White Devil

by Janina Franck

  “White Devil.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “White Devil is what you have been dubbed. You are feared all across Pbecrah for your wings. May I see them?”

  Hesitantly, Lilith got up and summoned her wings. They appeared behind her, spread wide open. Lady Catarina jumped up excitedly, and rushed around Lilith in a wide circle, clapping her hands before her mouth.

  “Splendid! Simply gorgeous! How wonderful! May I?”

  Lilith nodded and the lady gingerly touched the membrane of her right wing. Her eyes were wide, like that of a child that was allowed to hold its younger sibling for the first time.

  “White,” she whispered. “Just like they said, white as the mountaintops!”

  Then she stood back, regaining her dignified appearance and smiled at Lilith, though still retaining a hint of wonderment in her eyes.

  “There are also rumors about you, young lady. You had best be careful to whom you show them,” Catarina mentioned.

  Confused, Lilith looked to her friends.

  “About me? I do not understand…”

  For once, she would have liked the dwarf to go on, but unfortunately this was the moment she decided to stop chattering and get to business. They sat back down with the rest of the group and Catarina looked at all of them before speaking.

  “I have nothing concrete,” she began. “There is nothing except legends that is known by the name of Hellfire Naginata. However, there are stories. There is supposed to be a secret labyrinth beneath Port Kalhes. The entrance has been found, but it has been kept secret by the government of Macrin, because anyone who entered never came out again. It is said the souls of those who got lost in that labyrinth could not be freed by the Enforcer and that their ghosts still haunt that place. Some people say they can still hear the cries for help and pain in the night. Back when I first heard about this urban myth, I was curious, so I investigated.”

  She took a sip from her cup and waited a few moments for effect. Amethyst did not have the patience to wait.

  “Well, what did you find out?” he asked agitatedly.

  Catarina gave him a reproachful look.

  “Storytelling is an art form, my dear. One must never rush it. To tell a story, and an important one at that, must be done with relish and with consideration. If I rushed it, I might as well have simply sent it to you by bat! What an utterly ridiculous notion,” she scolded him.

  Amethyst croaked misgivingly, but sullenly let her finish her dramatic pause.

  “The fact is,” she then continued, “that the rumors are only partly true. There has, in fact, been one person to come out again. He was barely an adult, still a child at heart, and he went in with his peers. When he stumbled out again, after three long days, he was half dead and entirely crazed. Imagine that! A minotaur, driven mad by a maze!”

  She looked at the group, clearly expecting a big reaction, but they all sat quietly, listening, waiting. After a moment, the woman cleared her throat.

  “In any case, when I went to Port Kalhes to find out more, I stumbled over the child’s testimony. You see, I have contacts everywhere, and when someone has been in charge of information and books for as long as I have, it is very simple to get to the pieces one needs. I studied the document in question for several months and all I can say is that it is all very strange and unclear. He appears to have seen blazing fire, and some sort of staff that turned his companions into ash right in front of his eyes. He said it roared like a manticore. Unlike his friends, he didn’t dare to touch the object and ran for his life. It seems to have chased him, though I think the poor child must surely have been delusional at this point and hallucinated that part, at the very least. All of this is purely confidential, of course, and I’m afraid I could not find out where exactly the entrance to that maze lies. Of course, this may well be unconnected, but it's the only thing I can think of that could match the Hellfire Naginata’s supposed power.”

  “This event,” Selene asked, “When did this happen?”

  “Some eighty odd years ago. I have other stories that may or may not be what you’re looking for, but this is the most recent account of any of them.”

  “Eighty years is a long time,” Selene grumbled.

  “Our last lead was much older,” Zero pointed out, adding a small smile when Selene shot him an annoyed glance.

  “We should go,” Lilith decided. “But I would like to ask for something else, Catarina.”

  “What is it my dear?”

  “Since you are the ruler of Taquin, could you confirm that you would know if it was in the tunnels and caves of the Morr-Velam Mountains?”

  Catarina’s smile faded and she met Lilith’s gaze seriously as she cupped the girl’s hands with her own.

  “I assure you, I would. This is not the kind of thing any clan or family could keep hidden from me. Not because I am ruler, but because I am the Guardian of the Great Library.”

  “Thank you. Then I suppose we should be going. Thank you so much for all your help Lady Catarina, I really appreciate it.”

  “Oh, pish-posh, don’t be silly Lilith. And please, just call me Catarina. Besides, you aren’t going anywhere tonight. I insist you spend the night! If you want, you can take a look at the library, and I’d be happy to show you the city, or you may go and explore on your own.”

  “We’ll take you up on that, dwarf lady,” Amethyst cawed as he landed on Lilith’s shoulder.

  Selene groaned quietly.

  “I guess the bird makes the decisions now.”

  *****

  While Taq was a pretty and busy town, mostly populated by dwarves and trolls, it did not distract Lilith from her wings, which kept itching to be called. She found herself staring into the sky often, wondering if the backwind could carry her to her destination quickly. Her companions took things a little more in stride. They looked around, evaluating the many craft shops, admiring the masonry, paintings and gemstone jewelry. There were plenty of bookshops as well, and a few technomancy craft stores.

