Sirash burst in through the door and the prince spun on his heels, looking to release his rage on the first thing he saw. Sirash's face of horror stopped him from furthering his advance. He followed her gaze to the room and looked at the sentries he had all but forgotten. All four of the devil guards were spread out against the floors, ceiling, and walls. Yusar came running to investigate the noise. Drask lowered his hands and abandoned the spell he had been silently casting. He took a few deep breaths and calmed himself.
“Get this cleaned up. When Arihem gets back, send him to me. I will be in the top study.”
Sirash turned away from the gore and tried to protest.
“Alone,” Drask stated. Yusar and Sirash watched as the prince walked away, his head hung low. Sirash watched the destroyed bodies of the demons as they turned to ash and floated out the open window. She looked at Yusar with disgust.
“Clean this up.”
The snake demon silently made her way down the hall in the opposite direction of Drask, leaving Yusar standing in the open doorway. The human almost walked away, but something among all the detritus caught his eye.
Arihem walked through the door of the study to be greeted by the impassive face of Drask.
“Why are you visible?”
Arihem grabbed a chair, slid it across from the prince, and took a seat. Drask’s eyebrow raised as he watched the archfiend settle into the chair.
“I wanted you to know it was me, so you didn’t disintegrate me. I found your scouts. They were found out by a hunting party of elves, with an unfortunate end. But I can say for a certainty that the elves won’t be a bother anymore.” The large demon smiled as he took up a lit pipe from a side table. The demon gently placed the pipe between his teeth and closed his rough lips around the bit. He took a deep breath in and closed his eyes as the smoke burned his throat and lungs.
“You miss the abyss?” Drask asked.
The large demon slowly exhaled. “To be honest, yes. But I respect what you are doing here. And the possibilities you bring.”
Drask gave a weak smile and looked down at the scroll he had used to transmutate the human’s hand onto himself. Arihem continued.
“But you need to let us help you. Let Sirash handle more of the tower's needs. Lar is back with a legion of gnolls, let him take the lead on the army. We have generals enough to take control of the building duties. They have your design plans and they know failure is not an option.”
“And what would you have me do, since you apparently know more than I?”
Arihem observed the rage in Drask’s eyes and frowned as he carefully placed the pipe back on the side table. The arch demon slowly slid the chair out from underneath him and kneeled before Drask.
“I apologize, my Prince. I was only giving my opinion as your general and guard.” Arihem was looking at the floor as he continued. “Forgive my casual attitude, I was only blood drunk from the slaughter of the elves. I believe it would be in your best interest to concentrate on the more important matter.”
Drask looked at the back of Arihem’s head as he calmly processed the demon's words.
“What matter?”
Arihem looked at Drask’s hand and then up at the demon prince.
“I can only assume your outburst had something to do with that.”
Drask frowned and relaxed his posture, slumping on to the bed. “Get up. Yes, it did have to do with this blasted hand. The human was not alone when the Cerberus found him. It was destroyed and sent back to my father, who is no doubt delighted in my failure.”
“The imp?” Drask remembered the ring, absent from his finger. “Either dead or running scared. My connection is severed either way. When I was in the abyss, I had a network of agents that reached across the nine layers of the abyss. Here, I feel blind. And now that I have learned a little about who is running around with my hand, I feel like my efforts were in vain. I only know the general direction the human is in.” Arihem stood up, face set in determination. “I will do whatever you wish, my Prince. May I suggest you focus all your efforts with Yusar on getting your feeling back. I don’t like humans in general, but I have spent countless hours spying on him and he seems sincere in his attempts to help you.”
Drask looked at Arihem for one last time before the large arch demon enacted his invisibility spell and disappeared once again. “Yes, I would have locked him away if I thought he wasn’t.” Drask lay back on his bed and closed his eyes. “Give me a day in solitude. I need to think about a lot of things. In the meantime, apprise Lar of his new duties, tell Sirash to handle the tower, and get my work force back on schedule.”
