by Dave Dickie
Daesal studied Delia, who had the appearance of a young woman but was not. She smelled things, brimstone and ancient dust and the metallic tang of burnt copper. It did not convey feelings, or indeed anything other than the fact that Delia was not human. Not alive in the normal sense. Delia noticed the inspection and smiled at her. “Something I can do for you?”
Daesal stared at Delia with open curiosity. “I am just interested in what you are. I have never met someone like you before.” Daesal paused for a moment. Sometimes it was hard for her to judge how people would take her questions. Sometimes she offended them without meaning to. “Are you… alive? If you do not want to answer, I do not mind.”
Delia smile turned a bit more brittle and she turned to Jedia. “Spreading rumors about me, Jedia?”
Jedia hid his confusion well, but Daesal could smell it. “I do not know what she is asking, Delia. I did not tell her anything about our encounter, or you, for that matter. And I know you are not human, but it seems self-evident to me that you are alive.”
Delia turned back to Daesal with a raised eyebrow. Daesal shrugged. “I have a sensitive sense of smell. You smell... well, frankly, you smell like a boring machines from the mines, the big magical drills they use to dig new tunnels.”
Delia replied with a hint of anger, “I will try to wear perfume next time for you, my lady.”
Daesal shook her head quickly. “It is not an offensive smell. I did not mean anything by it. I was just curious.”
Delia looked in Daesal’s eyes for a moment, then she calmed down and nodded. “I see that you don’t. No, I am not alive, not in the sense of a normal creature that is born from its own kind. I am a construct from the Lanotalis Empire days, one of a small number of magical beings created to serve the archmages of those days. Possibly the only surviving one, although we are hard to destroy. But without a mana furnace, we become dormant. I was found in that state in a set of ruins in Pranan and purchased from one of the city-states there by the KNI, who studied me until they learned how to activate and control me.”
Daesal’s expression had turned to one of excitement. “So you remember those days, before the fall and the interregnum?”
Delia shook her head. “No. I have memory and a few basic capabilities built in, like a sense of self- preservation and the ability to speak and understand words, built in. But my memory is volatile. When my instructions are changed, I lose most of my memories, reset to just the basics, and my life starts from almost nothing.”
Daesal’s face blanched. “That… sounds horrible.”
“You have no idea,” said Delia, eyes and voice going cold.
The door at the far end opened and a short, trim, balding man with a mustache walked in wearing the traditional muddy brown fatigues of Kethem Naval Intelligence. “Commander,” said Delia, nodding, “these are the… guests.”
The man nodded to the group. “Welcome. I am Teinhaj Corizan, the commander of the Bythe detachment of the KNI. You may call me Teinhaj. Thank you for joining us.”
Jedia nodded in turn. “Commander. We are more than happy to help with--” and he waved his hands a bit. “Whatever this is about. What do you need from us? I assure you, we will cooperate to the best of our ability.”
Teinhaj said, “Please, call me Teinhaj.” He sat down. “A little over six months ago, we received a piece of intelligence that suggested the local Traveller’s temple--your temple--was a target for infiltration. Or, at least, some form of attack to coerce you to assist in activities against the interests of Kethem. We placed Delia at the temple to attempt to determine the details of this plan. Subsequently, we learned your recent trip to Tawhiem was an integral part of the activity, and we placed another agent as part of the your retinue. Delia and the other agent--”
“Corel?” broke in Padan.
Teinhaj nodded. “Corel. They failed to determine the nature of the threat. Delia did find out that you,” and he pointed at Jedia, “knew the expedition was a ruse of some kind and that you were using it as bait to learn the same thing we were after, the who and why of it. That left me with the option of pulling you in to find out your source and then trying to squeeze the information out of them, or waiting and watching. I decided to wait and watch and see what developed. We had descriptions of all of you,” waving at Daesal, Gyeong, Stegar and Hantlin, “and so…” Then he stopped and looked a bit confused. “Where is the thief? Grimalkin?”
