The Demon's Possession

by Kiersten Fay

  Sebastian watched as Ethanule crossed the room to speak with Anya. She'd gone to the ship and was waiting impatiently to board. Sebastian signaled everyone to give them space, even though it pained him to do so. His intuition screamed for him to keep them separated.

  “What do you think?” Cale and Sonya had gathered around.

  “I don't like him,” Sonya sneered. “I don't trust him. He's a damn pirate. Anya has wanted to find someone like her and then boom, here he is? It's too coincidental.”

  Cale added, “I would love to have seen Anya crack him over the head.”

  Sebastian would love to have seen it too. He continued to watch the emotions play over his Anya's face, fighting the urge to go to her. When her lower lip began to quiver, he lost the fight. He was to her in an instant. “What did he say to you?”

  She reached for him, burrowing her face in his chest. Though it killed him to see her hurt, it was also deeply gratifying that she was in his arms, had reached to him for comfort. He laid a soft kiss on the top of her head.

  Ethanule's eyes flashed with something inscrutable. “I told her that our people are at war, and they are depending on her.”

  “I can't think,” Anya mumbled to his chest. “Ethanule wants to come with us.” She looked up at him with a mixture of terror and hope. “What do you think?”

  He wanted to instruct her to tell this pirate he could screw off. They could take the book and find someone else to translate it. Demons, for one, were very good at deciphering languages of all types. He wanted to tell her she didn't need Ethanule…for anything.

  But seeing that glimmer of hope in her eyes, he said, “I think you should at least listen to what he has to say.” He took her chin between his thumb and forefinger. “Then, if you want, I will kill him for you.”

  With a crooked smile, Ethanule scoffed, “You could try demon.” But then he turned hopeful as Anya looked him over, preparing to make her choice.

  “Alright,” is all she said.

  When they started ascending into the ship, Cale asked, “Is it true what these Denaloids do to prisoners? I've heard some nasty stuff.” It was rumored that the Denaloids often sexually abused the criminals of their race, among other barbaric tortures such as castration.

  Ethanule replied simply, “Just be glad you were under my protection.”

  Sebastian caught the gleam in Calic's eye and knew what he was about to suggest. When Cale mentioned his plan to Ethanule, Ethanule answered sarcastically, “My men would love a pet project.”

  A few minutes later, Xandar was being hauled out of the ship and presented to Ethanule's second in command.

  Sebastian noted that Anya watched, detached and distant. She hated the idea of someone suffering, even if they deserved it. Her kind heart would probably feel sorry for him later, but now she was in too much shock from Ethanule's revelation to offer any kind of protest.

  Sonya was all for it. With pleasure, and artful precision, she cracked Xandar in the face with a heavy right hook. Sebastian knew that right hook well. When sparring, he would do everything to avoid it.

  As Xandar slumped in Cale's and Aidan's hold, Ethanule eyed Sonya with renewed interest, brows raised. Sebastian sometimes forgot how tiny Sonya actually was, and to anyone who didn't know her, it was shocking that such a small creature could pack such a mean punch. Sonya gave Ethanule an arrogant wink and flicked her tail before going to stand beside Anya.

  The fact that Sebastian had been ferrying around a predator weighed heavily on his conscience. The number of victims under Xandar's belt was unknown, but in Sebastian's opinion, one was one too many. Now Xandar begged for mercy, which was more than his victims had been allotted. The doors to the ship closed with a loud ominous sound, condemning Xandar to his fate.

  Inside, quick little Sonya already had a dagger to Ethanule's throat, a hardness to her gaze. “What should we do with the pirate?”

  Ethanule was looking at her with a strange expression. If Sebastian didn't know any better, he'd say Ethanule was amused by Sonya.

  Anya replied first. “I think you should lock him up.”

  At that, Ethanule's jaw dropped. He looked more shocked at Anya's comment than the knife at his throat.

  “Sounds good to me, how about you guys?”

