Demonkin

by T. Eric Bakutis

  Sera wondered if there were any sappy love poems in the Imperial library about that.

  The stairs descended without end, winding around and around until Sera lost track of how deep they might be. Just how vast a network of tunnels existed beneath the Imperial library? Sera almost asked the demon inside her, then bit her tongue instead.

  If only she could tell Byn about the demon speaking in her head, warn him and Kara of the danger! Yet Sera could not speak of the voice. The demon would not let her, and that was why she had decided to lie to her friends tonight.

  At least the demon could not read her mind ... at least not yet. It could only hear what she thought directly to it, and Sera had to take permanent action before that changed. Before it knew everything.

  The stairs ended. Sera scribed and unlocked another door, this one ancient and iron. “We're here.” She hurried in before hesitation could make anyone suspicious.

  Flaryen lit the musty interior of a circular room with walls of wet brown stone. Kara shut the small door and closed them inside a perfect circle — perfect, Sera knew, because perfection was necessary for the grim rituals Mynt's mages conducted after the All Province War.

  “Torches.” Sera pointed to four sticks set into wall holders. “They'll only light with phantom fire. Light three and bring the last one to me.”

  Byn grasped a torch with one hand. He pulled against its rusted bracket again, and again. His muscular arm trembled.

  “Here.” Sera pressed her slim body against Byn’s and wrapped an arm around his waist. She slid her other arm down the length of his. She gripped the torch and tugged it free.

  Byn hung his head and Sera bit back frustration. She kissed his ear, his cheek. She lifted his chin with two fingers and kissed him gently on the mouth. She kissed him until Kara's feet shifted on the stone.

  “Everything you've lost,” Sera whispered, “you gave up for Kara, and for me.” She squeezed Byn's hand. “We'd never think less of you for that and I love you, Byn Meris, with all my heart.”

  Byn smiled. It lit up her world. Sera took the torch from Byn, ignited it with Flaryen, and filled the circular room with flickering white light. Sera gave Kara a glance and pointed to the other torches.

  Kara lit torches one after the other, mouth a firm line. Sera reminded herself why she was lying so much. Kara and Byn thought tonight's glyph would cure Sera of her Demonkin curse, and it would ... in a sense.

  “The glyphing ritual is straightforward but complex.” Sera sat with knees spread in the center of the room as Byn held a torch near the ceiling. “It begins with the contact mage ... that will be you tonight, Kara ... scribing a containment glyph around the soul to be cleansed. Me.”

  Kara nodded. “Where do I begin?”

  Sera reached into her dress pocket and pulled out a single page of fresh parchment. She flattened it on the floor so they could all see the patterns.

  “I copied this from one of the tomes Melyssa sent us here to retrieve. I didn't want to damage the original.” In truth, Sera did not want Byn or Kara to read the dire warnings surrounding the original glyph. “Use the magesand you brought to make the containment glyph shown here.”

  Kara examined the page in the even light of the phantom fire torches. Sera calmed herself with deep breaths. They would believe her.

  “I've got it,” Kara said.

  “While you do that,” Sera said, “I'll scribe a blood glyph in the center of the circle.” She retrieved the second, hand-copied page. “Byn, this is for you. Once we begin, you'll need to scribe your glyph along with mine, at the same rate. So memorize every line.”

  “Got it.” Byn sat down to study the page, brow furrowed and brown eyes intent.

  Sera smiled as she watched him. Some might think Byn's large farmer frame made him slow and ignorant, but those people were idiots. Byn would follow the instructions without error because he was a mage of Solyr, and a good one. He soon handed the page back.

  “The execution is the most straightforward part,” Sera said, “but also the most difficult and precise. Kara, you must start the containment glyph at the same time Byn and I start the glyphs at its center. Just move along at a steady pace. We'll follow your scribing with ours.”

  “This glyph will cure you?” Byn asked.

  “Of course.” It was harder to lie when she looked into Byn's eyes, so she didn't. “It's a mirror, love. We'll mirror each other's scribing as Kara encircles us from without, and then I'll be safe from this Demonkin curse.” That was the truth, shaded as it must be.