“Not with the group, Commander,” said Daesal. “Nor is our Ibisi guide. Our expedition was over and it was time to go our separate ways.” That was stretching the truth a little, but Delia did not say anything, either because she did not want the trouble or because she didn’t think Grim would add anything to the meeting. The Commander looked irritated but let it go. “Once we received word that you had arrived dockside, it seemed time to take a more direct approach to solving the issue.”
Jedia’s eyebrows lowered and he said, “I see. May I ask you what the source of your information was? You know much more than I thought.”
Teinhaj shook his head. “Classified. I will say that it’s a credible source, most credible. I have complete faith that it is accurate. But it can only tell us so much. I need humint to fill in the details.” Teinhaj saw the lack of comprehension on everyone’s face. “Humint… human intelligence,” he clarified. “I need you all to tell me what you saw and how it relates to the Traveller’s Temple.”
Jedia said, “We can do more than that Commander-- Teinhaj--we can tell you the whom if not the why, of this conspiracy. What do you know about Sambhal?”
Teinhaj frowned. “The demon-god? Not much. While there are occasional accusations of the temple providing illegal substances to clients, they don’t register much on the political spectrum, and drugs are outside our jurisdiction.”
Daesal was worried for a moment that Jedia was going to volunteer that the Sambhal temple itself was involved, but he said, “I don’t mean the temple, I mean Sambhal himself. The original demon.”
Teinhaj shook his head. “I know even less about that.”
Jedia said, “When the two factions of the old empire were at war, there were a number of powerful spells released on both sides. They interacted in unintentional ways. One of them managed to open an interdimensional door, a passageway to another universe. A universe that is populated by beings that feed off raw chaos, beings that are extremely powerful. Sambhal was one of those beings.”
Teinhaj raised an eyebrow. “And?”
“And we believe there are others in that dimension, and that they are behind this attempt.”
“Demons,” said Teinhaj.
“Demons,” agreed Jedia.
Teinhaj turned to the rest of the group. “And you all agree with this?”
Daesal said, “We found evidence in the cave of a two footed, hooved creature, one that was hot enough to burn anything it stood on other than granite. That is consistent with the description of Sambhal in his original form. Whatever it was, it vanished just before we entered. Padan was outfitted with a set of detection and recording spells in order to record what happened. We think the demon became aware of that and did not want to be recognized for what it was.”
Teinhaj looked doubtful. “And based on a set of tracks, you’ve concluded beings from another dimension are responsible for infiltrating the Hasamelis temple? To what end? And why haven’t we seen evidence of them before now? Sambhal was not hard to spot, if I remember the history correctly.”
Jedia stepped in again. “We do not know. The local Sambhal temple has been assisting us, and were able to verify our findings. They have ancient records dating back to his first appearance.”
Teinhaj shook his head. “Sounds like a stretch.”
Delia spoke up, her voice laced with amusement. “I wouldn’t discount these people, Commander. The Silver Ring is perceptive. And in the six months I was at the temple, I had a chance to see Jedia in action. He’s sharper than he looks.”
Jedia smiled. “I’l
l take that as a compliment.”
Delia laughed. “It would be more accurate to say he plays the nice old goat to put people off their guard. Don’t buy it.” Jedia just shrugged in response.
Teinhaj leaned back in his seat looking thoughtful. “So let’s assume it’s true. It doesn’t give us much. We don’t know how they are getting here, we don’t know why they are here, we don’t know what they want. I can drag the Sambhal clergy in here if that will get us some answers.”
Jedia put his hands together. “I do not think so. They may have some, but we are talking about the temple’s sacred texts. They are protected by the Malilatinus Contistes. And, quite frankly, by their god. You will need them to cooperate willingly if you want to get anything from them.”
Teinhaj looked grim. “You know as well as I do that the Sambhal clergy are the most closed-mouthed, uncooperative individuals in all of Kethem.”
“By their nature and the nature of their religion,” said Jedia, nodding agreement. “They are secretive for a reason, particularly with officials from organizations that might use the information against the temple’s clients.”
