Demonkin

by T. Eric Bakutis

  Kara gasped, fire filling her veins. This really hurt. She focused on breathing and keeping herself upright. They had to do this correctly.

  Sera stepped back, eyes stark black. Blood pooled between them as Kara's knees trembled. Nausea filled her as their world flashed so bright it made Kara squint. A crimson shape stood before her.

  The corpse was shaped like her, at least in silhouette, but its flesh was instead bubbling blood, rippling and swirling amidst thick shadow. It was like a person without skin, a fleshless demon ripped straight from the Underside. Kara felt a chill to her very bones.

  “Where did you learn that?” Kara whispered.

  Anylus's blood doll was a physical presence, pumping with Kara's own blood. It looked to Sera for guidance. Just like the desiccated davenger she had made in Highridge Pass, when she damned her soul to save Kara’s.

  “Head southwest.” Sera's eyes were her own again, clear and green. “Walk and keep walking until you expire.”

  The blood doll shambled off. Kara watched it go and dug her bloody fingers into her bloody palms. How could she trust Anylus now? Where had he learned to scribe demon glyphs?

  “My grandfather was Demonkin,” Anylus said softly. “He died in the All Province War.”

  Chapter 24

  KARA SAT AND SERA sat beside her. They stared at each other without speaking. What they had just done had shocked them both.

  Sera scribed healing glyphs on Kara's wrists, and Kara felt her flesh stitching together. It felt like a bony fish spine slicing through her arms, knitting as it went. When Sera finished Kara dropped her arms and shook them, ignoring the itch. The ground swayed beneath her.

  “Your grandfather was a Tassaun?” Byn sat as well, still pale from seeing the blood doll. “Then how—”

  “No,” Anylus said. “My grandfather hailed from Rillan. Olan Anylus served with Lared Pavel's detachment. His unit was cut off in the battle for Toroia and trapped in a small fort by Tassaun soldiers. Olan commanded over four hundred souls, all of whom were going to die.”

  Kara had never known Anylus's grandfather fought in the All Province War, nor had she known Olan Anylus was Demonkin. She would listen to Anylus before she judged him. He deserved that.

  “The night before they were all to be slaughtered by Tassauns, Olan's soldiers captured a Demonkin mage. Olan forced the man to show him the glyph that made davengers, then used that glyph on the corpses of his men. It was the only way to save his living soldiers.”

  Sera shuddered against Kara's side. Sera had done the same thing in Highridge Pass, scribing demon glyphs on a corpse to save Kara and her friends. Doing so damned the caster, but harmed no other soul.

  “Olan's plan worked,” Anylus said. “Even weak with decay, those davengers shattered the Tassaun lines. Olan got almost four hundred souls to safety, people who rejoined Lared Pavel’s lines just in time to meet Torn. Torn had just returned from victory at Blackpoint.”

  “Blackpoint was part of the line of fortresses that protected Falkan, wasn't it?” Byn asked.

  “That's right,” Anylus said, “and when the Tassauns pulled back to protect their capital, Torn led his forces to Terras instead. He ended the war and unleashed the spectral storms, but before that, Torn met my grandfather. He knew how Olan had escaped. Torn executed him.”

  Byn glanced at Kara and grimaced, his meaning clear.

  “One word, sung, destroyed my grandfather,” Anylus said. “Just like Torn's spectral storms destroyed everyone in Metla Tassau, Demonkin and mortal alike.”

  “It was tragic, yes,” Kara said, forcing the anger from her voice, “but there were thousands of Demonkin in Metla Tassau by then. You know that. Had Torn not stopped their spread, our world would have—”

  “I know.” Anylus raised his hands. “I do not tell you this to disparage your great-grandfather. Torn Honuron made decisions I would not wish upon anyone, and our world exists today because he did so.”

  “Yet Torn executed your grandfather as Demonkin.” Kara had been a fool to trust Anylus while knowing so little about him. How could she trust a man who might hate her family? How could he keep this secret?

  “He murdered my grandfather,” Anylus said, “and by doing so, Torn saved Olan from a fate worse than death. Torture by the Mavoureen.”

  “You really believe that?” Byn demanded.

