The Trouble with Demons

by Shearin, Lisa

“Yes, you did put on quite a show,” my father agreed.

  I sat up in bed, and surprisingly it didn’t hurt. “How are we—?”

  “You’re dreaming. You picked the setting.”

  “Why are you—?”

  “Because we need to talk.”

  “Stop finishing my sentences!” I didn’t mean to snap, but apparently I needed to.

  “I know your thoughts as you think them, daughter. Isn’t communicating this way more—”

  “Annoying,” I finished for him. Two could play at that game.

  The corner of Eamaliel’s mouth quirked upward. “Since it’s your dream we’ll do it your way.”

  I threw back the blanket and got out of bed. I went to the window and yanked back the curtain. Instead of Mintha Row with its shops and cobblestone street, there was a gray void.

  My chest tightened. “You’re sure we’re not inside the Saghred?”

  “Positive. For some reason, your dream only includes this room.”

  “And you.”

  “Apparently you wanted to see me.”

  I could certainly understand why I’d want that. Get in trouble, go home to Dad.

  I let the curtain fall back over the window. “I’m sorry I yelled.”

  “No offense taken, Raine. I, of all people, understand your frustration.”

  And fear. Let’s not forget gut-clenching fear. I looked down at my wrists. Just because there weren’t manacles on my asleep self didn’t mean my real self wasn’t sporting a pair right now courtesy of Carnades Silvanus.

  “Thank you,” I said, sounding as exhausted as I remembered my real body felt. “I’ve had more than enough magic today.”

  “I hate being the bearer of bad news, but magic is what we need to talk about. And we need to do it quickly because you’re going to be waking up soon.”

  The tightness in my chest dropped into a knot in my stomach. “Waking up where?”

  Eamaliel knew I didn’t mean in bed in my dreams. “That I don’t know. I only see what you see. And at the moment, you’re unconscious and not seeing anything.”

  “Carnades could be taking you to prison,” purred a cultured and silky voice I knew only too well.

  Sarad Nukpana was reclining on my bed in the exact spot where I had been.

  “And it’s still warm,” he murmured, running a long-fingered hand over the sheets. His voice dropped, low and intimate. “Eamaliel isn’t the only one who knows exactly what you’re thinking.”

  Sarad Nukpana had been the chief counselor to the goblin king Sathrik Mal’Salin, and grand shaman of the Khrynsani, an ancient goblin secret society and military order. At least Sarad Nukpana had held those titles before a little quick thinking by yours truly had gotten him sucked into the Saghred. Nukpana and his boss wanted to get their hands on the rock and bring back the good old days of conquering kingdoms and enslaving thousands. Sarad Nukpana didn’t want me dead, just tormented for eternity.

  Here he was on my bed, in my dream. It wasn’t exactly torment, but it was close enough.

  I just looked at him. “So, what am I thinking now?”

  Nukpana smiled slowly, fangs peeking into view. “Such violence, little seeker. I don’t think what you propose is physically possible.”

  I showed him a few of my own teeth. “I won’t know until I try.”

  His black eyes glittered. “As always, I welcome your efforts.”

  Being trapped inside the Saghred hadn’t diminished the goblin shaman’s dark, exotic beauty one bit. His long black hair was shot through with silver and fell loosely around his strongly sculpted face; the tips of his upswept ears were barely visible through the midnight mass of his hair. Nukpana’s pearl gray skin set off what was any goblin’s most distinguishing feature—a pair of fangs that weren’t for decorative use only.

  “Since this is my dream, I say who stays and who goes,” I shot back smoothly. “Guess who doesn’t get to stay.”

  Nukpana’s smile spread. “As I said, I welcome your efforts.”

  I tried to not only ignore Sarad Nukpana on my bed, but to cease any thoughts of him, forget my memories of him, and blot out his very existence. I knew the last one wasn’t possible, but it never hurts to try.

  The goblin was still there.

  He laughed, a dark, rich sound. “Getting rid of me is easier said than done, little seeker. Perhaps dispatching those demons took more effort than you could spare.” He paused suggestively. “Or perhaps, you want me to stay. You just can’t say so in front of your father. I quite understand.”