  “Foolish lies,” the demon whispered, yet Sera detected something else in its tone. “Our union is not a curse, but a blessing.” Was it nervous? “Embrace me, child.”

  Sera looked to Kara. “Ready?”

  “Ready.” Kara stuck a steel spout in a hole in the jar of magesand and prepared to pour. “Give the word.”

  Sera's thumbnail cut her index finger. Once her blood welled up sufficiently, she glanced at Byn. His finger bled as well.

  “On three,” Sera said, “we begin. One. Two. Three.”

  As Sera and Byn scribed Kara poured a line of magesand, glowing orange inside the dream world. Years of study at Solyr allowed Sera to forget everything as she scribed, seeing the complex glyph in her mind. Kara's pouring matched Sera's scribing as, along with Byn, they completed a circular glyph of interlocking lines. Once they finished, Sera ignited it.

  The containment glyph glowed bright red.

  Chapter 5

  SERA KNEW THE TIME FOR LIES was over. The glyph was scribed, the deed done. Her father would understand.

  “What,” Kara whispered, “did we just do?”

  “I didn't tell you what this glyph would do because I was afraid of how you'd react. But know this. I'm safe.”

  Byn cursed. “This won't break your curse, will it?”

  “I did it for you, both of you, and our world. It was the only way I knew to keep you all safe.”

  “Will this kill you?” Kara demanded.

  “Not tonight. It will kill me two weeks from now, if I'm not cured. I'll die before I turn into a demon.”

  Byn gripped her wrist as hard as he could manage, a decent grip. “How do we remove it?” His eyes were wide.

  “Together. You can break the glyph if I let you, but we must both agree.” Sera rested her other hand on top of his. “Once I'm cured, we'll break it together, but if we can't find a cure ... I won't turn.”

  Kara sat down hard. “Why didn't you tell me?”

  “I wasn't sure you'd agree with me. I won't risk hurting anyone. I won't let myself become a demon.”

  “Foolish girl.” The demon inside her hissed. “Why waste your life?” It was angry and that gave her hope.

  Sera looked to Byn. “I wanted to tell you, love, but I didn't think you could keep it from Kara, even if you tried. You're not the best at lying.”

  Byn drew her into his arms and Sera pressed against him. He understood. He loved her. They fit together so well. The thought of losing him forever made her breath catch in her throat.

  Kara rubbed her eyes. “Why make me do this?”

  Byn nuzzled Sera's hair and rested his chin on her head. “Because she's not certain we can find a way to fix her.” He squeezed Sera tight. “I get it, honey. You couldn't find a cure in the tomes Melyssa asked you to retrieve. Instead you found this, and you estimated how long it would take before the Mavoureen stole your soul.”

  “Melyssa estimated.” A single tremble shook Sera's frame. “I confirmed it. We have two weeks.”

  “That's not enough time!” Kara hopped up and glared at them. “We can't find a cure in two weeks!”

  Sera pushed off Byn and stood. “Melyssa has been searching since we left Terras. Maybe she's found something.” Sera grabbed Byn's hand. “If there is a cure for the Demonkin curse, it has to be there.”

  “How can you know that?”

  “If the cure was in the libraries of Solyr, or Lunyr, or Tarna or Vortos, someone
would have found it by now.”

  “And if you don't find it at Terras,” Kara said, “you'll die.”

  “Yes. I'll die, even if we miscalculated, before I can harm anyone or devour any innocent souls.”

  Cold clutched at Sera even as she held Byn's warm hand. Her demon scratched at the inside of her mind. “If there was anyone else I could trust—”

  “Enough.” Byn led Sera to the door and gripped Kara's shoulder. “We can't be angry with her. This was the only way.”

  “I know.” Kara threw her arms around them with a quiet cry. “Five take me, I know. We can't risk what might happen. You saw that even if I didn't.”

  They hugged each other and Sera no longer felt cold. She felt safe and warm and protected, at least until Kara let them go. Time was precious now.

  “We leave tonight.” Sera focused on walking, breathing. “Byn's already made arrangements for horses. We have the coin you gave us.”

