The watcher departed, leaving his wife with the priest. Fiela escorted Millan to the front door and stood in the threshold as he entered the street. "Don, I'm sorry about my husband. He's not normally so impolite, especially to a priest. He's just very grumpy when he's woken."
Millan smiled kindly. "Think nothing of it. May the angels watch over you."
✽✽✽
The whispers swirled in his head. Humans in general cannot be trusted.
As the sun crossed the sky and hovered over the treetops, the end of his path came into view. The city ahead was surrounded by walls, the entrance guarded. For the hundredth time on his trek, he checked his hands only to find that they were still human. He made sure his shirt was buttoned and then adjusted the cloth covering his eye. As he neared the gate, two watchers converged on him.
"Welcome to Nolka. Who are you and what is your business here?" one watcher questioned.
Nolka. That was the name of the city he was seeking. His spirits lifted, pleased that he'd wound up at the intended destination.
"Please state your business," the other watcher insisted.
He opened his mouth to speak but was interrupted by a voice.
"Erynion!" A man in beggar's clothing rushed past the guards. "Wow, you've gotten bigger. Or maybe I got smaller. I'm so glad that you're all right. No one believed me." The beggar shot the watchers a nasty look. He took the demon by the hand and led him past the guards and into the city. As they moved farther from the gate, the demon caught bits of the watchers' conversation.
"Should we tell Don Millan?"
"I don't think that was Don Skully. He certainly wasn't dressed like a priest."
"Wasn't there a watcher missing too?"
"Captain Pirok. I actually knew him before he moved to Nesinu. That wasn't him, though. Did you see that scar on his face? Must've come from fighting something nasty. Looks pretty fresh too."
"Yeah, I bet he's missing that eye. Maybe we should tell him where he can find the Pink Leaves."
"Eh, he seems fine. And a missing eye couldn't be half as bad as spending time with Dulo."
The laughter faded as the demon turned a corner. The beggar guided him down back alleys and away from the busy streets. Their path narrowed before coming to an end at the city wall. A tattered canopy hung haphazardly overhead, and a nice rug with a large gash was sprawled on the ground. The wall blocked the sun, but remnants of light still illuminated the sky.
"Well, here we are. Home sweet home," Dulo said.
"Ujjra—" the demon cut himself off.
"You know, I just had this feeling."
"Imdana sterdana ujjnek?"
"Right, and there you were. You remember me, right, Erynion?"
"Raujju hajji djja on vejja."
"Haha, of course. You wouldn't forget your best friend, would you? I'm glad you're back, Erynion."
The demon watched as Dulo scurried about to put his things in order. The beast was unsure about plenty, especially his past. Perhaps the beggar had some idea of who he was. And so, he decided, for now, he would keep the name Dulo had given him. The demon casually inspected the quiet corner and considered how he would contact the Brotherhood. His new beggar friend was harmless, but he was going to be useless too. Because if there was one thing Erynion knew for sure, it was that Dulo had no idea what the demon was saying.
Chapter 6
Sound the Alarm
Millan walked into the large dining hall of the rectory. Tables with occupied benches were arranged randomly throughout the dining room, except for the largest, which ran parallel with the front wall. This table of importance was slightly elevated and occupied by Archdon Feranis, along with four priests. A loud hum filled the room as conversations meshed together. Tyro gestured to Millan to join him, Gheron, and a few other squires from Nolka. As the young priest took his seat, the others became awkwardly quiet. There was still no word from Don Skully.
Millan stared at his food as the others dug into their meals. The clanging of forks against plates joined the hum of the room. He had spent much of his day at the north gate, hoping each time he looked out, he would spot a lone figure in the distance. The road only led to Nesinu, and no one appeared. An hour or so before the sun intended to set, his stomach scolded him for paying his hunger no heed for the entire day. The watchers assured him if the elder priest arrived, they would send word to the rectory immediately. Reluctantly, Millan had returned to his new home.