  “You’re a parasite, Nukpana,” Eamaliel noted coolly. “You’ll merely take more effort to detach. Though such extreme measures are usually fatal—to the parasite.”

  The goblin’s dark eyes narrowed briefly, then he ignored Eamaliel, focusing all of his attention on me. Lucky me.

  “You may find this difficult to believe, but I hope Carnades hasn’t taken you into custody,” Nukpana said. “His Majesty’s lawyers and my Khrynsani would be disappointed if you were snatched from their grasp.”

  Sathrik Mal’Salin had sent lawyers to Mid to try to retrieve the Saghred and extradite me. When legal means didn’t work, he’d sent Khrynsani shamans and temple guards. So far the goblin king hadn’t gotten his hands on either me or the Saghred. The lawyers and Khrynsani were still on the island and still trying. I almost admired their tenacity.

  “What can I say? I’m the most popular spellslinger in town.”

  I felt rather than saw my father stand up. I didn’t blame him; I felt the same way. When a first-rate psychopath like Sarad Nukpana appeared in your bedroom, you didn’t want to be caught anywhere but on your feet. I was glad I hadn’t still been in bed when the goblin had slithered in. That would have gone way beyond creepy.

  “You said you would stay away from her,” Eamaliel said with quiet menace.

  Sarad Nukpana swung his long legs over the side of my bed. “I lied. Surely you didn’t expect me to actually keep my word.

  You’re the man of honor, not me. Honor and morals are an inefficient, unproductive waste of my time. By the way, the board is still as you left it, should you want to resume our game.” He turned to me. “Your father stormed off in the middle of a match; it was his move, and I wasn’t even cheating. He may be a man of honor, but he can be rude.” His fangs flashed in a quick grin. “Perhaps there’s hope for him yet.”

  I blinked at my father. “Game? You’re actually playing games with him?”

  “What an appropriate choice of words,” Nukpana said.

  “Your noble father plays games on many levels, little seeker. His powers of manipulation are admirable—and that says much coming from me.”

  “Chess, Raine,” Eamaliel clarified. “And yes, it is a way to pass the time and to keep an eye on this one. At least I know that while he’s sitting across from me, he’s not plotting with his allies.”

  Sarad Nukpana sighed dramatically. “He still doesn’t believe that my allies have all but evaporated. Literally.”

  I could believe that. Almost. The last time I’d been in the Saghred, I’d seen filmy figures, some more solid than others, most wasted away to wraiths. I’d also seen some who appeared to be as solid as Sarad Nukpana.

  “Unfortunately, their mental capacity evaporates with them,” the goblin was saying. “It’s difficult to scheme with yourself. I’m all alone.”

  I was sure he wasn’t. “I’m sure you’re managing,” was what I said.

  “Even the worst enemies when imprisoned together form a kind of camaraderie,” Nukpana said. “Your father and I have found some things in common. You, for one.”

  “You’re wasting Raine’s time, Sarad,” Eamaliel warned.

  “There’s all the time in the world inside the Saghred.”

  “She’s not inside the Saghred.”

  Nukpana smiled suggestively. “A goblin can dream, can’t he?”

  “What happened at the watcher station wasn’t your fault,” my father assured m
e. “If you hadn’t acted as decisively as you did, innocent people would have died, and many more would have met the same fate if those demons had escaped.”

  “Decisive. So that’s you call shoving one demon into a wine bottle and squashing another into a bloody pulp.”

  “I call it beautiful,” Sarad Nukpana said.

  Eamaliel shot him a dark look. “It was necessary.”

  “But I used the Saghred for the big, yellow one,” I said. For the purple demon, I’d used Tam. Or Tam had used me.

  “Because you had to,” my father was saying.

  I snorted. “Yeah, I could use it, or I could get ripped apart from the inside by the rock or from the outside by a demon. Some choice.”

  “That’s not what I meant. There was a need, and you acted.

  You did the right thing, the only thing. Yes, the Saghred is a force of death and destruction. But those things aren’t inherently evil. War is death and destruction; war is not inherently evil. People who misuse power are evil.” He shot an accusing look at Sarad Nukpana. “You used your power for the greater good.”

