by Gail Dayton
"Oh. Right.” Kallista couldn't see the demon any longer, but she could smell the stink it left behind. She furled out a bit of magic and sank it like a fishhook in the demon's side. The demon would destroy the magic before long, but while it lasted, the spell would tell her where the demon went.
"Up you go.” Torchay started to boost Padrey onto the horse behind Kallista, but she waved them off.
"The link's formed,” she said. “Already. Emergency situation, I suppose. Or I didn't wait too long before the binding, or something."
"Good.” Torchay tossed Padrey onto the nearest unoccupied horse just as the six-marked champion came into the street to block Kallista's path.
"Get out of my way.” She urged her horse forward.
The champion caught her reins, refusing to back down. “What has happened here? What have you done?"
"Found one of the demons that have been corrupting Daryath. And it's getting away."
"What is getting away? What madness is this?” The man tightened his hold on the horse's head.
"Truth, not madness. The One's marks are real. Demons are real. There was a demon in possession of Habadra Chani—can you understand that? It rode her. Twisted her. And now it's left her.” Kallista paused as a thought bubbled through her narrow demon-aimed focus. “Is Chani dead? Sometimes when a demon leaves, it leaves the person dead. I didn't kill her."
"No.” The champion sounded a bit shaken. “No, not dead. Demons are real?"
"If you had any magic, I would show you. Yes, they are real, and that one is getting away.” She stabbed a finger toward Khoriseth's escape route.
"What am I going to tell the Head?” the champion muttered as he released Kallista's horse.
"That you've arrested Habadra Chani.” Kallista gathered her mount and her thoughts, and spurred them both after the demon.
Where would it be running? To its master? To the ancient evil Gweric promised was lurking here? Was she ready to face such a foe?
She had to be.
* * * *
As they raced after the fleeing demon in the bright chill of the autumn morning, their horses slipping now and again on the rounded cobbles, Kallista could sense the demon tearing at the magic hook sunk into its spirit-flesh. Desperate to rid itself of the tell-tale, it tore away bits of itself that floated a moment before merging again with the whole. Kallista formed her hunter-killer magic and sent it to make sure no bits were left behind, even as the hook came free and died.
The demon's path tended generally toward the city's center, toward the temple and the Seat of Government. Who—or what—could it be seeking there?
"Chosen!” The shout came from the lush garden behind the piles of rubble that had been temple walls, piles that shrank as people carried away the stone for their own building projects.
"Chosen of the One!” A cleric stepped out of the shadows.
"Not now,” Kallista cried. She didn't have time for anything now but following that damned demon and ripping it into nothingness. They were almost—
She called up a demon-destroying veil, named it and threw it out, hoping she'd come close enough to do the thing some damage. “Khoriseth!"
The demon vanished. Before her magic reached it, without ever touching it, Khoriseth was just ... gone. Kallista shifted her vision to see the dreamplane as well as the physical, but the demon wasn't there either. She hadn't destroyed it. There hadn't been any screaming or gnashing of metaphysical teeth. It was as if the thing had simply winked out of existence.
Had it hidden itself again?
"Fox, what do you see?” She wheeled her horse in the middle of the broad plaza.
He looked, first with his eyes open, then he closed them and seemed to look through his eyelids from one side of the vast square to the other. He shook his head as he opened his eyes again. “Nothing,” he said. “Sometimes I can use that sense you gave me with my eyes open now, but I can sense nothing. No demon-twisted people. I—” He stopped and shook his head again.
"Damn it!” Kallista added several of the choicer oaths from her soldiering days. Her horse picked up her agitation, expressed it by dancing in place.
"Chosen.” The cleric had come close enough that the horse threatened to step on her. Other clerics clustered in a knot behind her.
Shock rippled through Kallista as she realized the cleric wore a yellow robe marked with a full compass rose. The High Prelate of Daryath, a South naitan, was standing outside the temple, in a public street.
"Chosen—what was that?” The prelate's face registered shock and horror. “That thing you were chasing?"