  Both Sebastian and Cale nodded. It was safer to lock him up. They all needed to concentrate on steering clear of Extarga, and a pirate running around the ship would be a distraction. In fact, it might be best if he remained in confinement indefinitely. Ethanule could do his translating just as well from a cell.

  When Sonya began guiding him down the hall, Anya called out, “In sickbay, please.” The same place she'd been kept. She knew it was more comfortable than the cells where Xandar had been incarcerated.

  Cale rolled his eyes. Sonya looked to Sebastian for confirmation. He nodded, then turned back to see Anya trudging in the opposite direction, head down as though lost in thought. Most likely she was.

  Catching up to her, Sebastian said, “I need to take command now and get us to a safe place. Are you going to be okay?” He wanted more than anything to stay with her, and for her to want him to.

  “I'll be fine.” Her tone said otherwise. “Do you mind if I go lie down in your bed for a while?”

  He felt a twinge of satisfaction that she would prefer his bed above her own. “I wouldn't mind. In fact I'd like it if you would stay with me, in my room, from now on. Think of it as your own.” He waited, growing a little nervous when she said nothing. He mused that waiting for an answer from this tiny creature made him more anxious than anything that came before.

  Finally, she said, “I'd like that too.” Then she paused and, with an impish grin, said, “Your room has a better view.”

  * * *

  ——

  * * *

  Two days had passed, and Anya still hadn't visited Ethanule. She'd gone just about everywhere but sickbay, if that was truly where Sonya had taken him. She'd been avoiding him, and the whole subject of him, altogether.

  Sonya asked her only one question. “So,” she said. “What do you think?” Anya had only shrugged in response while continuing to take drink orders.

  There seemed to be a mutual consensus among the crew who'd been present on the asteroid to leave Anya to digest all that had transpired. Marik asked her questions because he hadn't been there, but his questions were more along the line of her state of mind and how she was feeling. His concern gave her insight into what it might have been like to have a big brother.

  Would a big brother have tried to rescue me when my father hadn't?

  Cale only wanted to know about when she'd struck Ethanule with the book, and how quickly he went down. Cale could be single minded. If it wasn't women on his mind, it was violence.

  Sebastian hadn't even brought it up. Each night, he would kiss her and hold her, make her feel safe and warm. He wasn't happy about Ethanule's presence on the ship, she could tell. But she also knew he was itching for answers almost as badly as she was. She was just worried what those answers might be. After all this time, wondering where she came from and what came to be of her people…now she was afraid to know.

  The book had been brought to Sebastian's room and sat on the coffee table…unopened and neglected. Anya would stare at it sometimes, like right now, feeling a flood of contradictory emotions.

  Ethanule had said her people were at war and needed her help. Was she being selfish by ignoring the possibility that he was telling the truth? But honestly, what could she do about it?

  “Blow up a room full of electronics,” she said dully.

  And maybe that was enough. She had no knowledge or prior experience with war. Had no idea what to expect or how to proceed. The demons did, along with much of the crew, but she wouldn't ask them to get involved. It wasn't their responsibility. But is it mine?

  Furthermore, if Ethanule was telling the truth, how could her father have had the insight to plant Ethanule in her path, in the right place at the rig
ht time? Had he somehow set up the contract between the Serakians and Sebastian? And just how much did he know about where she'd been for two hundred and some odd years?

  She was clueless, and she knew it. She needed answers. Snatching up the book, she made her way toward the one man who could give them to her.

  * * *

  ——

  * * *

  Anya slammed the massive book down on a small table just outside of Ethanule's cell. She thought his cell would have included the plush pillow and blanket that she was allotted, but he had none. She felt a twinge of irritation at that, along with an even stronger sense of sentimentality from the memory.

  Ethanule's face lit up when he saw her. Hardening her features she demanded, “Tell me everything.”

  He tsked. “How can you expect me to remember anything under these harsh conditions?”

