Demons of the Flame Sea

by Jean Johnson

  “Bow before the might and authority of the Medjant Kumon,” Kuro Nazik stated, her voice echoing off the stone walls surrounding them. “You come before the Sejo Zakal Kurukan, and the Seso Parut Darakun. Give them your respect as your superiors and your hosts. My Sejo, my Seso, I present to you members of the pantean and tribe of the Flame Sea. Foremost is second-rank Éfan, chief mage of the pantean.”

  That was the lead Fae, who wore the long robes favored by Fae magic-wielders. He dipped his head politely, but did not bow. Arrogant. At least he was in the lead, distinguishable from the rest. Zakal studied him closely, trying to pick out the differences that would keep her from confusing him with the rest of his kind. All this golden clothing and yellow hair and golden skin and yellow eyes, it all blended together. Nothing stood out, save his height and his clothes, and maybe the length of his hair.

  “Law-Sayer Kefer, and Negotiator Jinji.”

  Another fellow in robes, and darker blond hair. A woman in . . . reddish clothes, as well as all of that annoying yellow? Proper colors, not just bland shades of blah. But . . . young looking. Very young, save for a shrewd look in those eyes. Both dipped their heads in polite respect, a little lower than the first of the Fae had.

  “Guh-veen Krue,” Kuro Nazik announced next.

  That sharpened Zakal’s attention. A Gh’vin, here? One of the fabled guardian-warriors of the Fae nation? In a way, that flattered her; the local Fae were taking her medjant as a serious threat to their interests. In another way, that annoyed her; she was here for business reasons, not for combat and war.

  “And the Fae Muan.”

  No title? Zakal consigned the woman to being the taro of this particular group, least-ranked. At least, among the Fae. The woman Muan still held a much higher rank than the rest of the lot, being humans.

  Nazik announced the humans next. “With them are the . . . Shae . . . named Ban,” she stated, hesitating over the Fae term for outworlder; the one policy the Fae shared with the Efrijt was not to name themselves as coming from another universe entirely, since that required far too lengthy of explanations to make sense for most primitive cultures. “And second-rank Animadj Zuki . . .”

  The tattooed man merely stared at her. Beside him, the shorter woman with the bone beadwork on her clothes did not even bow her gray-streaked head.

  “Chief warrior Toruk, hunter Talgan, and huntress Hallo,” Nazik introduced next. All three humans bowed their heads politely, mollifying the sejo. Interestingly enough, Toruk and Talgan had blond hair, making them most likely half-breeds. The woman, Hallo, shared the same sun-brown skin, but her dark brown locks were very much native in hue. Nazik flicked her fingers dismissively at the last member of the group. “And the animadj apprentice, Tuki.”

  The youth, younger even than the Fae Jinji, bowed his upper body respectfully. He did not lower his gaze, however. Zakal debated whether that was a sign of disrespect, or a sign of wariness. She decided on wariness for now. The humans of this world were primitive in many ways, but they were not entirely foolish.

  It was time for her to address the cluster of visitors. Since negotiations always went more easily when started with a touch of hospitality—pretense or otherwise—she swept her hand outward, indicating their surroundings. “Welcome to Medjant Kumon, and the settlements of the Red Rocks Tribe. Since you saw fit to trade information for lodgings for our taro—”

  “—We brought payment,” the lead Fae stated. “One of a nature the Efrijt will appreciate. You can pay the humans who help provide hospitality for us out of whatever profits you make from this. It should cover all the visits between now and the completion of our contract . . . provided that settling the contract does not take more than a year.”

  He dipped his hand into a pouch at his waist, and pulled out a small carved box. It rested on his palm for a moment, then floated forward. Halfway there, something else floated through the air, a shimmering sphere about the size of a child’s head. It emerged from the nearest brazier and zipped along faster than the floating box, arrowing straight for the lead outworlder. He glanced at it, but didn’t blink when it impacted on his body and vanished. Another one came arrowing in from a burning brazier on the other side, and a third from another fire.