"A demon. You saw it?” Kallista swung down to the paving and handed her reins off to whoever was there—Torchay again. “Did you see where it went? What happened to it?"
"I—no, it—it vanished. It just—vanished.” The woman's eyes were wide. “That was a demon?"
"One of them.” Kallista grimaced. “The small one. Where was it, exactly, when it vanished? Could you tell?"
The high prelate looked out over the plaza. “Exactly? I'm not—” She waved her arm toward the Seat. “That way."
Kallista huffed a little breath, hands propped on her hips. “That's all I could see too. Damn it. Now I'm going to have to go dig it out. Somehow. These things can hide from me."
The prelate looked up at Kallista. “How may we serve you? How can we help fight this demon?"
Kallista blinked in astonishment, then she grinned and startled everyone, including herself, by hugging the prelate. “Can any more of you see the demon?"
She looked at the timid naitani who clustered behind their leader. Several of them lifted their hands.
"Excellent.” Kallista clapped her hands together and rubbed them. “If you would try to discover where the demon might have gone, it would be a tremendous help. Any healers among you—demons tend to lash out without concern for who else might be hurt. Farspeakers—perhaps one with the searchers and one at the temple for communication? You shouldn't search unguarded—are there champions who might—"
"I will guard.” The justiciar's six-marked champion stepped forward.
"You're here? I thought you took your prisoner back to Chambers."
"I sent a man with her. The other stayed with our injured.” He bowed. “Thank you for the care of your medics."
"Prelate, there are injured—” Kallista began.
The high prelate signaled to one of her people who trotted off in that direction. “We have a few champions of our own."
"Then are we set?” Kallista surveyed her forces.
"What are we going to do?” Torchay asked.
"Hunt demons."
"Yes, but where?"
Kallista's gaze fell on the Seat of Government. Khoriseth had been hiding inside one of the executive councilors. Would the greater demon ride a lesser-ranked? She'd encountered it at the Seat only two days ago. It could be there now. Besides, the en-Kameral hadn't answered her demand. They might be interested to know she'd already liberated Habadra's fifty-plus slaves.
She glanced over her troop as she mounted. Half the escort was gone, sent back to the embassy with the freed slaves. And they'd brought a smaller than usual number with them, to leave more guarding the children. But her magic was complete. Strong.
"Chosen.” The high prelate called Kallista's attention. “Not all the clerics nor all the nathains agreed with my decision to leave the temple. There is a split. The Samerics have stirred up the people. Be careful."
"You as well.” Kallista bowed from atop her horse.
"Where are we going?” Torchay asked again as he fell in beside her.
"There.” She pointed at the Seat.
Torchay sighed. “I was afraid of that."
Chapter Thirty
As they traversed the short distance to the government building, Kallista reinforced the shielding around her people, sharing as much as she could with the searching nathains. They could be exposed to the demons, but her godmarked were the ones going in
to battle with them.
She left the soldiers in the street with the horses and instructions to call for help if a riot started. And to come at once if Kallista called. Surrounded by her godmarked iliasti, she strode up the steps and into the en-Kameral chamber.
Many of the seats in the multi-tiered room were empty. The Kameri present gathered in small groups to talk. Two members of the executive council stood near the dais, conferring with some of their colleagues. The other councilors were nowhere to be seen. Everyone looked up in surprise when Kallista entered.
"Reinine—” The Head of Tathiwa Line and the elder of the two councilors present took a hesitant step forward. “Did we have an appointment?"
"We did not.” Kallista bowed a fraction lower than she would have otherwise, in apology. “But I thought to inquire about your response to my request of Thirdday past."
"Request?" One of the Kameri talking with the councilors broke in before Kallista could continue. “That was no request. It was an ultimatum. An insult."