Drask listened as the sharp talons on Arihem’s feet clacked on the stone and out of the room. As the door opened, Arihem asked, “And the human?”
“Tell him he has one day to come up with a solution.”
Jerib was still on a walk, trying to get the animals to come back to his sanctuary. Daria was cooking supper, and Asher and Rylan helped Val dress his wounds.
“I sure am glad you had that potion. This bite would have gotten infected and worse for sure. But why did you give it to me? Why not Rylan after he was bitten?” Asher smiled as he helped wrap Val’s thigh with a clean dressing. Rylan chimed in.
“Because he wasn’t sure of the effects a healing potion would have on a half spider, half man. Last time I tried a little experiment like that, I couldn’t see for half a day.”
Val smiled. “I’m glad you’re doing better.”
“Oh, yeah, me too. Being blind was absolutely terrible.”
“No, I mean from the spider bite. I’m glad you’re back to your jolly self again.”
Daria chimed in from the kitchen, “Yes, me as well, Rylan. Your smile was missed truly.” Rylan's face turned slightly red. Asher gave out a chuckle that got Rylan’s attention. He shot his brother a look that promised pain.
“Supper is ready, but I think we should wait for Jerib to return,” Daria said.
Asher cocked his head to the side and listened. “He is back.”
Daria fixed him a plate and they sat down at the table when Jerib came in looking flustered, but still smiling.
“Oh, that’s wonderful. I’m starving. But please clear the table.”
Rylan had a spoonful of food pursed to his open lips and held it there, motionless. “Really?”
Val looked down at the Jerib’s traveling bag as the fabric shifted and moved on its own. “Jerib, what’s in the bag?”
Daria rushed to clear the plates as Jerib placed the bag on the table and carefully reached in. The four watched his hand pull out a squirming, bound, and gagged imp.
“I’m not sure. Let’s ask it.”
“One of my friends, a delightful little sparrow, never left when that dog came into the area, because she has a full nest. She came and found me as I was walking, and told me about another creature in the woods that appeared shortly after we killed the beast. She also gave me this, thinking I had lost it.” He held up a shiny gold ring with a single opal stone set in the top.
Rylan looked at the ring and then back into the eyes of the imp as it stared straight through him.
“A ring. That’s great. Jerib! You have a demon on your dinner table, man! Focus!”
Daria placed her hand on Rylan’s shoulder. “Please, Jerib, go on.” “Right, sorry. Well, I asked a few other creatures, and it didn’t take them very long to pinpoint this thing. A quick word to a few hawks I know and they had him pinned on the ground in no time. It fought hard and harmed one of them pretty bad. I would have been back sooner, but I had to help heal his leg before I returned. The reason I tell you about the ring is, it’s not mine.” He placed the ring on the table beside the imp. The creature eyed it hard.
Jerib let his bindings loose, and on cue, the imp leaped for the ring. Jerib grabbed the imp quickly and held its arm behind its back firmly. Rylan assisted Jerib, removing the gag in the imp’s mouth.
Asher grabbed his hand and shook his head. “No wor
ds. I’m sure the thing knows how to write.”
The imp narrowed its eyes and looked hard at Asher.
“Demon, you don’t need your eyes to write. Give me a look like that again and I will remove them.”
As the imp turned away with a look of defeat on its face, Asher winked at Daria, making her smirk. Jerib found some parchment and a thin piece of charcoal as Jerib tied the imp to a chair and held his arm securely. Jerib slid the charcoal into the imp’s hand and the paper across the table.
“Who are you?” Rylan asked.
“No, he won’t answer that,” Jerib said. “Knowing a demon’s true name gives a mighty power over it; he will only lie to that question.”
Rylan held a knife's edge to the imp’s neck. “Fine, you know a lot more about this than us. You ask it something.”
Jerib slid a chair around and sat down facing the imp. He looked hard at the creature.