  “Olan knew the penalty and gave his own life to save his soldiers. That's why I learned demon glyphs, Kara. If my king ever needed me, if my province needed me, I had to be ready to sacrifice my own life to protect them. Just like my grandfather, all those years ago.”

  Kara did not buy that for a moment. Even if Anylus was sincere, he had concealed her father's pursuit and his knowledge of demon glyphs. What if Xander was not hunting her under duress? What if her parents were both on their way to save her, and Anylus wanted her dead?

  “Sera,” Kara said, “I need you to test Anylus.”

  “How?” Sera asked.

  “I appreciate all you've done for me,” Kara said, turning on Anylus, “but I have to be sure you're not lying to me, about anything. Will you submit to questioning by a Bloodmender?”

  “If that will make you feel better, I will answer anything you ask.”

  “It will make me feel better.” The fact that he agreed so easily was a good sign, so Kara squeezed Sera's hand. “Tell me if he's lying.”

  Sera glanced at her. “Lying about what?”

  “Anything.” Kara felt a tinge of guilt as Anylus stared at them, calm and understanding, but their souls were at stake. “Ready?”

  “Yes.” Sera closed her eyes and took the dream world.

  Kara took it as well. She did not have the keen understanding of dream world anatomy afforded a Bloodmender, but it was about time she learned. Perhaps by observing Sera, she could learn to detect lies herself.

  In the dream world Anylus appeared as a thick orange blob, as did Sera and Byn. The ground was a network of interlocking black lines and the night sky was yellow and free of stars. Yet Kara could draw no additional detail. She simply didn't have the skill or training.

  “Anylus,” Kara asked, “do you serve the Mavoureen?”

  “I do not,” Anylus said.

  Kara saw nothing that suggested a lie, but that proved nothing. She hoped Sera was watching closely.

  “Why are you here?” Kara asked.

  “To ensure you reach Knoll Point. To ensure the Demonkin don't bring through any more Mavoureen.”

  Sera leaned close to Kara's ear. “He's telling the truth, so far as I can see.”

  “Is my father really held captive by King Haven?” Kara asked.

  “Yes.”

  “And my mother's at Tarna?”

  “I cannot be certain of that, but it makes sense. I know how King Haven thinks, and using your mother to motivate your father is something he would do. It is something I would do, in his place.”

  Kara realized how tightly she clutched Sera's hand and made herself relax. “Why did you free me at Tarna?” She did not want to hurt Sera.

  “Because I knew you had a better chance to stop the Mavoureen out here than in a cell.” Anylus's tone softened. “Because even after teaching you for only a few weeks, I've seen how resourceful and talented you are. The story of Terras only confirmed it. I believe that together, we can stop them.”

  “It's all truth.” Sera squeezed Kara's hand. “Every bit of it.”

  Kara sagged, relief flooding through her. What would she do without Sera? How could she let Sera kill herself? She had to save Sera, and Trell, and everyone else, and she could do that ... with Anylus's help.

  Kara dropped the dream world and walked over to her teacher, her friend. “I'm sorry.” She felt the exhaustion of a week on the road, days of being unable to relax or stop looking over her shoulder. “I had to know.”

  Anylus smiled at her. “And now you do.”

  “We'll finish this together.” Kara clasped Anylus's hands and looked to her loy
al friends. “We'll smash these Demonkin and close their gate.”

  “And Xander?” Byn wrapped an arm around Sera. “Do we rescue him after we deal with these Demonkin?”

  Kara pictured her father's bearded face, remembered the way he had smiled as they developed Ona's cure. He was a good man. He would forgive her for leaving him with the Mynt when she told him why she did it.

  “After we deal with these Demonkin,” Kara said, “we won't have to rescue Xander, or Ona, or anyone. Because then, King Haven will know we were right.”

  JYLLITH MALCONEN WOKE FIVE HOURS before dawn. This might be her only chance to slip into Divad's study unattended. The other Demonkin slept all around her, and they had no way of knowing the extent of Divad's plan. Unfortunately, they wouldn't believe her if she told them.

  Jyllith slipped from her bed, listening to quiet snores. Divad did not sleep among his cultists — he slept upstairs — and Spike guarded those stairs. She wasn't using the stairs.

