Weirdest job interview ever, thought Esme.
She took a drink from her cocktail and studied this king with a professional eye.
I’m sticking with my underwear model assessment. He has that casual thing of a guy who knows he’s attractive but doesn’t bother to care. It’s easy to see why women fall for him. My only interest in him revolves around him being the one responsible for keeping me alive. He is hot, though. Sexy voice. Eyes that could melt… But no. Good thing I’m dead inside where romance is concerned.
She smirked to herself.
“Chief, good to see you!”
Four local men came over to the table, and Owen politely shook hands. They started chatting about a parade or something, and Esme was again glad to discover this world felt so ordinary. After a quick discussion, the restaurant patrons left the king to his un-introduced guest and returned to eating at the bar and shouting at athletes on the TV.
Owen closed the folder and faced Esme again. “Sorry, I think I’m caught up now. I can hardly read Hakim’s notes, anyway. The man has the handwriting of a serial killer elf.”
She chuckled, though unsure what this meant.
“I’m sure you have a ton of questions, so let’s get to it.”
“Okay.” Esme took a breath and started her mental list of questions. “How many alterni have there been since the beginning?”
Owen leaned back in his seat and crossed his arms to think. “There’ve been eighty generations of kings. I haven’t been masochistic enough to figure out the average, but I’m guessing in total the conjuri have cast the summono over eight hundred times.”
“Over eight hundred alterni?” Esme tried to keep her voice down so she didn’t sound crazy, but this figure was alarming. “For only eighty kings?”
“Yeah…” Owen looked uncomfortable, and he took a drink.
Knowing enough of his personal history with alterni, she went easy on him and kept things historic. “And how many malevolenci have there been?”
“Thousands upon thousands. But we track and kill them all, with no known exceptions.”
She nodded. “Sounds like the Order saves a lot of lives.”
“It does.” He met her eyes with a solid nod.
He takes this seriously, she thought. I guess he would… Eighty generations, and right now it’s all on his shoulders. And mine.
Esme felt overwhelmed with what she’d learned of the kings and alterni – not to mention his and her personally complicated history. Moving on, she decided to learn everything she could about the whole point of being here. “What can you tell me about the malevolenci?”
“Did Hakim explain how they cross rifts all over the globe but for now are concentrated here, like Kansas City is a freakin’ hellmouth?”
She nodded.
“Well, it’s been rough lately, without an alterni to close the rifts. In other parts of the world, our cavali only see five or six rifts a year. Here, we see five or six a month.”
“Yikes. How many rifts are open right now?”
“Thirty in this region. Another sixteen around the globe.”
“Yikes again… How do you hide rifts from the public, if there’s no alterni to close them?”
“We have systems in place that erect construction zones around open rifts. Most of the time that keeps them hidden until a conjuri can get there to cast an illuso spell, which cloaks everything in the area.”
She tried to be respectful. “You can’t do the spell?”
“I can cast hand spells, but only conjuri have mastered symbol spells. In areas prone to rifts, the conjuri keep permanent illuso symbols drawn so the spells can be reinforced quickly rather than drawn from scratch. The conjuri make graffiti with the symbols, and sometimes we work them into our local business’s signs. The conjuri also leave barrio symbols around the city, reinforcing them on scheduled rotations. That stops any malevolenci we’ve missed from entering populated areas.”
Esme nodded, understanding enough.
“You’ll need to master the symbol spells too, and Roman himself will teach you. I’m okay at hand spells, but… Well, that’s part of why we need an alterni with us when we hunt malevolenci. If you’re right there with my team, you can cast the illuso and keep our activities hidden. And we need you to cast the termino that closes the rifts. That symbol spell is the most important, and – as our bad luck would have it – the termino is the most complicated to draw. It’s always difficult for alterni to master, but your skills as an artist might help.” Owen gave her an encouraging smile.
Esme nodded, suspecting her photographic memory would help too. “What about the malevolenci that make it through? I can’t image they’re easy to hide, even if you have illuso and barrio spells handy.”
