“Yeah,” Light said, “get a little action, did you?”
She still didn’t know their names. She hadn’t asked again, and she didn’t pay enough attention to the interactions between the others in her squad to have heard anyone else use them.
She had met the third woman the day before, and while she did not try to taunt Kate like the others, she was very quiet. Quiet to the point where she wouldn’t even answer when Kate asked her a direct question. In her mind, Kate named this one Mouse. It was fitting because of the girl’s small stature and her dull brown hair.
“I was at the library,” she said, doffing her armor to prepare for bed.
“The library?” Light said. “Why would you be at the library? You got the hots for one of those Tans?”
“Why must everything with you be about interaction with the opposite sex?” Kate asked, not caring about the answer but speaking to fill the silence. She had found that if she remained quiet, the other two women would pelt her with insults until they got some kind of reaction. Kate knew they wanted her to get angry, but she was not about to satisfy that desire.
“What else is there?” Dark answered.
Kate stopped in the midst of unstrapping her breastplate. She stared open-mouthed at the dark-haired woman.
“Are you truly serious? Is that another jest, or do you really feel that there is nothing more important than physical interactions with men?”
“What?” was all Dark said.
Kate huffed a breath. “Do you really think there is nothing more important than sex?”
“Oh. Of course. Like I said, what else is there?”
Light was nodding her head. Mouse cast furtive glances at all three of them but showed no other sign she was paying attention.
“How about service, and honor? What of the mission of the Order and the protection of all humans from the demon invasion? What of improving ourselves to become the best we can be, to more efficiently perform the tasks assigned to us in this important work? What of those things?”
“None of those things sound as fun as sex,” Light said.
And there it was. These women, at least the two vocal ones, found nothing else in life as satisfying as carnal pleasure. While Kate could not attest to those types of practices, she didn’t believe she would ever hold them above honor and service.
It was true that one must perform those actions to procreate, thereby performing a service to the human race by propagating the species, but there was time for that later. While one was strong and agile, it was more important to perform useful service that others could not.
She shook her head at the whole thing. The women might be so unskilled that they felt their only talent was to please a man…or themselves. But no. They were young. With training, they could achieve a semblance of competence in battle. The fault lay in their attitudes, in their thoughts.
The entire thing disgusted her. She turned her back on them and continued stripping off her armor.
Light circled around her to face her. “So, why did you go to the library?”
“That is where the books are,” was all Kate would deign to say.
Light muttered something and went back to her own bunk. Kate finished preparing for bed, climbed into her bunk, turned her face to the wall, and was soon asleep. She had trained herself to sleep lightly—or rather, Dante had trained her to do so—so she had no fear that the women would try to attack her in her sleep. Her sword was propped near her head, and the dagger under her pillow was readily accessible.
No, she wasn’t afraid of what the women would do, but as she drifted off to sleep, she wondered if the demons knew about her and if they would try to visit her in the night.
22
The next morning, Kate was up early, dressed, and out of the room before any of the other three even woke up. She had to go and tell Molara what she had found, but first, she needed to eat.
Wilfred was in his usual location—their usual location—when she entered the mess hall. He was engrossed in a book, eating absently as he read. After she got her food, she joined him.
“Good morning,” she said.
He put the book down. “Oh, Kate. Good morning.”
“It seems a long time since I’ve seen you. How are you?”
He quirked a brow at her—he had just seen her two days ago when the entire Infirium met in the secret section of the library—but then a knowing look came over his face. Meetings in the library were secret. “I’m fine. Yes, it’s been a while since we’ve eaten together. I guess we’ve both been busy.”
“What are you reading?”
He hefted the book. “Oh this. It’s just a history of the Order. Believe it or not, it is actually interesting.”
“Ah, History of Fire, by Malcus Finnian. Yes, I have read it.”
“Of course you have. I have never met anyone who has read so much, except maybe your friend Molara.”
“Oh, come now, Wilfred. Molara is your friend, too.”
“I guess.”
She took a bite of the mushy material they had ladled onto her tray and grimaced. “What’s wrong? You look a bit down.”
“I don’t know. Maybe it’s just everyone’s attitude lately. I have nearly gotten into fistfights when people around me start talking bad about the Black. It’s even worse since the…well, you know. People are calling all the Black traitors and whores’ sons and worse. My best friend is…was Black. I can’t sit there and let them spew out their poison without saying something to defend them, you, us. Whatever.”
Kate put her hand on Wilfred’s, still on top of the book as it rested on the table. When she did, his eyes jumped up to hers. “Wilfred, I appreciate you standing up for the Black in that way, but you shouldn’t. Tempers are running hot right now, and people are agitated. If you keep arguing, you will get into a fight, and you know how that will end.”
“I know I can’t fight,” he said, dropping his gaze to the rough wood planking of the table. “And to be honest, it’s not just for you. It irritates me that no one remembers all the heroic things the Black have done. Even with only what I have witnessed, you amaze me. They act like none of the Black’s sacrifices or work are worth anything. In the short time I have been in the Order, I have seen several situations where if the Black had not intervened, battles would have been lost. How does one simply forget about such things?”