  “That Adept Anylus gave me.” Kara looked at the floor. “I stole it like I stole that magesand.”

  “You're doing the right thing. Just remember—”

  “I know.” Kara's mouth quirked. “I won't betray you. It's not the first time I've lied to everyone.”

  Sera almost smiled. Kara had kept her Transference glyph secret for years, from her mother and everyone else. Kara would never betray them.

  “Thank you. If Byn and I find a cure—”

  “When.” Byn poked her.

  “When we find a cure,” Sera agreed, so he wouldn't worry about her, “we'll turn ourselves in. Anylus will be too curious about how we cured it to execute us.”

  “Let's hope.” Byn brushed Sera's hair from her ear. “I like your head right where it is.”

  “That's not funny.” Sera gave his hand a warning squeeze. “You be careful, Kara. Watch over Trell. War makes people do stupid things.”

  “Don't worry about me.” Kara stepped away from the door. “I'm the reason you're in this mess.”

  “You're the reason the Mavoureen did not devour our world a week ago. You're a hero.”

  “I'm never going to see you again, am I?” A tear rolled down Kara's cheek.

  “Don't say that!” Byn grabbed Kara's shoulders and pulled her close. “Everyone's being so dramatic. It's stupid! We'll find the cure, break the glyph, and go sailing outside Boon. Like old times.”

  Fresh tears welled from Kara’s eyes.

  “I swear to you,” Byn said softly. “We'll come back.”

  “Go then.” Kara wiped her nose and kissed Byn's cheek. “Go before I change my mind.” She shoved him. “Go before I punch you.”

  “I'm going. We're going.” Byn took Sera's hand and led her up the stairs, and Sera let herself be led. “We'll see you soon. Promise.”

  Sera put one foot before the other and focused on the letter she would write to her father, tonight. Dared Valence would understand why she had scribed this glyph. He would mourn her, but he would understand.

  “Don't be so certain of death, sweet child.” Her demon whispered in the darkness of the stairwell. “We still have a very long journey ahead.”

  Sera clenched Byn's hand. As much as she had hoped tonight would feel like a victory against the demon inside her, all she felt was cold.

  ARYN LOCKE WOKE to a feeling he had hoped never to experience again. Impossible hate. A demon had broken the warding bubble Aryn placed around Tania's house. It was less than a hundred paces away.

  He rolled out of the cot in Tania’s spare room and reached for his quarterstaff. Even as he stood a dream form slipped soundlessly into his room, so silent he flinched before he recognized her. “You felt it?”

  “I did.” Tania already had her quarterstaff strapped across her back. “I saw no reason to trust in a single bubble. Is it here for you?”

  Her steady voice held no hysteria, no accusation. She did not blame him for this demon’s arrival. She simply wanted to know.

  “I don't think so. I've seen no demons since...” Aryn felt knives tearing his skin and shuddered. “They've no reason to hunt me. Not anymore.”

  “Then it must be here for me. If you head due north, you'll find Dane soon enough. Warn them. I'll do what I can to stop this demon here.”

  “I'm not letting you face that monster alone.”

  “You've experience fighting demons?” Tania led him to her front door, the only wooden part of her home. She had formed the rest of it with Earther glyphs, elegant and precise work that would make an elder proud.

  “I know enough,” Aryn said.

  “And what will you do to stop a demon?”

  “I'll give you my blood.” If he channeled his blood through her, she could make her glyphs that much stronger. “If nothing else, I'll give you that.”

  Tania cracked her door and peered out. “There's no shame in running.”

  “I've run enough.” Aryn clasped her hand and found it pleasantly warm. “I'm open to you.”

  “I'll take no more than I need.”

  “If you don't take all you need to kill that demon, we're both dead. I've endured worse.”

  Tania led him outside, still holding his hand. “I imagine you have.” The door closed behind them.

  The night was cool, dry, and silent. Aryn focused his dream world vision and watched the twisted green form of a davenger crest a rise to the south. It strolled toward them like one traveler greeting another on a summer's day.