“It helps that the malevolenci only cross rifts at night. Our sun is too bright for them to stand exposure for too long – we’ve known that for centuries, since the first king. Anyway, their night attacks make it easier to hide their existence from the public. But even that’s become difficult. Crime in the Midwest is low. Unexplained gruesome murders are not, if you see what I’m getting at.”
She grimaced.
“But,” he added, “we have scouting teams in this rift-laden region, so that helps. The scouts report in whenever they find a rift or evidence of malevolenci, and I send cavali to investigate. We’d killed scores of malevolenci that way since…since the last alterni died.” He hurried past this. “We’ve brought a lot of homeless into the Order. They work as scouts without being too obvious to the public. A few self-sacrificing conjuri have even volunteered to live among the homeless to protect them and shield the new rifts as quickly as possible.”
Esme hadn’t known this. She looked around at the average citizens in the restaurant. These everyday people were laughing, chatting, yelling at the players on the TV, or ignoring their surroundings as they enjoyed their pizza.
Esme smiled to herself.
The more I hear about the Order, the more they sound like good people. They protect the rest of the world from monsters these citizens don’t even know exist.
She had another question as she looked around, and she lowered her voice. “Aren’t you worried these people will hear us talking and think we’re crazy?”
Owen smiled and pointed up.
Esme lifted her gaze and saw a strange symbol made of gold in the ceiling over their table. “Is that the illuso symbol?”
“It’s an interpreto, an altered illuso. One of the conjuri comes here regularly and reinforces it so I have a private place to discuss Order business with cavali who come to town. Or alterni.” Owen motioned toward her.
Esme studied the symbol. “What does it do?”
“For anyone around who might be listening, to them we’re having an ordinary, everyday conversation about sports, the weather, movies – whatever.”
“So they don’t hear us talking about monsters that could invade and kill them at any minute?”
“Nope. Or if they do, it sounds like we’re discussing Dungeons and Dragons strategy.” Owen winked.
Esme examined the symbol again.
Neat trick.
She tried to focus on important questions. “What is the malevolenci world? Is it… I mean, is it hell?”
“That’s one theory. The ancients called the world ‘inferno’ when malevolenci first invaded.” Owen made a face. “It’s an accurate comparison, from what little we know.”
“No one’s ever gone there to fight them?”
“None that lived to tell the tale. Anyone who’s ever tried to enter a rift has either died in the attempt or never returned.” Owen took another drink. “The truth is, we can’t get into any other worlds. That’s just not how it works, for whatever reason. We can bring people to us through the summono, we can send them back to their own alt-worlds, but that’s it. We ourselves can’t go anywhere. Even you alterni can only be returned to your own worlds, not other alt-worlds.”
That’s a bummer.
&nb
sp; She asked, “But the malevolenci can open rifts? They enter other worlds?”
Owen wiggled his head. “Yes and no. Alterni over the centuries have told us that malevolenci appear in their worlds, but only as…ghosts, I guess. They can’t fully cross over and so can’t do any real damage.”
“Then how can they come here?”
“It’s because of this world’s magic. It strengthens them, and they know it. Our world is like a pot of sugar attracting ants. That’s why they focus their invasion on our world.” Owen shook his head wearily. “Everything we’ve ever been able to see of their world suggests it’s dying. Somehow, in the beginning, they figured out how to connect with our world, and they’ve been trying to crawl through ever since. It’s an infestation.”
“Ants… Infestation… Are they just dumb animals, then?”
“No. It’s hard to explain, but they’re…evil. Our ancestors called them demons for a reason. The different species have varying levels of intelligence, even their own forms of speech. The Chronicles of Kings have stories about the malevolenci that clearly show these beasts use tactics, strategy, traps, cruelty – things dumb animals wouldn’t do. This is war.”
Esme frowned.
Great. So they’re super-intelligent monsters who’ve learned from centuries of attacks. And I’m supposed to jump into all this? Anyone with sense would be more afraid than curious… What is wrong with me?