He nodded toward his book. “In this book, and in all the histories I’ve ever seen on the Order, the one common thing is that the Black hold it all together. It can probably be said that the Black are the Order.”
“I know.” Kate patted his hand and then removed her own. “It is inexplicable to me that it could be so. But it is. Perhaps it’s—” She looked around to make sure no one was close enough to hear, but lowered her voice anyway. “Something else that is affecting peoples’ minds, making them forget. Let us not forget the things the enemy can do. Remember Charity and our squad at Faerdham.”
Wilfred’s eyes widened. “Do you really think—?”
Kate took the last bite of whatever mushy food was on her plate and stood up. “Let’s go somewhere else to talk. Are you on duty today?”
“No. I was trying to figure out what I could do to avoid getting into a fight.”
“Perfect. Come, I have just the thing to distract you.”
They hurriedly left the building and headed toward the library.
“I told Molara I would go to her today since I am not on duty,” Kate said. “We have some planning to do, and I think we could use your help.”
“Really? You want my help in planning?”
She winked at him. “Of course. Didn’t I just say so?”
He picked up his steps and pumped his arms with purpose, the history book firmly clasped in his right hand. The smile he wore split his face in half. Kate figured that meant she had said the right thing.
As they passed through a large intersection of several streets, near Parade Square, Kate stopped Wilfred with a hand on his shoulder.
“Hold on,” she said. “I want to try something. Come over here to this shaded area.”
He looked puzzled but went along with her.
“Now, I want you to stand right there to block people’s view of me. You can face me like we’ve simply stopped to talk in a shady alcove.”
“Okay,” he said. “But what is this about?”
“I’ll explain it in a moment.” She sighted the intersection over his shoulder and nudged him a little to her left. Then she put up her hood and extracted the glasses from their case.
“I didn’t know you wore glasses,” he said, eyeing the delicate frames.
“I don’t.”
“But…those are eyeglasses.”
She slipped them onto her face and scanned the intersection quickly. “Yes and no.”
Wilfred scratched his head. “Yes and no?”
“A moment.”
As expected, the glasses did give the world a light red tint in the daylight. Surprisingly, she found that they also seemed to cut the glare of the sun as she looked at the brightly lit stone buildings. She could see the advantage in wearing glasses such as these to keep her from squinting on bright days. Maybe Molara would make her some simply for that purpose.
But her mind was wandering. She needed to perform her test and take the glasses off before anyone saw her with them on.
She was shocked to see that the same purple pillars were visible in the daylight. They were a darker purple, contrasting better with the surroundings, but they were obviously the same magical demon signature as she had seen the night before. There were at least a dozen in the wide space between streets.
As she was going to take the glasses off, she looked down and was shocked to see sets of footprints at her feet. Demons, or at least one demon several times, had walked right where she was standing.
She pulled the glasses off and lowered her hood.
“There. I’m done.”
“Done with what?” Wilfred asked.
Kate scanned her surroundings for anyone who seemed to be paying attention to her. “With my test. Come on. I’ll tell you about it when we get to where we’re going. There are too many people here.”
They made it through the secret door in the library without mishap. Molara and Peiros were sitting at one of the tables in the general area. Both lifted their heads when Kate and Wilfred walked in.
“Good morning, Kate,” Molara said, “and Wilfred, what a surprise. Are you going to join us in the planning?”
The Blue swung his head back and forth from Molara to Kate and back again. “I, um, yes, if that’s all right with you.”
“Of course. We’ll be glad for your aid. Pull up a chair. Peiros and I will be with you in a moment. Just let us finish this passage we’re working on.”
Once again, Kate’s heart warmed at her friend’s actions. Molara and Wilfred didn’t have what could be called a strained relationship, but neither did they really see each other as friends, as evidenced by Wilfred’s earlier words. Yet the Purple did her best to show the timid Blue extraordinary kindness.
These were the type of honorable people she wanted to be around, not the horrible, selfish ones she was forced to interact with each day.
“No, no,” Molara said softly to Peiros, “azentira can’t mean war. In this passage in this book—furea khazen azentiras dulethen—it clearly means hatred.”
Peiros tapped a pen against his temple, mouthing the words silently. “Yes, I can see your point. But perhaps it can mean both. In this passage—” he retrieved another of the books they had found when they were in Hell “—the phrase furea khazen fronassen is used in the same way as in this other reference, but with the word fronassen in the place of azentira.” He slid a third tome toward Molara. “We already established that fronassen was war or battle.
“Hmm,” Molara said. “I see your point. Maybe azentira is a common root. I thought I saw instances of words that seemed to share a similar form.” She jotted a note down on a half-filled sheet of paper in front of her. “Let me think about it and do some more research. I think this word is important. It appears three times in the main kellmanach xurki passage.”
“I agree,” Peiros said. He turned to Kate and Wilfred. “My apologies for my rudeness. Good morning Kate, Wilfred. I find it difficult to release my mind to other thoughts when I am reading demon speak. I have not the ability to switch it off and on as Molara does.”