Daesal spoke up. “There may be a way regardless. I have a personal relationship with the Chikal. I believe she will help me if I ask for assistance, and if I assure her that nothing I learn outside of things related to this… intrusion… will be shared, I think she will be most cooperative.”
Teinhaj looked thoughtful. “I appreciate your willingness to help, my lady.”
Daesal looked pained. “Please, call me Daesal. I am willing to help, but I want something in return.”
Teinhaj cocked his head. “I’m listening.”
“The crystal ball Corel took from the elf. I want it returned to the elvish Embassy.”
“That would be difficult, Daesal.”
“Difficult is not impossible. Let me make it a more obvious choice. I am a Silver Ring, and I can walk out of here and there is nothing you can do to stop me. I can go to the elvish Embassy and tell them you have the crystal ball. You may get a magistrate or my Hold to declare that a crime after the fact, but it will be done and over. I owe Beldaer that. He saved our lives many times over. And no one in Kethem, or anywhere else, wants to be on the elves’ bad side. Are you willing to create a diplomatic incident with the elves over this?”
Teinhaj was sitting a little rigidly, a spark of anger in his eyes. “If they know about it, they will deactivate the crystal ball and it will be useless to us. At least, they have done that in the past. But I must tell you, I do not like being threatened, my lady.” He took a deep breath. “I tell you what. You bring me what I need, enough information to stop this demon, and I will do as you ask.”
Daesal said, “And while I am at it, you will have enough time to get a magistrate or my Hold to stop me before I can go to the elves. I am not stupid, Commander.”
Teinhaj shrugged. “I give you my word. It is either sufficient or it is not. If it is not, I will pursue this with more standard protocols.”
Daesal hesitated, then turned to Delia. “Is the Commander’s word good?”
Delia looked startled and laughed. “You’re asking me?” Daesal nodded. Delia stopped laughing and looked at Teinhaj. Finally, she said, “Yes. Yes it is. And, quite frankly, the level on this mission is high enough that he could have me subdue even you, a Silver Ring, right now. And while it might raise eyebrows, it wouldn’t blemish his career much. The top of the heap is worried about this one for some reason. The last platinum-rated mission I was part of was five years ago.”
“I would fight Delia to protect you, Daesal,” said Gyeong, “but I would lose.” Delia gave Gyeong a grin and a nod.
Daesal nodded to Delia, then to Gyeong, and said, “Thank you, Gyeong.” She turned to Teinhaj. “Your terms are accepted, Commander. I will set up a meeting with the Chikal.”
Chapter Thirty One
Daesal had only met Tessa twice, but she found her a gracious and poised woman of indeterminate age and a kind of timeless beauty. She had long, raven dark hair, slate-colored eyes that could look blue or grey depending on how the light hit them, a thin face with high cheekbones, and flawless skin. Today, Tessa was wearing a long, pale yellow dress, gossamer thin, with a thick leather belt decorated in gold braid emphasizing her narrow waist. She’d been wearing the same thing the previous times, perhaps a standard dress for a head priestess of Sambhal. When they met, Daesal had been with her friend Gur, and both times she had felt, or smelled, a change come over him, a strange, crisp smell of freshly cut onion, stinging in its intensity. Both times, Gur had asked Tessa to turn down her glamour, and Tessa had done something that Daesal couldn’t sense, and Gur had gone back to smelling like Gur.
Those times Tessa had worn a subtle perfume, smoky sandalwood with a touch of something earthy, but under it Daesal could sense other things, something like roses and allspice and a whiff of stale air, a strange combination that did not seem fully natural, but was not alarming. All Daesal could tell was that Tessa liked Gur, was curious about Daesal, and had a wait and see attitude about most things that was more common in a much older person, although Gur had implied Tessa was older than she looked.