“The conjuri will teach you about malevolenci,” Owen continued, “but for now you should know there are five species. Lowest on the food chain are the spindlox, which are like huge, bone-colored spiders the size of a small dog. They come out of rifts in swarms, and they hunt and kill anything they can overpower. Their front claws are like a giant crab’s, and their posterior stingers paralyze temporarily. They have pincers that’ll bite your hand right off. They can take down a human, but mostly they scavenge or stick to cattle, small game, that kind of thing. If they breed, they lay hundreds of eggs at a time. And they’re super ugly.”
“Yeah, I think I saw spindlox in the lab when I first got here.”
“Probably. Roman likes to use them for training novices. They’re the least intelligent species, so they’re safer to keep in captivity.” He held up two fingers. “Second species is the crustacox. They’re not very intelligent and have a herd mentality, but they’re hard to kill because of thick exoskeletons. They’re the size of… I guess an ox. But they look more like huge armadillos with tentacles that unfold from where their heads should be.” He hesitated. “They’ll suck out your eyeballs, then drink your blood, if you’re not careful.”
Esme made a face. “That’s…appetizing.”
Owen looked like he agreed but held up three fingers. “Third are the chiroptorx. Bats the size of eagles. Basically the pterodactyls of your nightmares. They’re smart and have a kind of hive mind that lets them coordinate attacks with scary precision. They claw their victims to death, then eat us in pieces.”
She’d never liked bats. “Fourth species?”
“Felicox. They’re tigers but with dark red fur. They’re huge, fast, and strong. They also might be the most cunning species, and they have their own language that’s hypnotic if you listen too long. And did I mention their strength? Even a small felicox weighs enough to crush a man if it pounces. I’ve seen several cavali lose limbs from felicox bites. Their mouths are red-hot, so if they bite you, it’ll cauterize-”
“Got it. And the fifth kind?” Esme tried to remember what little Hakim had told her. “Bentaforx?”
Owen’s eyes showed he was surprised she remembered. “Yes. They’re very rare. We think they breed far less often than the other types. The conjuri believe bentaforx have longer gestational periods, since they’re so huge. Or maybe each bentaforx is like the queen of a hive, with only one bentaforx for every hundred of the smaller species. No one really knows. But we only see a bentaforx once every generation. That’s good news for you, since I’ve faced one already.” He frowned. “There’s nothing in this world to compare them to, but I’m sure they’re the source of legends about dragons. They’re the most intelligent species. The conjuri have deciphered some of the bentaforx language. Words like ‘hunt’ and ‘kill’ and… Well, we’ve deciphered enough to know they’re coming into our world with the purpose of destroying us. It’s not like these are innocent creatures who just fall out of their world into ours.”
“They’re trying to invade, like you said.” Esme nodded with a shiver. “I heard the fake bentaforx’s speech during my test.”
“Yeah, I saw that in your file… You used a spoon?” He looked both not impressed and concerned.
Esme shrugged. “There wasn’t a lot on hand at the time. It was a panic-induced choice.” A question popped into her mind. “You’ve run that test with each of my alterni, right? What did the others do that made you pick them?”
“Well, your immediate predecessor at least grabbed a steak knife. The one before that broke a stool and used the sharpest leg piece as a weapon. The fourth Esme grabbed stuff from the bar and made a Molotov cocktail. She hurled it at the fake bentaforx and nearly set the whole stage on fire. I never could get her to explain where she picked up that particular skill set, but it was pretty damn impressive.”
“Oh…” Esme’s shoulders slumped.
Owen studied her a moment, apparently trying to judge her ability to survive. Esme had a feeling he wasn’t optimistic – granted, her spoon choice wasn’t a good first impression. She didn’t know what Hakim had written in her folder, but she doubted anything there inspired confidence either.
And this king’s seen stronger versions of me die already. How pitiful I must seem in comparison…
The waitress came to the table and deposited their pizza. “Enjoy,” she told Owen with a big smile. She was gracious enough to spare Esme a glance before heading back to the kitchen.
Owen handed Esme the serving utensil. “Ladies first.”