As the Nesinu priest took a couple of bites from his dinner, a watcher approached the head table. The man bowed before Archdon Feranis, who motioned for the watcher to step forward. Millan kept a close eye on the interaction. Before he spent the day at the north gate, he had reported his conversation with Watcher Hyron to the archdon. Concerned with the fate of Nesinu and Don Skully, Feranis had requested a scout head north before noon, giving the rider plenty of time to return before nightfall. Millan wondered if this interruption was news from the scout.
Feranis stroked one side of his chin before turning to the priest next to him. The female don leaned in as the archdon whispered into her ear.
Millan nudged Gheron with his elbow. "What's going on?"
The squire glanced up at the head table as the female priest wiped her mouth with her napkin and excused herself. Gheron swallowed his food. "I'm not sure, but it's rare that an incident would require immediate attention during dinner, especially from Don Yatiga."
"What's so special about Don Yatiga?"
"She's the highest-ranked don in Nolka. She's already started training in her specialty for Ascension. In a few more months, she'll be an archdon."
Millan lifted his eyebrows. "Really? What did she choose?" Once approved to begin the process of Ascension, there were a few different paths a don could decide on, and with any luck, Millan would be allowed to start in a few years.
"Restraint. She's been training with Archdon Volko in Light's Haven." Gheron took another bite of his dinner. "Aside from history, she's also been teaching the senior squires the Blessing of the Holy Prism."
Millan knew the Nolka squire was bragging. The Blessing of Divine Restraint was the introductory spell for squires, and the Holy Prism blessing was normally taught after Acceptance, a squire's induction into Candelux.
"Gheron!" Yatiga said as she strode by the table. "You're coming with me. You, too, Benedoli."
Gheron hopped up, as did Benedoli, a female squire from a different table. "Yes, Don," they said simultaneously.
Millan sprang to his feet, and his end of the bench squealed as it skidded across the floor. "Please, Your Grace, can I be of assistance in any way?"
"Don Millan, please sit down," Feranis said sternly. "You are a guest in our city. Enjoy your dinner."
The young priest sensed some annoyance in the archdon's voice, and so he quietly sat back on the bench. Millan watched Yatiga leave with Gheron and Benedoli before returning to his dinner. As the squires began clearing the plates, Millan suggested to Tyro that they excuse themselves to check on the families who had taken refuge in the city. As the pair prepared to depart, Feranis called from the head table. "Don Millan, may I speak with you in private, please?"
Millan blushed as he promised Tyro he'd catch up with him later and then hurried to the hall exit. As Millan matched the footsteps of his superior, the hollow sound of the boards reverberated in the small hallway with a soft creak here and there. Feranis opened the door to his office and allowed Millan to enter.
The archdon sank into his chair behind his desk. "Please, sit down."
Millan obliged. "I apologize for the interruption at—"
Feranis raised his hand. "This is not why I called you here."
"It's just that I thought with the scout—"
"Don Millan, please," Feranis pleaded. "Believe me. I understand your concern for Don Skully. This is why I've asked you here. There's been no word from the scout that was sent this morning. He should've returned some time ago. And there's something else. I spoke w
ith that boy. I think I understand why Don Skully ordered the evacuation."
Millan's leg bounced with anticipation. "You do?"
"He said vines had burst from the ground and wrapped around one another to create a massive tree. Does that sound familiar to you?"
A chill swam up his spine. "A twisted gate?"
"I think so. Even though he's just a boy, I can't imagine he would describe a pod in that manner. The fact that both Don Skully and the scout from earlier are missing also lends credence to something more sinister than a few fray."
"By the angels, he knew," said Millan.
"Most likely. To what degree, we won't know until we find him. But it seems like he made the right decision by calling for the evacuation."
Millan wanted nothing more than to go search for his mentor, but the prospect of a powerful demon lurking in the area put him on guard. "So, what do we do now?"
"Now? We stay here in the city behind the walls. Night is when the demons gather their strength. In the meantime, though, I've sent a letter to Light's Haven to inform them of my suspicion and that we'll be investigating the matter."
