eyes as he turned toward the chairs before halting abruptly. Gabriel knew right away what he was thinking. There were seven chairs around the huge table, and even with the absence of the Iblis, it was quite clear that Tura was meant to stand. As if on cue, the other angels arrived and promptly took their respective seats.
“There is some business we need to attend to first. I’m sure you understand,” Gabriel told the angel beside him. “I’ll introduce you when we’re ready.”
It was all part of the elaborate ritual to make it quite clear to Tura where he stood in relation to the other angels in the room, that no matter how important he felt his project was, it ranked somewhere below determining process steps for grade secession candidates. This was a dance Gabriel had done his entire life, yet he suddenly felt irritated with the delay. Impatient. Let’s just get this over with.
Of course they would not discuss anything of significance with a non-member in attendance. Four hours were filled with inane discussion and obscure diagrams while Tura stood, remarkably composed, fingering the cup holding cold coffee.
Finally Gabriel nodded Tura forward, and he approached without introduction. In spite of the fact that all this was meant to rattle him, the angel appeared confident; the picture of balance and order.
“For too long, Aaru has suffered from lack of creation. I present to you a way to bring new life to the angelic host. Using donated demon essence brokered through the humans and elves, we can invigorate our homeland and once again enjoy positive evolution and increased vibration.”
With a wave of his hand, six tubes of swirling green arched through the air. As if synchronized, the seated angels each reached up to catch one. It was a bold move. One broken tube, demon essence all over the floor, and Tura would look like a cocky fool.
“These are samples, to show you that this isn’t just a theory. We are ready to begin today. With the Ruling Council’s approval, of course.”
The angels studied the green tubes and silence stretched on. Gabriel watched their faces intently for reaction. Was this truly as Tura had said, or was there more to his sin than violations of the treaty?”
“Plague and warmongering,” Uriel finally spoke, her brow creased with a frown. “These are not exactly traits I would wish in an offspring, although the contributing demon is of a suitably high level.”
Gabriel winced. Contributing demon. More like butchered victim.
“Ancient Revered One, Angel of Prophecy, plague traits are also healing ones, and warmongering is a mirror to peace. With the appropriate contribution of Order, these undesirable qualities will be transformed.”
“Or hidden.” They all turned toward the eldest among them. “How many times have we declared an Angel of Order, only to realize our error a century later? It’s only through trust in our breeding partners that we achieve the results we both truly desire.”
“But we’re not here to discuss breeding partners.” Baradel chimed in. “That is forever lost to us. This may be a dim shadow of what we used to have, but it’s worth considering.”
“We have to do something,” Raphael added. “Uriel may be the Angel of Prophecies, but I see an Aaru rotting from the inside out, and I fear for our future. This may seem cold and sterile, but I agree that it’s worth consideration.”
“The process is unconventional,” Tura chimed in. “But the result will be the same as we had before the war—creation. New angels will bring vitality back to Aaru. There will be no violation of our treaty, no sinful contact, and our offspring will be identical to those created through conventional breeding.”
There was silence as the angels examined the tubes. Gabriel sat his down on the table, unable to stand holding it any longer. Let the future of Aaru be what it may, he couldn’t give his vote to such a project.
Uriel caressed the tube of green, a look of longing in her eyes. “I vote we approve the premise and proceed to discussions of the methods of collection and formation.”
Baradel, Sidriel, and Raphael nodded, and the eldest shrugged. “I’ll reserve judgment until I know more.”
Tura waved a hand and a stack of papers appeared before each angel. “These detail the collection process and the formation process at a high level. There is also a proposed screening document for applicants as well as a list of testing mechanisms to ensure the resulting offspring are suitable in quality and type.”
Raphael stabbed a finger on one of the pages. “The flow chart that shows the acquisition process for the demon essence is rather lengthy. Is there a chain of custody procedure to guarantee nothing has been tampered with? Can you illustrate the quality control and security at each hand-off point?”
“The appendix, page six-hundred-and-twenty-three through nine-hundred-and-fifty outlines those details.”
They all flipped to the back pages, quickly scanning the dense text and diagrams.
“The formation section is unacceptably vague,” the eldest noted. Gabriel bit back a smile, realizing his brother had echoed his own words.
Tura smiled serenely, a small, clear box a
ppearing in his hands. “If you wish to study the mechanism for formation, you are welcome to do so. It is a product of sorcery—elven and human magic combined. I documented the basic workings of the item, but due to its magical nature, there are some functions not easily explained.”
Uriel reached for the box, examining it with eager hands while her older brother scowled.
“What happens if the offspring is defective in some way? With traditional breeding, that was never a possibility, but a magical device lacks sentience. What shall we do with unanticipated results?”
Tura looked wary. “There will be no broken angels. The magic is of the highest quality and level. Errors are not possible.”
“But what about Angels of Chaos,” Rafael broke in, giving the box a hopeful look. “That’s one factor that’s always been up to fate. Under the rules of the treaty, we cannot allow an Angel of Chaos in Aaru, but I would damn myself to Hel before I tossed away a helpless, newly formed angel.”
“There will only be Angels of Order produced,” Tura assured confidently. “Guaranteed.”
“There are no guarantees,” the eldest interjected. “I’ve seen many Angels of Order with chaos traits, and those close to the median are most likely to straddle both worlds. If Raphael would sooner die than throw away a newly formed angel, think how he would feel after a hundred years when hidden traits manifest? Think how any angel would feel.”
“We could make provisions for that unlikely scenario,” Tura said. “At one hundred, they could live elsewhere, protected and sheltered until they were able to live in Hel like they are meant to.”
Baradel and Sidriel nodded. Uriel did nothing but stare at the vial of green before her and the plain, crystal box.