  Davengers were hunters that took many forms. Some, like the davengers Jyllith made as she hunted Kara, were ape-like monstrosities. Others were demon hounds with tracking abilities beyond anything that lived. The books in his father’s forbidden library even spoke of davengers who could fly.

  This demon didn't match any of those. It had legs like an ape, horns like a hound, and a head like a massive owl. It stood twice as tall as he did.

  Tania slammed the tip of her quarterstaff into the ground, drawing blood from Aryn’s body through their joined hands. She scribed powerful glyphs down the length of her staff, and glyphs were one detail Aryn could see in the dream world. His body ached as his blood burned.

  The davenger demon sauntered closer, each step as quiet as a cat's. Nothing should move like that, demon or no. Tania finished scribing.

  “Wait,” the davenger said.

  “I'd rather not.” Tania ignited her glyphs.

  A sinkhole opened beneath the davenger. It tumbled inside and rock slammed together above it. Invisible needles poked Aryn’s veins as earth moved. Tania channeled blood like a Solyr elder.

  Finally, Tania released his hand. Together, they stared at the rocky boil on the hill, all that remained of that terrifying davenger. An unexpected grin spread across Aryn’s face. “Drown me. You killed it.”

  “Well.” Tania shrugged. “Every so often I—”

  The demon burst from the earth and knocked Tania flying with a swipe of its long arm. She landed paces away and went still. The demon snorted and shook its head like a dog that had stumbled into a prickly plant.

  Aryn smashed the davenger's head with his quarterstaff. It felt like hitting oak and the impact numbed his arms. The demon snatched his staff, snapped it like a twig, and tossed it aside.

  Aryn backed away, frowning. He had rather liked that staff. He scribed four Fingers of Heat and covered his hand in rippling flame, but he didn't send them at the davenger. They were a bluff.

  His weak flames would not even singe the demon's scales, but it did not know that. Until it figured that out, they had a standoff. He hoped.

  “You are Aryn Locke,” the ape/hound/owl said in a raspy voice. “You are Heat's Champion.”

  “Once upon a time.” Aryn had not known davengers could talk, but he had not known they could stroll or burrow, either.

  He backed down the hill. He had to draw this demon away from Tania. If he gave her time to recover, perhaps she could...

  “We faced the Five beneath Terras.” The davenger matched his pace. “Remember? You wielded Hea
t's flame, and Life's Champion dueled Abaddon with his sword of ice.”

  “That's right.” Aryn bared his charred teeth and hoped that appeared threatening. “Trell cleaved your general right in half.”

  “You misunderstand. We are Mavoureen. For us there is no death, only change.”

  “Your general looked pretty dead to me.” Aryn glanced behind him. Clear ground, clumps of wildflowers, and a few stubborn trees. Nowhere to hide and impossible to run.

  “The forms you fought at Terras ... they were shells, not Mavoureen. Like you. Do you understand?”

  “Sure.” So long as Aryn kept it talking, it would not make him dead. “When a Demonkin glyphs you on some poor bastard, you're just here until that body dies. Then back to the Underside you go.”

  “I remember you.” The davenger flexed its hands. “When Balazel tormented you, he gave you to me for a time.”

  What few memories Melyssa had not wiped away came rushing back: the knives, the flames, the Underside. Aryn shuddered but forced himself to remember how he had escaped, pulled himself through fire and torment to return to the living world. Changed, charred, but alive.

  “I survived your worst.” They were fifty paces from Tania. “I think I might have grabbed you in the Ranarok mountains and tossed you away like trash, while I was on fire.” Aryn shrugged off his hood and stopped backing up, smiling at the demon. “Shall we try that again?”

  His heart hammered in his chest. This was lunacy. He did not wield Heat's power and he no longer had Balazel's strength. Yet here he stood, acting as confident as if he were the incarnation of Heat himself. Smiling.

  He was going to die a bloody fool.

  The davenger tilted its owl-like head. “I seek no quarrel with you, Aryn Locke.”

  Well. That was something.

  “I have come under flag of parley to extend an invitation. Paymon, my master, invites you to his realm. I am to escort you to the Underside.”