“Oh, don’t sell yourself short,” the Purple complained. “To me, it’s an educational exercise. You actually think in demon when you translate. It’s the difference between this lamp and the sun. I could never speak the language fluently as you do.”
Peiros put his hands together in front of his face and gave Molara a seated bow, to which she dipped her head in recognition.
“Wow,” Wilfred said. “Being around the three of you makes me feel like the simple cousin.” When Peiros tilted his head, Wilfred added, “You make me feel stupid.”
“I know the feeling,” Kate said. “I feel the same when those two start talking about languages…or anything, really.”
“Nonsense,” Molara said. “We all have our areas of expertise. They are only different skills, none better or worse than another.”
“Speaking of skills,” Kate said, “did you tell Peiros about your newest invention?”
Molara’s eyebrows raised. “Oh. No, I haven’t. When he got here, I had been reading through this passage and assailed him with questions as soon as he sat down. We’ve only been at it for an hour or so. I didn’t even make tea. I’m a horrible hostess.”
Kate laughed. “Sure you are. Your skills at making someone feel at home would impress even my mother, the duchess. No, don’t get up. Let me make the tea for once.”
“Why thank you, my fine lady Kate,” Molara said with a wink.
Kate pulled off a perfect curtsy, even managing to make it look elegant with her sword and shield strapped to her back. She rose and set about her task. She was well familiar with the layout of Molara’s small kitchen, so in no time, she brought a tray with tea and small loaves of bread with butter and honey to the others.
“I found these loaves,” she said. “I hope it’s not being presumptuous to bring them out.”
“Of course not. I made them this morning because I knew you were coming.”
Kate found herself staring at her friend with her mouth open. “You, you make all the cakes and bread that we eat with tea?”
“Of course. Where else do you think they come from?”
“I don’t know. I never really thought of it. Do you ever sleep?”
Molara chuckled. “Now and then. Come on, Lady Kate. Serve the tea already. You have delayed me telling Peiros about our new tool for long enough.”
Soon, everyone had tea and was settled in for Molara’s news.
“I found something in a book that sparked an idea a month or so back. Basing my work on the invisibility stones I made for the Black team that went into Hell, I made something I think has never been done before. I made a way to detect if demons have been around.
“You see, demons all have at least a little bit of magic. It’s not necessarily that they can use it, but being from Hell and perhaps even needing it to live, they are infused with some small magic. I think maybe it’s the thing that makes them invulnerable to normal weapons so that we need the firestones to counteract it to even harm them.
“Anyway, I found a way to look for that trace of magic. As it turns out, it leaves a signature, a type of trail. At least, I think so.”
“Demon stink, she called it,” Kate added.
Molara eyed her friend but continued when Kate didn’t say anything else. “Yes, demon stink, though you can’t smell it. Don’t confuse it with the actual odor demons have, which I hear can be a bit overwhelming at times.”
“Yes, it is,” Wilfred said. “After a day working near the gate, I have to scrub myself and wash my hair, or I smell the foul odor as I try to sleep.”
“Yes,” Molara said. “But this demon stink—the metaphorical type—can persist for several days. I’m not sure how long, but it dissipates slowly. My new invention can help someone see that demon trail.”
“Oh,” Wilfred exclaimed. “The glasses. She’s talking about the glasses!” He excitedly looked back and forth from Kate to Molara.
“The glasses,” Molara agreed, smiling. “I take it you tested them out, then, Kate? And you told Wilfred about them?”
“I tested them, yes. I did not tell Wilfred about them, but he saw me use them briefly this morning during another test.”
“And?” Molara leaned toward Kate, eyes wide.
Kate smirked. “Oh, they are very fashionable. I was thinking I would like to wear them all the time. They make me look quite fetching.”
Molara growled softly in her throat. “Yes, yes, you are gorgeous wearing anything or nothing at all, I’m sure. What about your test?”
Kate raised her chin. “Touchy, touchy. I was getting to that. I used them last night in an empty alleyway and found a purple mist, like a pillar on its side, traversing the alley. When I looked more closely, I saw glowing purple claw prints. They were easily visible in the dark. The glasses did not interfere with my normal vision, by the way.
“This morning, I wanted to see how they worked in the daylight because what I saw last night would have been too dim to see in the light. I had Wilfred shield me as I put the glasses on in a small, abandoned street just off a busy intersection. The one where D, Fourth, and Maligny Road cross. You know the one.
“To my surprise, the trails were clearly visible even in the bright sunlight. They are a darker purple in daylight, though still somehow glowing, almost like the gate itself. I found at least a dozen of the trails when I glanced into the intersection, and one going down the small street in which I was standing. So, they work remarkably well, as is to be expected from our resident genius of magic.”
“Ooh!” Molara said, hopping in her seat. “That’s great!”
“I would mention, also, that the glasses themselves, with their light red tint, help to ease the eyes in bright sunlight. Once all this is done, I plan on begging you to make me a pair—without the magic, of course—that I can wear so I needn’t squint on bright days.”
Order of the Fire Box Set Page 61