  Jyllith walked to the door leading out of the cabin and took the dream world, scribing Aerial glyphs. She drew the air from the closed door and the heavy bar, forming a vacuum bubble. Without air there was no sound, and she needed silence this night.

  Jyllith tied off her glyphs and stepped into the bubble of vacuum, holding her breath as she lifted the bar and soundlessly set it aside. She opened the door, stepped out, and closed it just as quietly. She knitted the bubble back together slowly, without any thunder. That was satisfying.

  All that waited was the journey to the second floor, and that was no challenge for an Aerial. Jyllith crept around the building until she found the window of Divad's study. She scribed a Hand of Breath and catapulted herself to the second floor. She drew the air away from the wall, landing silently inside another vacuum bubble.

  Jyllith used her Hand of Breath to hold herself as she struggled with the shutters, opened them, and then only glass remained. She expanded the vacuum bubble to encompass the window and then shattered it with a gloved punch. She slipped inside and closed the bubble, crouching as she waited for her eyes to adjust.

  Papers rustled in the new wind, but nothing else stirred. Jyllith searched for Divad — she would need to kill him before he woke — but his single bed remained empty. He must have slipped out some time in the night, and that worried her. Still, no turning back now.

  Divad's absence presented an opportunity to examine the glyph scroll he had shown her days ago, the one detailing how to open a gate to the Underside. While Jyllith waited for him to return, she would take a closer look. Perhaps she could find some way to sabotage Divad's glyphs.

  Jyllith unrolled the scroll and flattened it on Divad's desk with spread hands. She stared at the elegant, spiky glyphs. Unbidden, Hecata's words at the portal beneath Knoll Point came to her anew.

  “What you seek is not what you will find. You already know the truth of things. You read it in a book. Remember this, and you will please me.”

  Jyllith suddenly realized why these glyphs bothered her. The links and turns were familiar, the width of each line and the way they were painted, but these were not demon glyphs. These were the same type of glyphs she had seen winding around the edges of Wards Against the Alcedi, the book she had discovered in the library at Terras.

  “I hoped you understood,” Divad said.

  Jyllith spun, but a blast of air tossed her into the desk before she could scribe anything. She cracked her head so hard she stopped thinking, and when she started again Spike had her pinned to the floor. The davenger smelled like coal and fresh blood.

  “I prayed I was wrong about you,” Divad said, somewhere above her. “But no deity has ever answered my prayers.”

  “Wait,” Jyllith whispered. “I'm not—”

  “I knew I could not trust Hecata,” Divad said. “She suspected my sympathies toward the Alcedi, and I honestly don't know how I fooled her for so long. But you fooled her, didn't you? Or did you?”

  Jyllith gasped as Spike crushed her into the wooden floor, as splinters and dirt tore at her cheek. Demonic drool coated the back of her hair. The glyphs on that scroll were Alcedi, and they did open a gate.

  Divad's gate led to the Teranome, the place spoken of in the tome she had showed Melyssa at Terras. A world filled with golden monsters. Just as Elder Cantrall had believed, the Alcedi were preparing to invade.

  “I know now why Hecata lied to me about you.” Divad knelt beside her. “She fears the Alcedi, hates them, and wants our world for herself.” Divad brushed Jyllith's cheek. “She sent you to undo me.”

  “Listen, you idiot!” Jyllith struggled against Spike. “Cantrall knew about these Alcedi, about their invasion. They terrified him!”

  “Rumors spread by the Mavoureen,” Divad said. “You've seen how those demons reward their servants. The Alcedi are benevolent protectors and they will protect us. So long as we worship them, we live free.”

  Jyllith trembled beneath Spike's bulk, struggling to move, because she had to do something. Divad sounded so reverent that he terrified her. He sounded just like Cantrall when he praised the brutal Mavoureen.

  “I did not lie when I said I would bring peace to our world.” Divad's voice swelled with emotion. “The Alcedi shall rule us with order and justice, morality and compassion, and no mortal will ever suffer again.”

  Jyllith got one hand free. Spike slammed a meaty palm on her hand before she could scribe any glyph, crushing her fingers. She screamed.