“We are not going to kill you,” Jerib reassured. Rylan let out a sharp puff of air and took the dagger away from the imp’s neck. He scowled at Jerib, but the wizard ignored him. “Being sent back to the abyss? No, I think not. I could hold you here and torture you in ways the abyss hasn’t even imagined yet. I know about your kind and the rules of your existence. I can make your time here very unpleasant, and I can make it last.”
Jerib pulled up his sleeve to reveal a long, bluish tattoo across his forearm. The symbol was nothing like anyone else in the room had ever seen. The imp pushed back into his chair as he stared at the marking. Jerib ran his other hand over the tattoo as he whispered. He took the same hand and reached out quickly, grabbing the imp’s hand. The charcoal snapped and fell to the table as the imp’s arm convulsed. Jerib looked deep into the creature’s eyes. The imp looked back and forth from Jerib to his hand and around the room at the others as they watched on. Jerib whispered a final word and the imp squealed, pulling his arm free. Jerib covered his tattoo and reclined into his chair. The imp held his arm close to his body, and tried to stop shaking.
“Pick up the coal.” The imp didn’t hesitate very long. It clutched the charcoal in its hand and waited for further direction.
“Do you work for a man or a demon?”
Dejected, the imp scratched the word “demon” across the paper.
“It sent the three-headed dog here?”
“Yes.”
Jerib didn’t even look at the paper. “And he wants my friend for some reason.”
The imp shot a look to Val, one eyebrow pushed up, and shook its head in affirmation this time.
“Why?”
The little creature shrugged his shoulders. Jerib jumped forward in his chair. The imp violently scribbled on the paper to hold him at bay. Rylan reached down and removed the paper from the table. as the imp had used up the broken charcoal.
“It says 'hand,' over and over.”
The imp motioned with its head and eyes to Val’s red hand. Jerib leaned in close as he placed another piece of coal into the trembling hand of the imp.
“Why?”
The imp’s eyes went wide with fear as it dropped the charcoal and placed its hand up before its face. The creature shook its head over and over. Jerib eyed him with hate, but finally pushed back into his chair to put the imp at ease. He stroked his beard as he looked on in deep thought. His eyes wandered to the ring. Jerib reached out and grabbed the ring, careful not to let his fingertips break the opening of the metal.
“What does this do?”
The imp hesitated, and this time Rylan brought his knife blade up once again, pushing slightly into the neck of the imp. The imp pulled away and wrote on the parchment. “Direct connection to Master,” Rylan read aloud. The group looked around the room at each other. In that moment, the imp took advantage and jerked its head, slamming its neck down on the blade Rylan held out. The man released the blade as the imp slumped in its chair and bled out across the floor.
Daria gave out a screech and shuffled away from the table. Asher cursed as he cut the bindings and grabbed the demon by its shoulders. He brought the limp body out in the moon-lit grass in front of Jerib’s cabin. He cursed once again as he pulled the knife out of the demon’s neck and placed a firm hand on the wound, trying to stanch the bleeding. The imp gargled and choked as the blood seeped out from the edges of Asher's fingers.
Jerib placed his hand on the demon’s neck. He smiled at the demon and began removing the gag from the creature's mouth.
“I can easily heal this. I can keep you here and continue this. Or you can just answer my last question, and I will release you.”
The imp placed his hand on Jerib’s arm as he looked once again at the exposed tattoo.
“Ask,” the demon said in a gargled and raspy voice.
“Your master’s name.”
The demon narrowed its eyes and Jerib quickly brought his knee up to pin the demon’s free arm. He touched the marking on his arm.
“Drask, Prince of Malad Omini, the seventh layer.”
Jerib pulled his hand back from the demon like it was a venomous snake poised to strike.
“Goodbye, priest,” the imp whispered through the blood and used its sharp claws to dig at his neck and open the wound completely. Black blood spewed out and Jerib jumped off the imp. The creature crumbled away into ashes across the dew-covered grass.