  And I had felt good using it. There, I’d admitted it. The Saghred’s full power had been terrifying, overwhelming, but it had also been intoxicating. And deep down, some dark part of me wanted to do it again.

  “And she took a couple of giant steps closer to insanity,” Nukpana was saying. “Either that or being locked up for the rest of her life, or getting a dagger in the back, whichever comes first.”

  “If I punched him, would my fist go through?” I asked Eamaliel.

  “It would. I’ve tried.”

  “Too bad.”

  “There were mages like Carnades in my time,” my father said. “Men who were absolutely convinced that their beliefs were right and just. Going through a self-righteous life wearing blinders will do that. They can’t accept that the world isn’t only black and white—there are many shades of gray.”

  I thought of Tam and what we’d done. “Tam,” I murmured. Sarad Nukpana pulled his legs up to sit cross-legged on my bed, a grin of eager anticipation on his face. “Ah yes, Tamnais Nathrach.” He rubbed his hands together. “Finally things are going to get interesting. What the two of you did was very naughty. It must have felt delicious. Tell me, just how good was it?”

  My father looked like he wanted to knock Nukpana off the other side of my bed and through the wall. It wouldn’t work, but that didn’t stop him from entertaining the idea. I was thinking along the same lines myself.

  “Tamnais Nathrach tries to be a good man,” Eamaliel said quietly. “But his past begins to catch up with him. His training and the instincts that feed his power may prove too much for him to resist in the end.”

  “I want to help him.”

  Nukpana chuckled. “You’re both going to need help.” “Shut up!” my father and I barked simultaneously.

  The goblin lay back on my pillows with a smug and knowing smile.

  I swallowed. “Carnades wants us both in prison and—”

  “That’s not what I mean,” Eamaliel said. “How long have you known Tamnais Nathrach?”

  “That’s important?”

  “Very.”

  “A little over two years.”

  “Have you heard the term ‘umi’atsu’?”

  “No. Should I?”

  “Umi’atsu is a goblin word meaning ‘life twins,’ ” Nukpana interrupted. He raised his hands in mock defense when my father shot him a scathing look. “Eamaliel, who better to tell her about goblin magic than me?”

  My father hesitated then nodded tightly.

  The goblin graciously inclined his head and continued. “An umi’atsu is a bond conceived between two powerful mages—usually goblin mages—binding them first through their magic, then hearing, sight, and finally their minds and souls. After that, an umi’atsu bond can only be broken by death.” Nukpana looked entirely too happy about that last part. “Some consider it a magical marriage of sorts—body and soul become one, until death do you part, all that sentimental nonsense.”

  Marriage? My mind seized onto that one word and locked up in panic.

  “What does that have to do with Tam and me?” I dimly heard myself ask.

  “Just everything.” Nukpana looked closely at me and smiled.

  “Why, Raine, are you getting cold feet? It’s a trifle late for that, the ceremony’s over.”

  “You’re saying that we’re . . .”

  “Umi’atsu,” Nukpana finished helpfully. “Magically mated, if you will. Though in my opinion Tamnais could have selected a more romantic location than under the elven embassy.” Nukpana’s black eyes glittered. “And I didn’t even get you a gift.”

  I desperately looked at my father.

  “What he says is true,” Eamaliel told me. “Such a bond can only be formed if the two mages were emotionally close prior to the incident that caused the bonding. Obviously the two of you must have been very close.”

  Tam and I were definitely close—he wanted to be even closer.

  My father’s face didn’t have much of an expression. I couldn’t tell if he was pissed, but he sure as hell wasn’t the proud father of the bride.

  Bride. Oh shit.

  I thought, considered, and concluded in the span of a few seconds. What I thought wasn’t pretty, and my conclusion didn’t make me happy. “When Tam said that we weren’t separate anymore, he knew what had happened.” He’d probably wanted it to happen. And if I found out that he’d done it on purpose, once I got my hands around his throat, I was going from bride to widow.

  Then I froze, unblinking. My heart tried to do flips in my chest, and questions tripped over each other in my mind. I’d just experienced something entirely too similar with Mychael. Could I be magically joined to both of them? Was it possible? Merely probable? And if so, was it illegal? Or just immoral? Maybe it was both, or neither.