  Bare feet thundered on the stairs as Divad's cultists filled the room. Xel smiled when he saw her pinned, and Rala pursed her lips. Calun trembled.

  “What is going—” Calun began, but Rala shushed him.

  “She betrayed us,” Rala told Calun. “She's working for the Mavoureen.”

  “Don't listen to him!” Jyllith shouted. “He's—”

  Spike's bulky hand clamped over Jyllith's mouth, crushing her lips against her teeth. She gnawed on demonic flesh, glaring at them.

  “I don't understand.” Calun swallowed. “Aren't we all working for the Mavoureen?”

  Xel's thin body shook with laughter. “Divad, really.” He wiped a tear from his eye. “Why do we keep him around?”

  “Hold her,” Divad told Spike, before walking over to Calun. “Listen to me.” Divad placed hands on Calun's shoulders. “Jyllith lied to you.”

  Calun stared up at Divad and then at Jyllith. “She's not evil. She's our friend.” He bit his lip. “She should not go to demon jail.”

  “Jyllith only pretended to be our friend,” Divad said, “and there's more. The Mavoureen are no saviors. They want only to devour us.”

  “What?” Calun stepped back and trembled, pointing an accusatory finger at Divad. “No! The Mavoureen will save us, bring us peace. You said!” He looked at Xel, who grinned wickedly. “They don't torture people!”

  Jyllith shouted a muffled curse through Spike's hand. So Divad had told his cultists the true plan all along, about the Alcedi. He never trusted her. He lied about needing her, made himself vulnerable, and trapped her.

  She really was not a very good spy.

  “Our true saviors are the Alcedi, Calun,” Divad said, “and they do not torture or devour souls. They will protect our world and everyone in it.”

  Calun looked at Xel, who leered, and Rala, who smiled. And Divad, who just watched. Calun looked at Jyllith, and she knew then exactly what he planned to do. She fought and shook her head.

  Calun closed his eyes and raised one bloody finger.

  Xel slammed his serrated knife into Calun's back. The boy stiffened, eyes wide, and his single glyph faded as fresh blood pumped from his open mouth. Jyllith screamed against Spike's paw. Her heart pounded like it had the night she listened to her mother die.

  Xel ripped out his dagger and Calun collapsed, coughing blood all over the cabin floor. Jyllith remembered her mother's shattered head, Marel's hanging eye. Her family slaughtered like livestock.

  Divad frowned at Xel. “I did not say to kill hi
m.”

  “He killed himself.” Xel wiped his knife on his nightclothes. “You saw him attempting to scribe. I solved the problem you would not.”

  Jyllith stared as Calun breathed his last, convulsing no more. His wide eyes went distant, then blank. She took comfort in the fact that Calun, at least, would never be sacrificed to the Mavoureen or the Alcedi. She took comfort in that fact because the others crushed her.

  Divad knelt by Calun's body and passed a hand over his eyes. “Find peace, my son.” He stood and stared at Jyllith. “This is your fault.”

  Jyllith glared through her stupid tears. When she got free of this davenger, she would tear Divad's spine out through his own throat. She would make him pay for all the lives he had destroyed.

  “Xel,” Divad said, “summon your defiler.”

  “We're not killing her?” Rala walked to Jyllith and produced her own blade. “I would enjoy killing her. She planned to murder us in our sleep.”

  “Jyllith only did what she thought was right,” Divad said, “and I would have her live to see the grace of the Alcedi. She's suffered as we have, lost her family as we did. I want her to see our wonderful new world.”

  Divad sounded so much like Cantrall that it took Jyllith back to a time when she was broken, sad, alone. Cantrall had made her feel like family after murdering her family. She had failed Melyssa and Calun. Failed everyone.

  Yet as Jyllith stared at Calun's still body, Rala's wide grin, and Xel's smirk, rage overcame guilt and pain and shame. She would make these people suffer. She would kill them all and save her world.

  Somehow.

  “Chain her down in the mine,” Divad said. “No one will find her before we open the portal. After we summon the Alcedi, we’ll release her.” Divad smiled at her. “You will finally understand true bliss.”

  Rala sheathed her knife. “Tomorrow you'll thank me, you ungrateful bitch. I hope you know how to apologize.”