"To my ultimatum, then.” Kallista's hand moved instinctively toward her sword hilt. She stopped herself before it arrived. No use stirring up trouble sooner than needful. “You might like to know that Habadra Chani has been arrested for perversion of justice for poisoning the weapons her champions used in the recent trial. And—"
"Habadra would never submit to arrest,” the Tathiwa exclaimed.
"So you agree she is capable of the crime? She did not submit. But she is nonetheless in custody of your justiciars.” Kallista scowled. She'd expected demon attacks on her shielding the instant they entered the building—or at least when they entered this chamber. Why didn't it attack? Was it even here?
She called magic, shaped it for hunting and sent it plunging into the nearest Head of Line. The woman stiffened, groaned, but didn't react further—perhaps because she was less stained by demon touch than many. Kallista instructed the magic to keep going, to search every Daryathi in the room. Then she turned her attention back to the councillors.
"...this is a deliberative body. We do not act foolishly or in haste,” the Tathiwa was saying. “We—"
"You might be interested to know,” Kallista said. “We have already freed the slaves at Habadra House. I also spoke to your High Prelate in the street just now. Your own naitani—your nathains will no longer cloister themselves in the temple. All your own people who manifest magic will be free to use it outside the temple for the benefit of everyone."
"Blasphemy!” someone cried from a tier near the top.
"Is it blasphemy when your own high prelate has spoken? You shut your own nathains away to ‘protect’ their magic, but have no trouble enslaving mine so you can still use magic. You cannot have it both ways.” The hunter magic had scoured through at least half the Kameri and their bodyguard champions without finding more than stain and it worried Kallista.
"You have no more need of slaves.” Kallista's voice filled the chamber. “I want my people back. I will have them back."
If the demon wasn't here, where was it, and more, what was it doing? Kallista spoke quietly over her shoulder to Torchay. “Someone should check on the troop, make sure things are still quiet outside."
He nodded and slipped away. She hadn't meant for him to go himself, but then with only her godmarked present—the lawyer had returned with the freed slaves—he was probably the best choice.
"You do not rule here!” shouted the Head of Line who'd protested first. “We will not let you come in and destroy our society or the traditions handed down to us by our mothers."
"Your traditions have the taint of demons, twisted from older, better ways. Do you truly wish to live by demon-birthed ways? Under demon law?” Kallista made a supreme effort and put a name to the woman in yellow-green with tall-horned cattle marching round her gold pectoral collar. She was the Nabili, one of the most conservative of the Kameri who'd visited the embassy. She was beginning to annoy Kallista mightily.
"This is Daryath,” the Nabili sputtered. “Our home. We rule here. We do not take orders from insignificant amateurs with delusions of godhood."
"You dare?" Kallista lost her grip on her temper and sent the hunter magic slamming back into the Nabili.
This time, the woman screamed—and the magic sputtered and died.
Kallista snatched for more, but it slipped through her fingers, refusing to answer her call. What was going on? The magic had never failed her before. Not like this.
"What are you doing to us?” The Tathiwa's voice held horror. She supported the gasping Nabili.
"Searching for demons.” Kallista let her hand rest on her sword. “Your whole misbegotten land is riddled with the stink of demons. Since the time of the battle in the Empty Lands, a demon has hidden here and ruled over this society you are so proud of. I will rid you of them—both demons and traditions."
"Kallista—” Torchay bent close to speak in her ear. “Things are tense outside. Crowds gathering, throwing curses. Next will be rocks. Best we leave, if you've no’ found the demon."
Kallista sent her gaze around the chamber, searching the Kameri and their champions with her eyes as she'd searched them with the magic. “One way or the other,” she said. “I will have my people back. Better for you if you give them up willingly."
She spun on her heel and stalked away, hoping desperately that no one saw her shaky panic. What had happened to the magic? She reached for it, and hesitated, afraid to try calling for fear it wouldn't answer this time either.
"Where's Padrey?” Torchay took a long stride to catch up with Kallista on the high porch.
"Right th—” She turned to point, but their new ilias wasn't just behind her, where he'd been all morning. She lurched toward the door, to go back inside and look.
