The Trouble With Demons rb-3

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The Trouble With Demons rb-3 Page 22

by Lisa Shearin


  I knew what he meant. “You have got to be kidding.”

  He smiled. “Would I lie, seeker?”

  In a heartbeat. But I knew in my gut that he wasn’t lying, at least not this time. To find the Scythe of Nen, I first had to find possibly the most elusive quarry I’d ever had to locate in my entire seeking career: a virgin on an island full of college students.

  “But know this, seeker-I do not make idle threats. Fail me in this and I will destroy you, but first I will destroy those you love.” His voice dropped to a low purr. “Yes, seeker. I know whom you love-and who loves you. You would protect them at any cost, even if you will not admit it to yourself except in your most private thoughts. Tamnais. You find him seductive, yet vulnerable, wounded by his past, wounds you want to heal, a past you secretly yearn to help him forget. He cannot forget his past.” Nukpana laughed softly. “And believe me, his past has not forgotten him. It’s coming for him; they are coming for him. And Mychael, the gallant knight, the noble protector of the people-and of you. He protects you for reasons you know, and for reasons he has only begun to acknowledge. I will twist his strength into his undoing.” The goblin’s eyes were the flat black of a shark. “I will destroy them first, then the nightingale; and after all of them are gone, and your pain and loss has become too much for you to bear, only then will I come for you.”

  He faded into the gray void.

  “Fail me not, seeker,” came his voice from far away.

  The goblin was gone. I told myself I could stop shaking now, but apparently I wasn’t finished yet.

  Sarad Nukpana was gone, but I was still here. Just me. All alone. By myself.

  And not waking up.

  I desperately wanted to wake up, but I couldn’t.

  “Raine,” came a distorted whisper from behind me in the mist.

  I spun, my hand going for a dagger. It wasn’t there. I couldn’t believe this; my dream self was completely unarmed. If I survived, I needed to have a serious talk with my dream self.

  “Daughter,” said the same voice, closer this time.

  My shoulders slumped in relief. “Why the hell didn’t you say that the first time?” My hands were still clenched in fists ready to fight. I think they were stuck that way.

  Eamaliel came out of the mist; or more accurately, the silvery mist formed into my father.

  “Bravo, daughter. It is dangerous to toy with one such as Sarad Nukpana.” He smiled. “Though you do it exceptionally well.”

  I held out my hand and looked at it. It’d stopped shaking. Almost. “Under different circumstances, it could have almost been fun. Though having me and mine threatened with torture, death, and eternal torment kind of took the shine off the whole experience.” I paused. “You heard everything?”

  “Every word.”

  “Is he lying?”

  “About what part?”

  “Me needing a virgin to find the Scythe of Nen.”

  “No, he did not lie.”

  I was so screwed, no pun intended. “I have to use something that doesn’t exist to find something I don’t know what it is.”

  My father’s gray eyes twinkled with mischief. “Sarad Nukpana doesn’t know, but I do.”

  I couldn’t believe my pointy ears. “The Scythe of Nen?”

  “The very thing. But knowing may not make finding it any easier.”

  “I don’t care. I’ll take anything at this point.”

  “It’s a dagger.”

  I couldn’t believe my ears again. “A dagger?”

  “It was forged by demons to open the Saghred. When the demons found the stone, it already contained trapped souls. The demon king wanted to open the Saghred to consume the souls inside.”

  I grimaced. I had an entirely unwanted image of using a knife to pry open an oyster.

  “So did the demon king get a chance to use the thing?”

  “He did; and since he’s in here, let’s just say it didn’t go as well as he planned.”

  “How the heck do you know all this?”

  “The demon king isn’t the only demon trapped inside the Saghred. There are others; one of them was the demon who forged the Scythe. He’s really not a bad sort for a demon, and he’s quite talkative. The king ordered him to open the Saghred for him so he could have the first pick of the souls inside.”

  “So if they’re in here, that means the Scythe doesn’t open the Saghred?”