  “What . . . ?” Parut asked, startled. A fourth brazier disgorged an anima-spark, fire being the easiest of elements to draw magical energies from in this world. The head of operations sat up a little, frowning at the crackling flames.

  “It is a side effect of our presence in this region,” the leader of the group dismissed. Ay-fan, that was his name. “The local energies are naturally drawn out of any nonliving source, heading straight to any Fae casting magics. Animadjet who release their energies as spells also have a similar problem with the energies being diverted from their intended purpose. That is, if a Fae casting magics of their own is within range. We have learned to shield against it, and I will do so now so that it does not happen again without deliberate intention . . . but I thought it best you saw the phenomenon for yourself.”

  Oh, arrogant, pointy-eared . . . ! Zakal had to acknowledge the ploy for its effectiveness, however. The sight of pure anima drawing itself out of the flames with no visible effort whatsoever was a very subtle yet dire threat. If they can do that without effort, and must actively shield against it . . . I want that much power for my medjant!

  Unfortunately, if the Fae entered into a contract with the Efrijt, the outworlders knew enough that they could demand the precedents be reviewed by the Adjuti, the body of powerful law-judges who could punish anyone who broke a contract. Possession being the greatest part of the law, whoever established a holding on a world first had the greatest claim to ruling it, and the greatest leverage for tilting the terms of any contract in their favor. Forty-six years is a lot of leverage, compared to just four.

  The box drifted to a stop in front of her. Zakal debated dredging up the magic to open it. She was fairly certain the Fae had no treachery planned; his own kind would outcast him for it. Plucking the box from the grip of his spell, she opened the tiny casket, not much bigger than an egg . . . and stared at the clear glass vial nestled inside the padded container. Liquid silver sloshed inside, a full dram’s worth.

  Mercury. Enough for a group this size to be housed for a full year. Exactly as the Fae Éfan had claimed it should cover. Handing the open box to the seso seated to her left, she eyed the Fae. “You are well-informed on the current value for such things.”

  Éfan started to say something, but footsteps approaching from her right interrupted his speech. Sefo Harkut entered, his deep violet clothing contrasting with her black and Parut’s deep red. He eyed the cluster of newcomers, but otherwise ignored them. Heading straight to Zakal, he offered her a folded paper, bowed his head in deference to her position as the head of their triumvirate, and took his seat.

  Kuro Nazik spoke while Zakal opened the paper, introducing Sefo Harkut Akantu to the strangers, and the strangers to their chief of finance and contracts. Harkut’s neatly scribed penmanship greeted the sejo’s eyes . . . and it took all she had to keep those eyes from widening and betraying the note’s contents.

  . . . Our people have learned that the Fae have closed all of their Veilways while they host some outworlder some group calling themselves the Daemashevar. Even their cross-realm connections between outworlds have been sealed, as per long-standing Fae policy. This means that tens of thousands of Fae-touched worlds are now without support and backup. It is not certain how long these closures will last, though the rumor translates to sixty or so days local, maybe a little more, maybe a little less. Because of this window of vulnerability, the Supreme Being has decreed an encouragement for all medjant entering into negotiations or renegotiations with the Fae to conclude them during this timeframe, so that they do not have access to their full archives of contractual precedents, and cannot argue such things successfully . . .

  A mix of ho
pe and triumph rushed through her blood. Controlling her reactions, Zakal held out the note to her left, letting Seso Parut take it and read it for himself. He did not hide his own reactions completely; she saw his eyes widen slightly out of the corner of her vision, saw his mouth sag just enough to bare the tips of his tusks. Zakal wasn’t sure how much of her own surprise had showed, but she knew at least three of their visitors noticed Parut’s: the short, young Fae; the tall, annoying, tattooed human; and the human youth.

  The human youth was dismissible. The tall man who called himself Death . . . less so. He had managed to run over a month’s worth of walking in just a dozen days. He clearly did not like the Efrijt, and in his reports, Taro Anzak claimed that everyone in the Flame Sea settlement said that the tattooed man held a very close and influential position to the Fae leader. The young Fae woman . . . Anzak had reported rather unhappily on her sheer competence as an interrogator.