Torchay stopped her. “He's no’ inside. No’ in the meeting room.” He looked at the others who'd gathered round at the top of the steps. “Did anyone see him go inside with us?"
"No.” Aisse frowned. “How can he not be with us?"
"The link's formed.” Kallista bit her lip. “Already."
"Then—where is he?” Viyelle asked. “Can't you sense him through the link?"
Kallista was afraid to look with her magic falling apart like this. Were the links still there? What was going on?
"Kallista." Obed's voice held the same urgency she felt. “Is he out in that?” He pointed.
The streets seethed with activity, their Adaran troop a lone pool of relative stillness. The soldiers stood in a half-circle facing out, the horses behind them, held by a few of the men. They held their carbine pistols pointing up at the sky, a visible threat against the rising hostility of the people in the street being harangued by shaved-bald Samerics.
Fighting back her fears, Kallista reached, not for magic but for her links. If the links were there, maybe the magic would be too. Carefully, as if reaching for a skittish animal, Kallista slipped her fingers around the links. Relief flooded her as she embraced them, counted them. All eight were here, humming with life. And magic. Would it answer her call?
She would try later. For now—quickly she separated out the link that bound her to Padrey. “There.” She pointed at the building they'd just left.
"Inside?” Viyelle shook her head. “But didn't Torchay say—"
"Not inside. Past the building. Somewhere on the other side. We'll have to go round.” Kallista shooed them ahead of her down the steps. “Hurry."
"Where's he going, for the One's sake?” Joh asked. “What's he doing?"
"I don't know.” Once more, Kallista swung onto her horse. “But whatever it is, he thinks it's important."
"If it's so important, why didn't he tell anyone?” Leyja complained. “Why didn't he ask for help?"
"I don't know.” Kallista couldn't keep the temper out of her voice. Why hadn't he? How dare he risk himself alone on these streets? Yes, he'd done it a dozen, a thousand times before. He'd lived on the streets, his life forfeit if he was recognized. But he hadn't been marked the
n. He hadn't been married. He hadn't been so desperately needed.
"He's only been married to us for a day,” Fox said. “He was alone for years before that. It's hard to learn new ways."
"He needs to learn faster.” Kallista wanted to ride faster, but the soldiers had to force a way through the crowds, using the strength of their horses and the threat of their carbines.
"But he wasn't alone, not completely,” Aisse said. “He did have his sedil. And her children."
"He was alone protecting them,” Fox said. “As much as an escaped slave and a thief could."
"Maybe that's where he went,” Joh suggested. “To Penthili House to get her. He'd know it—he escaped from there, didn't he?"
"I don't know,” Kallista said yet again. She was getting tired of having to say it. “But if he's gone off on some half-cocked rescue mission without telling us, I'm going to beat him. Or something."
Ahead, Kallista could see the crowd thin out. The Samerics apparently couldn't stir up tempers quickly enough to keep pace, even at the Adaran's forced slow pace. "Hurry."
* * * *
Padrey slipped through the alley behind Penthili House, feeling conspicuous in his sharp-looking rust red tunic and black trousers. He didn't blend into the sand-colored wall any more. He felt more than a twinge of guilt for coming away like this, but close as Penthili House was to the Seat, he could be in and out again with Nanda and her kids before his new iliasti noticed he was gone.
True, his sedil would be freed when all the slaves were freed, but he couldn't wait any longer. He'd waited too long already—since his escape—and the Penthili was just an older version of the new Head of Habadra. She would destroy a thing rather than let someone else have it. If word got out that Kallista had freed Habadra's slaves—No, Padrey couldn't wait.
He found the place where the plaster over the stone wall had been broken and poorly repaired, and the shallow handholds improved upon by a certain thief. Padrey checked to be sure the alley was empty, and swarmed up and over the wall, dropping into the Penthili pigsty to the squeal of disturbed piglets. Damn. Maybe the boots weren't quite totally ruined. They should have let him wear the old ones.