  While they walked around, Lilith kept a lookout for a gift she could buy and send back to Maurice, as thanks for letting them stay with him in Nenbalon. She eventually came across a pretty notebook she figured he would appreciate, and after finding a postal office one street over, she sent it off to him only a few minutes after purchasing it.

  Catarina had come with them and like a brook she babbled about all the intricacies of the town, from gossip about the baker’s wife to ancient history and famous people from Taq. Wherever they went, she was able to greet people and, unsurprisingly, everyone recognized her. Despite her being the ruler of the country, the people took her presence very calmly, and she responded in kind.

  Selene brought it up when they finally sat down for a meal in an inn by the name of The Digger’s Crown. The owner, a human woman, had just taken their order and answered Catarina’s eager questions after her adopted son, a young satyr boy of nine years, and was heading back toward the kitchen now.

  “Aren’t you the queen? Shouldn’t everyone be treating you with more respect?” Selene observed cooly.

  Catarina laughed and waved her hand.

  “No, no, I may be the ruler, but it’s only for this year. If I am elected into the council at the end of my rule, now that would be a different story.”

  “You’re ruler only for a year?” Zero asked, sitting by Lilith’s side.

  “Why yes, indeed,” Catarina was quick to assure him. “I take it you’re not familiar with our political system?”

  They shook their heads and the dwarf clapped in delight.

  “Oh my, how unusual! Well, you see, dearies, every year, someone is chosen to be ruler and for one year, they get to suggest changes, look after things and hear people’s complaints. If you do well during your term, you may get elected into the council, and it’s them that make the important decisions for the country and the mountains. Once you’re in there, that’s it for life and trust me,
it is truly the highest honor one could have.”

  The others exchanged surprised looks.

  “But who decides who becomes ruler?” Selene asked.

  “Why, there are lots drawn, of course! Any dwarf or troll who hasn’t been ruler before can enter.”

  It was a curious scheme and Lilith was struggling to find the sense in it, but seeing as it seemed to have worked for Taquin for quite some time, she kept her doubts to herself. The city was clearly prospering, and she had heard good things about Taq craftsmanship even before she had arrived.

  “Say, do you think it is useful to have a new ruler on the throne every year?”

  Now it was Lady Catarina’s turn to be surprised.

  “Why, of course! This way everyone has a chance to get a go and see what it’s like sometime! And all the important decisions are made by those who are capable, it makes everything so much easier! There will never be quarrel for the throne because it is handed on to the next person after a year anyway. And since it switches between dwarves and trolls, who could claim it doesn’t work? I think it has been a simply marvelous enrichment for all of Taquin!”

  It was hard to argue with Catarina’s enthusiasm, and so they left it at that.

  Dinner passed with idle conversation and while it was pleasant, Lilith could not remember anything of it afterward. Distracted, she looked out the window periodically, judging the vanishing light and wondering if she was wasting time.

  The Anomaly in the balance of the world was approaching. Death’s child hummed with anticipation. It had been a long time since it had left this place and it yearned to get out, to do as it pleased.

  Not long now., she whispered, stroking her child gently.

  At the same time Death was still watching Tsoaluo. The mage sat back on her throne but was a miserable heap. She knew why. After all, the mage’s fear would have been reality if Death hadn’t meddled. But when Gods begin to meddle, sometimes Death had to meddle as well, even though she thoroughly disliked doing so. She much preferred to watch how things turned out by themselves; it was so much more interesting. The things these short-lived creatures could think of were more entertaining and unexpected than anything a God could ever achieve.

  And so, Death was watching now as the mage wondered about her life and her choices, as she contemplated joining him in death, without the knowledge that he was not there. Death could have chosen to appear before the mage and tell her that there was no reason to grieve, that he had received more time, but Death knew that it was important. The mage must not know. That would be further meddling and while she had meddled once, she only wanted to do it again as a last resort. The day would come when she would take the mage’s pain away. But today was not that day.

  Today, Death was mostly interested how the mage would react to the news that was on its way to her. There was the servant with the letter bearing the news already. The mage opened it, read it, and dropped it. Her sad, reddened eyes filled with comprehension and then anger.

  “No!” she cried to no one in particular but caused the poor servant boy to drop the silver platter he was holding. The noise of the dish hitting the marble ground echoed through the hall like thunder in a silent night.

  “I will not tolerate this,” the mage continued, completely oblivious to anything around her. Angrily, she stormed through the room.

  “They will not take this from me! It was his land, his place, and I’m not going to give it to them!”

  Death watched as the mage called together a council containing high ranking officers and ministers of all kind to discuss with them the matter of the Highlands’ future.

  “How long d’ye think we hae?”

  Colm looked thoughtfully into the sunset.

  “A couple of days. Maybe a week. But not more than that,” he replied.

  Balthasar sighed. It was disconcerting that they still hadn’t heard from their girls. It had been a week and there was no word. He would have suggested sending a letter to Taq to find out if they had been there at all, but he knew that it was a bad idea. He didn’t know what kind of situation they were in, perhaps they needed to be discreet and being the recipient of a frantic letter, which had been sent across an entire continent simply wasn’t that.