  Zakal would not underestimate the girl. She knew of several Efrijt who looked almost that young, yet were easily twice her own age. If this Negotiator Jinji learns that we know they are cut off for a while, she is certainly smart enough to stretch out the negotiations until that connection is restored. Which means I need to stall just long enough to consult with Harkut and Parut on how to attack, and try to drive a good contract through within the next month. They will try to stretch it past two. We must entice them into believing it is within their best interests to sign early.

  The reintroductions came to an end. Her thoughts marshalled, Zakal spoke smoothly, managing a faint smile that merely curved her lips, and did not expose her tusks. “Your payment for food and lodgings during these negotiations is accepted . . . provided the negotiations do not take more than a year, and the size of your party per visit is similar, or adjusted accordingly in value to the duration of your visits. We have adequate quarters for you that have been prepared across the valley from this audience hall.”

  The law-sayer, the Fae male with the darker blond hair, spoke. “We hope to be able to enjoy your hospitality for at least a few days before beginning negotiations in earnest. But I trust there is an adequate negotiation chamber available in this location? We of course have one available, along with excellent quarters for when the counteroffers take place during your visit to our settlement.”

  Annoying el-fae, she thought, maintaining that faint smile. Implying with your mention of excellent quarters that our adequate quarters are inferior, even though you just arrived, and have not seen them. Unfortunately, while the furnishings were sumptuous enough even by Efrijt standards—imported at an expense of an eighth dram of mercury, and far superior to anything the locals could produce—the actual chambers were still a bit rough-hewn. And the idea of multiple visits, plus reciprocal visit, implies you intend to stretch this out as long as possible.

  She didn’t call him a slimy son of his people aloud, however. Instead, she merely said, “I trust we will find them adequate, should we visit.”

  That made the young Fae arch her brow. “You imply that these negotiations will be short?”

  “There are more than enough resources for all to share. We can easily divide everything between us,” Parut replied. A prepared statement, it implied quite a lot. That all meant the local humans as well as the outworlders among them, without actually promising that specifically, while the we and us meant the Fae and the Efrijt a little more specifically . . . but again, without promising anything.

  The young-looking negotiator smiled back serenely. “We have plenty of time to decide who owns what, if anything . . . though which of us has precedence is already quite clear.”

  “Precedence of longevity can be applied in both cases,” Sefo Harkut asserted smoothly. “As in the case of Ein-Affet Na Karet of Medjant Shakun of Seriessteh, of the interdimensional case catalog number 117-197-288-033-764-813, any medjant that has established and supported the locals for more than three years has a valid claim to protectorate ownership of a particular region, up to and including all rights and responsibilities pertaining to regional leadership and ownership.”

  The darker-haired Fae, Kefer, responded swiftly and smoothly himself, citing, “But in the more recent case of Kashish Nal Kasiquah Ein-Shodat of Medjant Suffnaka of Tzigary, catalog number 117-197-288-041-338-627, the Adjuti and the Supreme Being have agreed that proportional duration of occupation has greater weight in precedence, particularly when the proportion of the lesser is less than ten percent of the greater.”

  Harkut shook his head. “Catalog number 117-197-288-041-338-627 is applicable only in cases wherein indigenous parties in the lesser-precedence region petition independently of interference specifically for autonomy from subjugative protectorship. You cannot request that our indigenous population make such a petition without invoking a clause of interference . . . just as we cannot request it of yours.”

  “The Ein-Dai Inheritance rules, which were referenced and appended in annex sub-number 027 of the cataloged case ending 041-627, stipulate that half-breeds integrated within an indigenous population can make such a request,” Kefer countered.

  “That is assuming they can make such a request on a planetary scale,” Harkut cautioned him. “The cataloged case of 098-662-723-485-083-177 already overruled planetary-wide petitions for indigenous or half-breed populations in cases of precedence wherein both parties have been established in local protectorates for more than three years.”