"We?"
"You, me, and the other priests in Nolka. Naturally, we'll wait for morning so that the demons will be at a disadvantage. After the squire classes, we'll all meet in front of the rectory and head to Nesinu together."
Millan dreaded another walk. "By foot?"
"No, by horse. Don't worry. I've already spoken with Kona Magara. She runs the stables here in Nolka. She's allowing us to borrow some horses for those priests who don't own one, including yourself. You should get some rest."
Millan covered his face. "A twisted gate. He didn't have to stay behind. Or I should've stayed to help him."
"You shouldn't think like that. Don Skully did what he thought was best for the village and for you. Trust me. I knew him long before you did. He's always been stubborn. When he thinks he's right about something, he never wavers at all. You really think you could've convinced him to let you stay?"
A smile crept across Millan's lips. "He is a bit stubborn, isn't he?"
Feranis chuckled. "Yes, he is. He and I were close friends when we lived in Light's Haven."
"That's right. You were an advisor to Primus Ayristark while Don Skully lived there."
"Well, yes, but—" The watchtower bells clanged irregularly. Although Nesinu was a small town, it also maintained a watchtower with a single bell. The young priest had only heard it ring in this manner one time.
Feranis fetched an ornate staff from the corner of his office. The long piece of wood featured a golden four-pointed star at the top. Millan recognized the shape on the end as a replica of the Talisman of Zavi. Clear like crystal, the real artifact was passed down through the generations and worn by the reigning Prima or Primus.
"Come," instructed the archdon. "It appears I may need your help tonight after all."
Millan and Feranis hastened down the halls and out of the rectory, where they were joined by other priests, as well as the senior squires approved for combat. As they stood in the courtyard, a watcher rounded a corner and sprinted toward them.
"What news?" Feranis asked.
The watcher gasped for air. "Your Grace, it's the north gate."
"Let's go!"
The group dashed toward the city gates. Millan stayed close to Feranis as the watcher explained the situation. "They came out from the woods. They were at the gate before we knew it. We weren't able to shut it. We couldn't even get a signal off to the tower."
"What? Where was your seeker?" the archdon asked. "I specifically asked your captain for one to be posted."
Dons like Millan were trained with a basic ability to detect different types of energy. The seekers were watchers who shared this skill with the priests. While fray demons were always easy to spot from their physical appearance, the iymed sometimes looked human enough that it wasn't so obvious. Only by detecting their dark energy could a priest or seeker know the difference.
"We had one, but I don't know where he is." The watcher did his best to keep pace with the old man. "There was some situation in the city. He was called away to help investigate."
"Depths!" Feranis cursed, a mild swear compared to some of the language of the commoners. "So, are the gates still open?"
"I believe so. We rushed to shut them, but we were sabotaged. Someone uncoupled the gear mechanism. When we tried to close it by hand, we were attacked from inside the walls. Two of our company were shot with arrows; one died and our lead was injured." The watcher struggled to catch his breath. "Your Grace, I think it was the Brotherhood."
Feranis clenched his jaw. "So, after all these years, they're finally coming out of the shadows."
"I was ordered by the lead to run to the watchtower to alert our captain, then go to the rectory to bring help. I don't know how my comrades have fared in my absence, but the sooner we get there the better."
"I agree," the archdon said.
The Candelux group finally arrived at the north gate where the battle was underway. While a handful of watchers were engaged with some of the larger demons, other fray scampered past them into the city. The priests spread out and began to restrain the beasts.
"Where did you put your wounded?" Feranis asked the watcher.
"He's alone in the guardhouse over by the gate."
The elder priest noticed Millan beside him. "Don Millan, I assume Don Skully taught you how to heal?"
"Yes, Your Grace, the basic blessings."
"Good. Treat the wound and make sure his life's not in any danger. He doesn't have to rejoin the fight, but you do. Get back out here when you're finished."