Today the roses were gone, replaced with a pungent smell like mist over a swamp, full of wet, decaying things. Tessa smelled angry and suspicious, although none of that showed in her face or mannerisms. They were in a small room off the main entrance to the Sambhal temple. Daesal had a temporary invitation to the temple, a four by six piece of parchment with the Sambhal glyph magically burned into it. Gur had told her that it was magicked up to let the priests and priestesses know who she was, what she was at the temple to do, where she was located in the temple at any point in time, and also gave them a list of everything she was carrying. And, perhaps other things that Gur was not aware of. Tessa gave her a small, enigmatic smile and gestured to a seat.
“Please, Daesal, make yourself comfortable. I have not had much of a chance to share your company, and I treasure what moments I can steal away from temple duties to speak with you.” There was no scent of dishonesty to that, but the underlying anger was still there, fetid and dank. “I understand that Archimandite Burse requested I see you. The head of the Hasamelis temple is a good man to know. He can open many doors in Bythe, has friends across many of the temples here. But I want you to know that you do not need him to open doors here. I am at your service, always.”
Again, there was no scent that indicated Tessa was lying, although some phrases were meant figuratively and they could roll off people’s tongues without them consciously thinking about how true or untrue they were. Daesal believed Tessa, however, and she caught the scent of allspice again. Tessa was intensely curious about her.
“I thank you Tessa, and I value your esteem more than I can say. In this case, Jedia Burse sent word so you know that I come from him, and that what I say, I say on his behalf as well as my own.” There was a little spark in Tessa’s eyes, a glint of anger. “Jedia sends his respects and a sincere apology for sharing the information you gave him with me, but there are good reasons. I swear to you, it will go no further.” The spark was gone, but not the fetid smell. Tessa was good at hiding what she was feeling.
Tessa smiled and nodded gracefully. “Please, continue. I know Jedia would not have betrayed my confidence lightly. You must have something quite important to tell me.”
“You know that, with the information you gave him, Jedia decided to send one of his senior priests to the purported resting place of the Staff of Hasamelis?”
“Padan Moire,” said Tessa.
“Yes, to draw out whoever or whatever was behind this ruse and find out what they are trying to accomplish. But he also hired people to accompany Padan. I was one of those who signed on.”
“I… see,” said Tessa, blinking, surprised at where the conversation had gone. “May I ask why?”
Daesal laughed. “That is a longer story, for another time. At the moment, the important thing is that we believe
that the priestess that was… entertaining Orelan Trireck, the junior Hasamelis priest who had the vision of the staff in the first place, was baiting a trap. A trap to capture a high-ranking Hasamelis priest and give someone sufficient time to turn him to their needs.”
Tessa frowned. “Someone?”
“We believe it’s the ones possessing your priestess. Demons.”
Tessa did not seem surprised, but then she had, for all practical purposes, suggested something like that to Jedia. She must have suspected something like this. “And the needs of the demons would be?”
“I am not sure. I have volunteered to help Jedia and Padan find out.” The fetid smell had almost vanished, and allspice was suddenly peaking.
“You are, in your own way, as interesting as Gur,” said Tessa. “Jedia is capable, sharp, and even if I only know him by reputation, it is a reputation that would make me wary of him. Yet you have befriended him in a short time and convinced him that you can do something he, with all the resources of the temple at his fingertips, cannot. You must share the story of how you did that some day. But we can save that for another time. Let us suppose, for the moment, that it is true. I will say that I believe it is, or close enough. I can take the individual responsible and work to remove this influence, but that aspect of Sambhal cannot be eradicated. It is part of who we are. Others do, and will, fall under its sway again, and it is difficult to know how far down that road they have gone.”
Daesal shook her head. “I do not want that. I want a session, or whatever the term is, with her.”
There was the sudden tang of hot, wet blood in Tessa’s smell and her face went a little pale. “I am sorry. I cannot help you with that. Who a client has spent time with is restricted information. A fundamental part of our religion protects the privacy of our patrons.” Gur had told Daesal that Sambhal worshippers had a geas that prevented them from talking about anything that happened in the temple. It seemed even the head of the temple fell under its influence.