  “Unfortunately, it works all too well. The king plucked out quite a few souls before the Saghred plucked back. The Scythe’s forger had plunged the dagger into the stone, the stone was open, the king was holding it in his hand…”

  I grimaced. “A pair of sacrifices waiting to happen.”

  “Exactly. The Saghred does not like to part with that which it has consumed.”

  I remembered that all too well from the Reaper. I had myself a head-to-toe shudder. “No, I don’t think it likes that at all.”

  I had a thought that I didn’t like at all. “There have to be thousands of daggers on this island.”

  “But only one of them is the Scythe of Nen.”

  I blew out my breath. “Okay, what does it look like?”

  “I have never seen it myself, but from what I’ve gathered, it’s a small dagger with a curved blade. The scabbard is ornately carved with cavorting demons.”

  I felt my lip curl up. “Cavorting?”

  “Unfortunately, yes. You’ll know it when you see it.”

  I added a stomach roll to my lip curl. “That’s something to look forward to.”

  “As to size, the entire weapon is no larger than my hand.”

  “So it could be hidden literally anywhere. Wonderful. I’m on an island with probably five virgins and thousands of daggers. Needle, haystack. Need I say more? Those aren’t my kind of odds.”

  “They could be better,” my father agreed.

  “And to liven things up, a demon horde is looking for the same thing, and they don’t need a virgin.” I had a really bad thought. “Or do they?”

  “Do you believe that they are close to finding the Scythe?”

  “Doesn’t look like it. We’ve got demons popping up all over the island, and the demon queen herself wants to have a heart-to-heart chat with me, if she has a heart,” I muttered. “She thinks I know where the Scythe is but just won’t tell her.”

  My father winced. “When you wake up, you may want to have Paladin Eiliesor take steps to protect the island’s virgins.”

  “Demons can sense that sort of thing?”

  “They can. Some claim that virginity even attracts them.”

  I groaned inwardly. I might not beat the demons to the Scythe, but I suddenly thought I knew where I could find a virgin. “I won’t be searching haystacks. I think I know someone.”

  “You don’t sound happy about it.”

  “And neither will he.”

  I really needed to sit down. In my next dream, there would be a chair. Too much had happened since I rolled out of bed this morning, and none of it had been good. I wasn’t the only one in danger; I could handle it if I were. Okay, at least I could handle it better. But because of me, because of the Saghred, some of the people I cared for the most were about to be at the mercy and whims of men who had no business wielding that kind of power. Overwhelmed pretty much covered how I felt. And scared. Definitely scared.

  “Raine?”

  “I’m scared, Dad.”

  He gently laid his hands on my shoulders. I didn’t know if I was imagining it-this was a dream after all-but his hands felt warm and strong.

  “Scared sounds like the right thing to be,” he said softly.

  “You’re in a bad situation-”

  “It’s my friends-”

  “Your good friends.”

  I nodded once and took a little breath. It shook just like the rest of me. “My very good friends.”

  “You fear for them.”

  “More than for me.”

  “Sarad Nukpana is a threat to you,
a very real threat. But know this, daughter. I am a very real threat to Sarad Nukpana. There are others like me, and he knows it.”

  I remembered what I’d seen the last time I was in the Saghred. Shadowy figures just waiting for Sarad Nukpana to give the word. “There are others like him-and worse.”

  “Makes life interesting.” Eamaliel grinned. “Or whatever it is we have in the Saghred.”

  “I want to get you out.”

  “No.” His gray eyes were like twin thunderclouds.

  “What do you mean, no?”

  “If you find the Scythe of Nen and try to release me, others will follow-others who should not be loose in the world. I am still a Guardian, and I still guard the Saghred from those who would abuse its power. I do the same thing, only now from the inside. As to Sarad Nukpana, leave him to me.” Those gray eyes went from grim to sparkling. “Or the demon king.”

  “What about the demon king?” I asked.

  “What about him?” My father’s expression was the very picture of innocence.

  “You’re smiling,” I said.

  “Am I? I wasn’t aware of it.”