"Understood." Millan ran to the guardhouse. As he weaved between the fighters, his pulse thumped in his ears. He'd never had an opportunity like this to use all the blessings Don Skully had taught him. He was eager to put his slaying and cleansing skills to the test, but he knew his healing was equally important.
The Nesinu priest reached the guardhouse uninterrupted. He flung open the door and spotted the watcher lying on the floor in the shadows. Millan knelt beside him.
The watcher groaned in pain. "Oh, it's you."
"Watcher Hyron, how are you feeling?" Millan removed the blanket covering his shirtless patient.
"Like I was shot in the shoulder with a fangling arrow."
Despite Hyron being fully awake, Millan couldn't help but notice that his demeanor was not all that different from earlier in the day. The priest studied the injured shoulder and determined that he had been hit from behind. The tail end of the arrow was undoubtedly broken off so Hyron could lie down. Millan examined the metal tip of the arrow that protruded through the front of the watcher's shoulder. The young priest briefly hovered his hands over the injury. "You've lost a lot of blood."
Hyron scoffed. "Brilliant assessment."
Though he had learned triage and blessings of healing, Millan had never healed a wound like this before. Standard practice was for a second priest to soothe the patient and numb the pain during the procedure, but there was no time for that. The arrow had to come out before he could do any healing.
As Millan pinched the tip of the arrow, Hyron gripped the priest's wrist. "What are you doing?"
"I…I need to pull it out before I can heal the wound."
"Are you kidding me? No sleep? You're just going to pull it out?"
"I'm sorry. Sleep requires total focus. I can't do both. I'm sorry, but it's the only way. It needs to come out."
The watcher tightened his grip on Millan's arm. "If you touch that arrow while I'm conscious, I'm going to rip your fangling head off."
The young priest was paralyzed. Although not a large man, Hyron seemed like the type who could make good on his promise with his one good arm.
"Depths! Fine." Hyron scanned the room. "There. Pull on the bottom of that table leg. Rickety thing should snap right off."
Although the watcher released his wrist, Millan stayed put.
"Come o
n. Just do it. Hurry!"
The young priest shimmied to the table and yanked the foot of the leg. It snapped with considerable ease. Wiggling it back and forth a few times, he freed it from the final splinters that clung to the table.
"Good. Good." Hyron pointed to the right corner of his forehead. "Now, hit me right here as hard you can."
Millan was still, except for the tremble in his hand. This didn't seem like sound healing advice.
"Come on! You have to knock me out somehow. Now hit me!" the watcher ordered.
Taking in a sharp breath, the priest raised the table leg and swung down with all his might. The impact landed in the middle of Hyron's forehead and fractured the wood. The watcher collapsed, and his head struck the floor. Believing his patient to be unconscious for the moment, Millan quickly knelt and secured the arrow tip between his thumb and index finger.
Eyes half closed, Hyron barely lifted his head. "Ugh, what the—"
The flesh tore and the blood flowed freely as Millan dislodged the arrowhead. The watcher sat straight up, clutched his shoulder, and howled. Millan retreated out of fear for his safety. What followed was a slew of curses as Hyron flopped around on the floor. Millan tossed the arrow aside and prepared to subdue his patient. The young priest tried to calm Hyron as he positioned the watcher flat on his back. Pulling back the watcher's bloody hand, Millan placed both of his hands over the wound. Quietly, he mumbled the Blessing of Rapid Recovery. The energy flowed from his body into the watcher's. Hyron's breathing steadied, and the bleeding came to a crawl.
The door opened behind him, and Millan glimpsed over his shoulder to find a man in a pink robe embroidered with green vines. The young priest had heard of the Pink Leaves sect, but he had never met a member before. Rumor had it their healing abilities rivaled even the best archdon healers.
"Thank the angels. I heard the scream and assumed the worst." The man hovered over Millan. "But it looks like you've already closed the wound. Well done. I'll tend to him from this point on, Don. Thank you."
Millan politely nodded and left his patient with the pinkleaf.
The Twisted Gate Page 4