  “For someone who should be used to his little girl going on dangerous and deadly adventures daily, you’re quite the mother goose,” Colm noted. Balthasar shot him a grim glance. The man could see into his mind like into a fishbowl and while that could be useful at times, it was also annoying.

  “For someun whose lil gal’s neva been gone from home, ye’re quite th’turtlemother.”

  Balthasar realized that the analogy probably wasn’t the best, but how would Colm know? The man had likely never even come across a turtle.

  Just the day before, Balthasar had seen Ference get into a fight with Milly about analogies and idioms. A lot of idioms from Jianlah and Pbecrah had similarities but were clearly distinguishable with one simple fact: Jianlah used marine creatures in their similes, while Pbecrah’s, and therefore the Highland’s, very much did not. Those two had spent an entire afternoon arguing which one of them was correct. All because Ference couldn’t stand a little girl telling him he was wrong.

  “Don’t get me wrong,” Colm assured him. “I would love to know what’s happening, and I could contact the librarian, but for our plan to work, no one can know that there are still magic users here. They need to think I’m dead.”

  “Dat’s cruel t’yer girl, duncha think?”

  Colm looked down at his cup.

  “Yes. But I trust her.”

  That morning they had received word from one of the outer villages. At Colm’s request, they had set up posts on the mountaintops to see if there were any major movement at the Quintz border. According to their letter, they had seen the border posts gather an excessive quantity of provisions and arms. Everything seemed to indicate that Colm’s suspicion regarding Quintz’ interest in the Highlands was spot on. Yet despite that confirmation, Colm remained calm as ever. The first thing he had said after reading out the letter out loud had been “Would anyone like a cup of tea?”

  Balthasar supposed there was nothing useful to be gained from panicking or acting rash, but Colm always seemed to be the incarnation of calmness, and Balthasar didn’t know how he did it. There was never even a hint of worry, be it about his temporary death, the oncoming war, or the wellbeing of his charge. Colm always had a plan and he always had tea. It was admirable, really. But also frustrating. If Balthasar was completely honest with himself, he was even a little jealous of Colm for it.

  And then there was the magic, of course. Colm had told him that magical ability had decreased; fewer and fewer people were born with it every year. It had become quite rare. But as far as Balthasar knew, back in Jianlah, nobody had ever had that ability. They had scientists, not mages. And everyone could use or learn science. Colm had been very interested in learning about that. He probably already had several theories on the matter. Perhaps Jianlah was too close to the moons. Or the Tree of Life was interfering somehow. There could be many reasons. But chances were that even if Colm knew, Balthasar would never find out.

  “Shouldn’t we alert the villagers?” Balthasar ventured.

  “And cause a panic? Cause them many sleepless nights of fear before the time has come? No, that isn’t necessary. The attack won’t come suddenly. It doesn’t need to.”

  They left early the next day. Unfortunately, the steamrails to Macrin had not yet been completed, as the Macrian government had held firm against the new technology for a long time, so Catarina had advised them to fly. She had assured Lilith that it would in fact be beneficial if she showed her wings in the country of hybrids, so she didn’t have to let herself by carried by Zero or Ayalon. The emerald dragon carried multiple pouches with provisions Catarina had given them, and Selene had taken a place on Zero’s back.

  It took two day’s flight to reach Port Kalhes. They had
received a map of the region from Catarina and tried to fly in a straight line. The country had few cities or towns, as most of its inhabitants preferred to live by themselves, unless they were strong. The dwarf had warned them that Macrians generally weren’t very fond of humans, which could cause difficulty in populous places.

  They took frequent breaks during the days of travel and spent the night in the hills just south of Fintel and Zentopia. It was the evening of the second day before they finally arrived at Port Kalhes. Lilith missed the comforts of traveling by steamer already, even though she had enjoyed finally getting to use her wings.

  In consideration of what Catarina had said, Lilith kept her wings visible, despite the difficulty of maneuvering them on the ground. Macrin belonged to hybrids and as a result, anything that didn’t look too human or had any variation at all was better liked. Zero changed only to other animal shapes but made sure not to return to his human form. Even so it was a more difficult task to find an inn that would accept them, since most places would refuse Selene right away, her being clearly human. After searching the town for several hours, avoiding multiple aggressive encounters, they finally found a small, rundown place that accepted humans. It was kept by an elderly harpy with the help of his human servants. The rooms were small, and the beds uncomfortable, but the food was good, they had a roof over their heads, and it was cheap, although they did pay an extra fee for Selene.

  They sat in the common room until late that evening, discussing the plan for the next step in hushed voices.

  “We need to get a map of the immediate area and city. Zero, I’m putting you in charge of that,” Selene delegated. “Ayalon, I want you to listen around and talk to people. Actually, Zero,” she referred back to the shapeshifter, “if you have time and the opportunity, try to get into the local library and look at any files you can find that might help us. Anything about the geography or legends of the region. Lilith and raven,”