She took the utensil, cut loose two slices, slapped them on her plate, and pulled the strings of cheese that refused to release. This done, she unrolled her napkin. She looked at the king pointedly as she set her spoon aside, then picked up her knife and fork to eat.
To her surprise, Owen laughed in amusement. He grabbed a few slices himself. “Where were we?”
Esme took a bite and swallowed before pouting an answer. “I believe you were wondering how quickly I’m going to die.”
Owen flinched.
I do feel bad for this guy, she thought with a sigh, but I’m the one in trouble here.
Esme met his eyes to prove she meant business. “I’m sorry to be blunt, but it’s hard not to keep coming back to the fact that eight of me have died already. I’m trying to learn what I need to know about the malevolenci. I’m trying to understand how the Order works, how this world works… But you people accidentally remind me all the time that I’m not likely to last long. You’re used to me’s not lasting long. It’s not exactly encouraging, and I keep wondering if I should go home. At the same time, I don’t want to go home because that means you’d have to recruit another Esme. I’m here now, and I’m trying to be brave and prepare for this job, but you all look at me like you expect me to die.” She chuckled darkly. “And it’s only my first day!”
Owen turned melancholy again.
Esme glanced at her cocktail.
Enough alcohol for now. I should be more respectful. I’m not arguing with a date – this guy is king of the world!
“Sorry,” she said. “I can’t imagine what this is like for you. Hakim told me about you and my…”
Owen caught what she meant and sighed. He took a bite, set the slice on his plate, and paused. His voice was softer when he spoke again. “Yes, I loved your origini. After she died, I was broken for a long time. I’d allowed myself to get too close, and…”
Esme waited, awkwardly shifting in her seat.
Owen collected himself. “Let me back up to explain. Did Hakim tell you my grandfather went
through twenty-two alterni?”
She nodded.
“Well, my father learned from those mistakes and was very careful with his origini. That man, Trent Simons, was amazing. He taught me a lot. What Hakim maybe didn’t tell you was that Trent was my dad’s only alterni.”
Esme’s eyes widened. “He lived the whole time?”
“Yeah. The origini often survive for years and years because their magic is stronger than the average alterni’s.” Owen smiled in memory. “Trent and my dad worked so well together. They tracked and killed hundreds of malevolenci. Trent took down a bentaforx with this ingenious trap in a stone quarry. He and Dad became great friends. I even called him Uncle Trent when I was little.”
Esme smiled at this.
“I was only twenty when my dad died and I became king. Trent outlived my dad by two years, so he helped me a lot in my early reign. He died only a short time before Roman summoned the origini Esme.” Owen sighed. “I was naïve to assume I’d have the same luck as my dad and his origini. We fell in love, planned a future, decided to get married. Never got to, though. One night… We’d fought scores of malevolenci before, but we weren’t prepared for a bentaforx.”
Esme’s eyes widened.
“The thing took one swipe at me and broke both my legs. I couldn’t do anything but lie there as Esme went after it with the strongest hand spells I’d ever seen. She…” Owen cleared his throat and looked at his plate. “She was amazing, but it wasn’t enough. The bentaforx… Well, she died. And I took it hard, obviously. We were together five years.”
Esme remained quiet as the king snuck a bite of food, and she followed his example.
I’m not sure I want to hear this. Then again, I guess it’s best to get it all out now. And I bet Owen needs to talk about this. Who better to understand than me? If we’re supposed to be partners, trusting each other with our lives, then I should listen… And I am curious about the earlier Esmes.
Owen swallowed. “The conjuri had a hard time convincing me to allow another summono. When I saw the brand new pool of alt-Esmes, I broke down sobbing right there in the summono chamber. I picked an alterni without even thinking about it just to get rid of the rest of them.” He held his next piece of pizza idly, shaking his head. “I failed that poor girl and left her training to the conjuri and cavali. I couldn’t look at her. They went easy on her at her Order trial, and even then she barely passed. I never should’ve let her join me in the field. She died three months later when we found a swarm of spindlox.”
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