  I felt really woozy all of a sudden. Either there wasn’t any air in the room, or I’d completely forgotten how to breathe.

  Nukpana was laughing. “Of course Tamnais knew. He was Queen Glicara Mal’Salin’s magical enforcer for five years. I’ve seen Tamnais Nathrach in action, little seeker. He knows only too well what goblin magic can do, especially the dark variety. He’s done enough of it himself.” The goblin leered. “And if something was enough fun, he would do it again.”

  “Tam’s not like that anymore.” I said it but I wasn’t entirely sure. I stifled a growl. For his sake, he’d better not be.

  Nukpana’s grin was slow and wicked. “Would you care to place a wager on that? A private wager?”

  My father spoke. “The two of you did what you had to—and unfortunately forged an umi’atsu bond. Tamnais is powerful enough to be one half of an umi’atsu. You are not. But you and the Saghred . . .”

  “Let me guess: it was enough.”

  “The level of magical power you and Nathrach generated to save those spellsingers was more than enough. Have you seen him since that night? In person?” he added.

  “No, we didn’t think it would be a good idea just now, what with Carnades thinking we’re forming our own league of darkness. Does he know about—”

  Sarad Nukpana snorted. “Of course Carnades Silvanus knows about magical bonds, especially anything that could involve a goblin. His life’s goal is to wipe every one of us from the face of the earth. So what if we conquered, tortured, and enslaved thousands of elves—that was hundreds of years ago. Ancient history. Some people don’t know when to let go of a grudge.”

  When I’d first met Carnades last week, he’d told me that he was an avid student of goblin history, and that only through knowledge can your enemy be defeated. To Carnades, every goblin was his enemy. Unfortunately a lot of powerful elves, mostly pure-blooded high elves and military types, felt exactly the same way. Part of me didn’t blame them; part of me actually sided with Sarad Nukpana. That was a scary thought.

  “But elves have become more adept at protecting themselves over the cen
turies,” Nukpana noted. “They may even be more intelligent than their rather dim ancestors.” He sighed nostalgically. “It’s not as easy to defeat and enslave elves as it used to be.”

  Cancel that. I agreed with Carnades, at least as far as eradicating this particular goblin was concerned.

  Eamaliel’s eyes met mine. “Raine, you have an umi’atsu bond with the chief shaman for the House of Mal’Salin—”

  “Former chief shaman,” I hurriedly corrected him.

  “To those such as Carnades Silvanus, that technicality makes no difference.”

  “And if I’m in this bond, the Saghred is in it.” I didn’t ask it as a question; I knew the answer.

  “Unfortunately correct,” he said softly.

  I plopped down in the chair. “Carnades is gonna love this. He’ll get me and Tam on the executioner’s block in one fell swoop.”

  And possibly Mychael along with us.

  A prickle of cold panic ran up my back. The walls of my room were fading and the gray void was seeping in.

  My father swore. “You’re waking up. Have a care, daughter.” His voice was fading, as was he. “And trust your instincts.”

  Sarad Nukpana’s mocking laughter came as if from far away. “You can’t trust anyone else.”

  I woke up, came to, whatever, as my eyes blinked their way open—and told me nothing. It was dark. I think I was under a blanket or cloak; however, I didn’t feel any manacles on my wrists. Good to know. I was also upside down, over someone’s shoulder, and that someone was moving fast. It felt like all the blood in my body had converged between my ears. My carrier adjusted my weight with a grunt. I knew that grunt. Vegard. If he was moving that fast and had to hide me under a cloak, yelling for him to put me down probably wouldn’t be a good idea. I opted for pounding my hand once on his armored back to at least let him know I was conscious.

  He responded by tightening his hold on my legs and running faster. That didn’t fill me with the warm and fuzzies about our situation.

  “Stop!”

  The sharp command came from in front of us. I heard steel being drawn from all around us. My blanket fell off, but I still couldn’t see jack squat.

  Footsteps echoed on stone, leisurely walking toward us. Then they stopped. A voice spoke, his words calm, his expectation nothing less than Vegard’s complete cooperation.