  “If it’s something good, tell me. I could use a laugh.”

  “The demon king has an unspoken rule. We stay away from him; he doesn’t eat us. We feel it’s a fine arrangement.”

  I felt myself begin to smile along with him. “Let me guess. Nukpana’s the new kid on the block, and no one’s told him anything.”

  My father grinned from ear to ear. “We thought we’d let it be a surprise.”

  Chapter 20

  I woke up in the same place where I’d fallen asleep. I loved it when that happened.

  What I didn’t love, and couldn’t believe, was that Piaras had actually gone to class this morning. I didn’t care that the four Guardians who’d become the kid’s new shadows could squash flat anything that Sarad Nukpana tried. And even worse, Mychael had to leave the citadel only an hour ago to deal with what Vegard called a sizable demon outbreak in the center city. Sora, her faculty, and the grad students hadn’t been able to find the Hellgate.

  And my loyal Guardian bodyguard had let me sleep through every last bit of it.

  “Why didn’t you wake me up?”

  “The boss ordered me not to.”

  I stifled a growl-and some four-letter expressions of my displeasure-and strapped on my weapons. There was no use starting an argument. It wouldn’t change the fact that Piaras was somewhere on campus, Mychael was somewhere in the center city, and demons were all over the freaking place.

  I armed myself as fast as my sleep-induced grogginess would let me, which wasn’t nearly fast enough for me. Then I was out the door and down the corridor. I was almost running, and Vegard kept up. He was getting used to it.

  “Sizable meaning a lot of demons?” I asked. “Or one really big one?” I had a flashback to the big, yellow, and ultimately squishy demon that’d virtually taken apart watcher headquarters, and hoped nothing like that was rampaging through the city right now.

  “Sizable as in more than one.”

  That didn’t make me feel better about anything. I told Vegard some of what Sarad Nukpana had told me and all of what my father said about the Scythe of Nen and the only way to find it.

  I’d never seen the big Guardian look so completely baffled. “Virgins?”

  “Yeah, virgins. You know, people who haven’t had sex yet.”

  “I know what they are, ma’am.”

  “You just don’t know any here.”

  He barked with laughter. “In the citadel? Hell, no.”

  “I mean on the island.”

  “Well… I guess some of the students could possibly-”

  I waved my hand, cutting him off. “That’s what I figured. We’re going to see one of them now. I think. I hope.”

  “Which one?”

  I told him.

  Vegard chuckled. “No real surprise there. Though he’s not gonna like why you need him to help.”

  I’d come to that uncomfortable conclusion all by myself. For teenage boys, virginity didn’t exactly give them bragging rights. It was more like a disease they wanted to cure as soon as possible.

  I’d rather fight demons with Mychael.

  “Mychael probably doesn’t have time for this now, but Dad said that the demons might be looking to get themselves a virgin guide, too.”

  Vegard swore. “Though how many students could that apply to, realistically speaking?”

  “One student in demon claws would be enough,” I told him.

  “I’ll send a runner to the boss.”

  Or I could tell Mychael myself. Right now.

  I really trusted Vegard, trusted him with my life, but the fewer people who knew about my bond with Mychael and Tam, the better. And it would be safer for Vegard. If Carnades went into inquisition mode, I’d rather Vegard not end up on his list of interrogation subjects. Though after carrying me out of watcher headquarters yesterday, Vegard was probably the first name on Carnades’s list.

  “What is it, ma’am?”

  “Can you contact him?” I asked. “With mindspeak?” Mychael had contacted his men that way last night as backup for Piaras. Hopefully Vegard could do the same thing.

  “Normally I could, ma’am. But for some reason there’s too much distortion. It’s the same way all over the city. Must have something to do with the demons. Everyone is having to use runners.”

  I took a deep breath. Well, it couldn’t hurt to try. Maybe an umi’atsu bond could cut through demonic magical distortion.

  “Mychael?”

  Static. And no Mychael.

  Crap.