  “These conditions are hardly harsh, and you know it.”

  “It is lacking,” he replied. “Compared to what I had your cell furnished with? Which I'd say was more like a bed and breakfast.”

  She had to admit, he had her there. “I'm not in charge here. I have no say in how you're treated so perhaps you should have taken better care of the demons, rather than me.”

  “Oh, but you do have a say. Otherwise, I suspect I'd be in a much more dingy cell, without the comforting companionship of the good doctor over there.”

  From his desk, Doctor Oshwald humphed, not bothering to look up from his electronic notepad.

  “At least, that's what the female demon was muttering when she was manhandling me.”

  “Her name is Sonya, and in any case, there's nothing I can do about it now. You may be in here for a while, so you'd better start talking.”

  “You haven't been eager for information thus far. I've been feeling pretty neglected, actually.” When Anya rolled her eyes, he grew serious. “Look, I've risked my life and spent a lot of resources, time, and dignity, lowering myself to a common pirate, to get myself in a position to find you. I was a soldier in the king's elite army before I was sent on this mission. Do you think it was easy to become a high-ranking leader within the ranks of an entirely different race of people? And now that I've left them, I can never go back and claim the leadership I had worked three hundred and fifty years to acquire. It has already been passed on to my second. I gave it up to follow you.”

  “Why! Why go through all that trouble?”

  “Because you are the daughter of the king, third in line to the throne.”

  Anya blinked twice. Breath left her. Words left her. It couldn't be. “What?” she mouthed.

  “Over four hundred years ago, your father sent you and your two sisters away, just before the great conflict began. A conflict that is still under way. Our planet has been under siege since you've been gone.”

  Stunned, she replied, “I'm only two hundred years old. You have the wrong person.” She wasn't sure if she was relieved or disappointed by that.

  “With one hundred percent certainty I can guarantee, you are who I say you are.”

  She shook her head. “How can you be sure?” Was it possible that she'd lost more time on the Hell Ship than she'd originally thought? How long had Darius kept her unconscious while he had her hooked up to the ship? It couldn't have been over half her life…Could it?

  “The book,” Ethanule interrupted her thoughts. “Have you not tried to open the book?”

  With her eyes vacantly staring at nothing, she shook her head.

  He continued. “That will prove it. Only the three daughters of the king will be able to open it.”

  She stared at the book with hesitation. It was mysterious and dark, and threatened to turn her world upside down…again. “How do you know any of this?” she asked mindlessly.

  “It's complicated.”

  She narrowed her gaze. “Yes, you've said that before. I think you and I both have time for a complicated story.”

  “And I want my freedom.”

  “I've told you, there is nothing I can do…”

  “Bullshit.” He crossed his arms and clamped his mouth shut, signaling that he was done talking.

  She sighed. It was obvious she'd get nothing more out of him, and she wasn't ready to test out his book theory. Whether she didn't want to know the truth, or she wanted to hold on to a bit of fantasy just a little longer, she wasn't sure.

  She lifted the book firmly in her arms and turned for the door, pausing at the threshold to ask, “At least tell me the name of our people.”

  He studied her for a moment. “You truly don't remember?”

  “No.” A mixture of sorrow and shame coated her voice.

  “We are Faieara.”

  Chapter 22

  Faieara he'd said. Fai-ear-ra, with a roll of the tongue on the last syllable. Anya tested out the word as she made her way to the pub, book in hand. She was flooded with a strange feeling at finally being able to associate a name with her people. It was sort of a half-empty, half-full feeling. She now had a small part of a very large puzzle.

  Her plight must have been written all over her face for everyone to see, because when she entered the pub, Sonya took one look at her, motioned her to an free bar stool, and started mixing one of her unique concoctions. Anya took the seat, setting the book beside her, and lifted the pink liquid to her lips. The flavor was sweet and went down smoothly as she gulped.

  “Bad day?” Sonya mused when Anya set the empty glass back on the bar. She immediately began refilling it.