“Why did he call you 'priest'?” Asher asked.
Jerib faked a laugh and rolled up his sleeve with a shaking hand. He licked his finger and began rubbing the markings off his arm.
“This is the symbol of a priest of Dralic. I drew it on after I placed him in the bag. Figured it would come in handy. When I touched him, I just used a simple cooling palm spell. He believed I was using my priestly powers.”
“Could you really have healed it?”
“I don’t know the first thing about healing demons. I was just bluffing him.”
Asher smiled as he kicked though the ash, scattering it into the night air.
“Nice play.”
“Well, what now?” Rylan asked.
“We eat. I'm starved,” Jerib said.
Everyone entered the cottage, leaving Val to watch the ashes float up in the moonlight. He caught one with his red hand and smeared the soot between his fingers. The dark gray color looked at home against the pale red skin.
“I think this is a bad idea, for the record,” Asher stated.
“But, in the end, it is Val’s decision,” Jerib said.
The group sat around the table after having a nice, warm meal and long discussion. Daria placed her hand on Val’s. Val took a deep breath and nodded at his friends as he slowly slid the ring onto his finger. A rush of confusion and curiosity hit Val.
“Who?” a hollow voice across his mind asked.
As his mind immediately answered, so did the other voice.
“Yusar the Red.”
Images flashed across Val's mind, each of the same man: an aged wizard in flowing red robes He was throwing lightning out of his hand or stabbing someone with a dagger. Images of red cloth, wet hands, an eyeball closing. The scenes came rushing into Val’s mind in rapid succession. He forced his eyes open, but winced as a dagger plunged into a woman’s thigh in his head. He realized his mind was transferring knowledge as he was receiving at the same time.
“What should I ask?” the hollow voice asked again.
“Are you the demon?”
The hollow voice quickly shot back images. Val soaked the new images coming in and ignored the flashes he was sending out. The other person was human, and was either working for the demon, or he was trapped. As if in answer, the voice shouted out “prisoner” and the image of a pale red demon flashing a evil and cunning smile. Val immediately thought of his hand with the matching skin. The connection between the two men grew stronger; the images flowed naturally and the exchanges became more discrete. He heard Jerib ask if he was okay, so he waved, trying to focus on the man’s mind.
“You're helping him?”
Yusar’
s mind raced and Val saw the image of the demon army, the construction, and Yusar working with the demon to get feeling in the human hand. Val thought about the feeling in his own.
“How did you do that?” Yusar asked.
“Acceptance.”
Excitement came across the ring and Yusar quickly blurted out “Help me!” before the connection ended. Val sunk down in his chair and pulled the ring off. He released the tension in his muscles and tried to focus on what he had just learned.
“There was a lot to take in. It was confusing…”
Jerib placed a piece of parchment in front of him.
“Write as much as you can remember, quickly.”
Val grabbed the piece of charcoal and began describing what he saw and heard. After a few more pieces of coal, he finished and looked at the page.
“I think I just gave that demon what it wanted.” He set the paper down. “But I don’t know why he wanted it.”
Yusar walked up the stairs toward Drask’s new room as he rolled his fingers around the ring in his pocket. He debated telling Drask about it and returning the piece of jewelry. He would only be asking for trouble to hide something from the all-knowing demon prince. But he was already using his every spare moment to better his position in the tower. He would get in good with the demon prince after he fixed his ability to use the human hand. And the ring is an out, even if to a potential enemy. It was someone who wasn’t trapped in the tower. He might be able to use that, and eventually escape Drask. He stopped halfway up the stairs and took a deep breath, reflecting on his situation.
“Just put on a good show. Stay patient. Your time will come; it has to,” he whispered to himself. He raised his head and walked up the stairs with a determined step. Yusar knocked on the door and immediately Drask answered, “Come.”
There were maps and papers everywhere except on a trail on the stone he had been pacing across. The prince finished what he was scribbling in a book and placed his pen down.
Fate's Hand Page 16