  Piaras had gone to Ronan Cayle’s tower for his morning voice lesson. I guess his way of dealing with everything that had happened last night was to do what he was supposed to be doing this morning.

  The kid was doing his job; I was doing mine. I had to find the Scythe of Nen, which meant I had to find a virgin. A demon would know instinctively whether Piaras was a virgin or not. I wasn’t a demon, so I wasn’t sure. I was actually going to have to ask the kid for confirmation.

  Now I’d really rather fight demons with Mychael.

  Ronan Cayle’s tower was only about a quarter mile from the citadel walls. I guess when you trained all of the Guardians’ top spellsingers it paid to be close to your best source of income. Uncle Ryn had often said the same thing about his home-port’s proximity to the eastern kingdom shipping lanes.

  There was a pair of Guardians at the door to Ronan’s tower. Good. Even better, they let us in when Vegard asked them the first time.

  I looked up through the center of the winding stair that spiraled toward infinity and hopefully the top of the tower.

  Dang.

  Vegard looked up with me. “Yeah, this is why I’m glad I can’t carry a tune.”

  And Ronan’s spellsinging students had to haul themselves to the top in less than three minutes.

  I was almost certain there was a top, even if I couldn’t see it. Ronan Cayle’s tower didn’t look that high from the outside. But I’d discovered that people weren’t the only things you couldn’t trust on Mid; you couldn’t trust your eyes, either.

  There was no impatient, toe-tapping maestro waiting at the top measuring our speed, but Vegard and I hustled anyway. Time was something none of us had. When we reached the top, we weren’t the only ones in Ronan’s reception area. Vegard exchanged greeting nods with a pair of huge Guardians who I assumed were two of Piaras’s new big brothers. I was wheezing like a punctured bellows; Vegard was trying to breathe normally and still get enough air to stay conscious. I guess he didn’t want his brothers to see him winded. I didn’t give a crap and kept right on gasping. The Guardians weren’t alone. Two goblins were standing in the shadows against the wall, armed and armored in more ways than one. I recognized them. Apparently Talon also had a voice lesson this morning, as well as guards of his own, courtesy of his dad’s dark mage school buddies. It made sense to me; who better to
protect Talon against Sarad Nukpana’s black magic? This pair probably knew every dirty trick in Nukpana’s book and had a few of their own. The Guardians and the goblins were keeping a wary eye on each other, but keeping their steel and spells to themselves. The boys were playing nice-for now. Unless one of them had to scratch, there shouldn’t be any fatalities.

  Vegard passed his hand over a crystal set into the wall next to the door. The crystal flashed once, and after a minute or so, Ronan answered the door.

  If you were a magic user, you’d heard of Maestro Ronan Cayle. The spellsinging master. The legend who only taught future legends. The maestro who turned out the finest spellsingers the Isle of Mid and the Conclave had to offer. The snappiest dresser I had ever seen.

  His robes were a riot of silk and color. Red, orange, amber, gold-every color that flame could be at one point or another in its capricious existence-Ronan managed to wear them all at once and wear them well. It was nothing short of a stunning fashion achievement.

  I was about to say as much when Ronan quickly held up a hand to stop me and put a warning finger to his lips. I shut up and froze, and so did Vegard.

  I cautiously looked over his shoulder. Ronan’s music room was filled with a profusion of cushions and rugs and furniture carved from exotic woods all topped with more cushions, all in sumptuous, brightly colored and gilded fabrics. A Nebian pasha’s throne room would have looked drab in comparison. Piaras and Talon were there along with another pair of large and highly watchful Guardians. Everyone was standing perfectly still, and the Guardians weren’t watching Piaras. They had their eyes on something else entirely and had glowing weapons in their hands. I looked where they were looking.

  Hellfire and damnation.

  A knee-high, naked, yellow, potbellied demon was sprawled like a Nebian pasha on a pile of silk cushions. His eyes were closed, and his fleshy lips stretched in what looked like a contented smile on his flat and ugly face.

  I’d squished his big brother yesterday.

 

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