  “I'm a princess,” Anya blurted.

  Sonya raised an eyebrow at that. “Is that so? It's not a bad thing to be, I guess. Unless…” Her eyes twinkled with amusement. “Do they sacrifice princesses where you're from?” Anya was counting on Sonya to lighten her mood with her flippant personality, but when the question made Anya think a little longer than she should have. Sonya said in a more serious tone, “No…do they?”

  Anya shrugged. “I don't know. All I've learned so far is that my people are called Faieara and they may be involved in a war that has spanned four-hundred years or more. My father sent me, my mother, and apparently two of my sisters away, to avoid capture. And oh, yeah, did I mention I might be over four hundred years old, if what Ethanule says is even remotely true, which I don't know for sure. And somehow he thinks, at least, I believe he thinks that I am somehow capable of helping our people.” She tapped a finger over her temple. “Did I leave anything out?”

  “Oookay. Take a breath, everything will be fine.” Sonya was looking at her like she was crazy. “What about the book, what does it say in there?”

  Slumping her shoulders, she said, “I haven't opened it.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because only three people in the universe can open that book, according to Ethanule. And if it does open for me, then…well, that makes everything real. And if it doesn't open…?” She didn't finish her sentence.

  What exactly would it mean if it didn't open for her? She would still be a Faieara. Ethanule was definitely one of her people. She'd known it on some level the moment she was close enough to feel his energy, she just hadn't recognized it until he'd thrown the obvious in her face. But she wouldn't be a princess…with a father. A father who'd sent her to the Hell Ship and left her there for possibly four hundred years.

  Sonya wore a mask of sympathy, but her words were cogent. “Either you are who he says you are, or you're not. Whatever you find out, we're still here for you.”

  Anya's lips thinned into a half smile. “Thanks. It's just, I'm so close to finding out who I am, finally. But what if he's wrong?”

  With a crooked smile, Sonya replied, “I don't know princess, what if?”

  “Princess?” Cale appeared from behind her.

  “That's what the pirate told her she is.”

  “And you're going to listen to that schmuck?” Cale lifted the book off its stool and placed it on the bar, taking the seat for himself. Then he began fumbling with it. “Well? What's inside this thing
that's so important we had to fly it all the way across the universe in order to find out that it belongs to Anya?”

  Anya opened her mouth to respond, but Sonya answered for her, “She hasn't opened it yet.”

  “Why not?”

  Anya paused, mid-shrug, when an interesting thought came to her. “Why don't you try to open it?” If Cale was able to open it, then everything Ethanule claimed would be in question.

  “Fine,” he said and began pulling at the book. Anya took a sip of her drink while she watched. “There doesn't seem to be any kind of lock on it, just this flap that won't budge.” He wedged it between his legs, trying to pry the cover apart. A vein bulged in his forehead. “Feels like it's glued shut. If we traveled all the way here for this, then someone is going to pay.”

  “Sonya, why don't you try?” Anya suggested.

  Sonya nodded, reaching for the book. Dejected, Cale handed it over the bar, where Sonya too began grappling with the cover. At first glance it looked as though the flap was just resting against the book, but not even a corner of it had moved for them.

  Sonya set it on the bar in front of her. “Now you try.”

  Anya hesitantly lifted her hand over the flap. At the barest touch, a tiny invisible shockwave exploded, with the book at the center of it. A small jolt smashed into Anya. Both Cale and Sonya jumped at the feel of it. Anya's body began to prickle with the tingle of magic. That was the only word she could use to describe it. Magic. It was utterly foreign and vastly familiar at the same time. It pulsed through her body like a living thing.

  When she began to pull, the leather effortlessly peeled away. It was as easy as separating two dull magnets. She could feel the resistance, as though the flap wanted to return to its rightful place, but it easily relented under her touch. A comforting vibration rolled through her arm and down her spine, like a warm embrace.