  Zakal spoke even as the law-sayer for the Fae drew in a breath to counterargue. “Thank you, Sefo Harkut, for your stirring preliminary defense of our rights . . . and thank you, Law-Sayer Kefer, for being so spirited and knowledgeable. As your negotiator says, we do have plenty of time in which to conduct these proposals and counterproposals. You have just arrived,” she reminded everyone smoothly, her fellow triumvirate member as well as the Flame Sea contingent. “You deserve being shown to your guest quarters, and given a chance to relax after traveling such a great distance.

  “Kuro Nazik, did they park their transport in a safe location?” she asked the highest-ranked Efrijt to greet the group. “Or is it still in our plaza? We would not want it damaged by curious youngsters.”

  “It is still parked in the plaza, Sejo,” Kuro Nazik replied, bowing. “The second-rank cast a warding shield over it, and Taro Anzak arranged to watch over it, in case the warding failed.”

  “I would be happy to park our sky barge against the side of a cliff,” Éfan offered. “Up out of reach of the curious, of course. Above and to one side of this audience chamber would be a good place, as the cliff wall is more or less vertical and thus very difficult to scale by curious mischief-makers.”

  “Can your magics be trusted to hold it there?” Parut asked. “Without draining away our local energies?”

  “It operates on stored sunlight, and does not require any anima to levitate,” the Fae explained lightly. “I need only tether it to the wall with an anchoring cable above the reach of any curious youngsters, and then lock the controls so that it cannot be moved by anyone lacking the key. But if you prefer, I can easily shape a ledge for it to sit upon, so that it is fully supported, and not reliant upon sunpower to hover.”

  Zakal seized on the latter option. A demonstration of how the Fae manipulated the local stone would make an excellent chance to study just how easily and strongly they manipulated the local energies. “A safety ledge would be appreciated, in case the weather turns heavily overcast for the whole length of your stay. But we must insist upon observing the shaping of the ledge, to ensure it is done safely. The anima of this region is important to the indigenous inhabitants.”

  The Fae hesitated, making her wonder why. When Éfan spoke, however, the subject was not one she expected. “I would be happy to do so, and do not mind being observed. However, I would prefer to wait until you can spread word to the local animadjet that the anima will be moving in unexpected ways. Stoneshaping requires a lot of magic be used; even wit
h shielding, doing so will disrupt whatever spells they may be trying to cast. Actively used anima is more vulnerable to veering off course, and I would not wish to interrupt something delicate or vital, such as a healing session, or perhaps water purifying.”

  Exchanging a look with Parut, who oversaw more magical use than she did, Zakal nodded slightly to let him reply. He eyed the Fae and dipped his head slightly. “A delay is acceptable, provided the transport is moved by this time tomorrow. How far should the warning be given?”

  “If I work shielded, then I think only those living and working within half a selijm need be alerted, to use local measurements,” Éfan stated.

  Parut narrowed his eyes slightly. “And if you worked unshielded?”

  “At least two selijm in every direction.” Éfan did not even blink. “That is the boundary at which I have noticed minor spellwork ceases to suck in the ambient anima. But I would not be so rude as to work unshielded when it is not necessary.”

  “Your courtesy is appreciated,” Parut replied flatly.

  Equally unsettled, since even Zakal knew a selijm was an hour’s steady walk by humans accustomed to walking everywhere, and who thus moved quickly, she gestured at the doorway. “Kuro Nazik, escort our guests to their quarters. We will prepare the region for a display of Fae mastery over the local anima—you will, of course, agree to allow our animadjet to observe?”

  The aging woman, Zuki, replied to that. “Of course. And while they do so, I will answer questions from my fellow animadjet on what the Fae do, and how they do it, and how it is similar to our own skills.”

  The Fae didn’t even blink at that. Gesturing for them to consider themselves dismissed, Zakal kept her tusks covered while they turned and filed out. At least, until the group had filed back out into the sunshine of the valley, where the bright light would hide her grimace. “. . . I do not like how integrated they are with their natives.”