The Devil's Influence

by Chris Pisano

  “That’s absurd! Nothing is stronger than my love for you. I watch these men, because of my love for you.”

  “Is that right? You were watching them for my sake? For me? Interesting, because while you were watching out for me, a viper almost killed me in my sleep.”

  “What? No—”

  “Yes! I would ask if you know what saved me, but I already know the answer to that. It was Praeker’s scorpions.”

  “Impossible. I was watching him the whole time.”

  “Right. You watched him and not me. And you still didn’t see everything. Your rage is blinding you to the point of not being able to see what is right in front of you.”

  “Nonsense. I know where everything—”

  “Do you? How about the crystal with our children’s images in that Silver gave you? Do you know where that is?”

  “Of course, I do. It’s in my—” she cut herself short as her hands went to her pockets and came up empty.

  Diminutia held out the crystal, the image of their smiling children glowed. He had never performed a sleight of hand like this with her before, and he felt awful for it, but he needed to make his point. He swore to himself that he would never use such duplicitousness with her ever again.

  Her hands shook as she reached for it, tears streaming down her face. “Our children . . .”

  “Need us. Need you. I need you.”

  Her fingers glided over the crystal, but she did not take it. Instead, she wrapped her other hand around Diminutia’s. As they both held the crystal, she looked at her husband and said, “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I just wanted to protect you. Protect them.”

  “I know. You have done an amazing job. You don’t need to sacrifice yourself to protect us.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “I understand.” Diminutia shifted his body so that he sat next to his wife, arm to arm, leg to leg. “These two men brought you a lot of great misery. But that misery brought you the two most amazing miracles.”

  Dearborn looked at her children and then back to Diminutia. “Three.”

  He smiled and kissed her forehead. She leaned her head against his shoulder as they watched the first rays of the Morning Sun peek over the horizon.

  twenty-five

  “Hunh,” General Zellas grunted, unable to hide the mirth in his voice. “Never seen an illusion create great sprays of blood before.”

  Millinni finished her whispers and relaxed her body. Her fingers were squirming like snakes mere seconds ago, but now the agitation passed. Her dry tongue scraped over cracked lips as sweat percolated among the thin strands of white along her hairline. “Then you’ve either seen amazing illusions or terrible ones. If I didn’t include the great sprays of blood, then Qual would have seen through it. More importantly, I was right that he knew we were following him.”

  “Yes, you were,” Zellas replied. Reaching into his pocket he walked over to Hemmer. The smooth-faced wizard smiled and held out both hands, looking more like a numbers-loving bursar. Landyr wondered if he were even a wizard, after all, he had yet to see him perform a parlor trick let alone magic on the scale of either Millinni or Chenessa. He chuckled to himself about how much his views had changed in such a short while—he began with doubts about magic but was now disappointed when a wizard had yet to perform any.

  Zellas placed a few coins in Hemmer’s hand; the wizard gave a deep bow of respect in return. Millinni scowled at the younger wizard causing him to pocket his coins and shuffle away from her withering gaze. She turned her angry eyes to Zellas. The general shrugged and said, “What? I don’t understand why you’re mad at him. He agreed with you, and decided to make a few extra coins in the process.”

  Landyr laughed. He knew Zellas well enough to know that he did not actually disagree with Millinni. He saw an opportunity to bond with Hemmer, a recluse whose voice Landyr had yet to hear. Zellas always liked being in control, being the only one in charge of a mission. If someone else was in charge, then Zellas would undermine their leadership, but not in an overt way. Subtly. By drawing everyone else to him, into his sphere of influence. Usually with charm and manipulation.

  Landyr looked over to Chenessa. There was an attraction between the two of them, and Zellas knew this. Did the general manipulate Landyr into fucking her last night with the hopes of winning her over to the Elite Troop’s way of thinking? That would be quite an impressive level of manipulation, Landyr thought. Did Zellas possess that skill?

  Zellas turned to a few members of the Elite Troop and said, “You three, recon to the right, you three recon to the left. The two of you, examine the rubble to see if there’s a way through.”

  “No!” Millinni snapped. “We must consult with the Guild first before we do anything else.”

  “Now, Millinni,” Zellas started, his words made of sugar. “There’s no need for that. They’re the ones who sent us on this mission, so it makes little sense to veer from this path.”

  “That was before we knew who Qual was.”

  “You knew who he was as soon as you heard his name.”

  “His name is one of myth, legend. Any instances involving Qual happened so infrequently that they became rumor.”

  “You did know he was powerful, though.”

  “Not this powerful. Wizardry involves memorized incantations, measured ingredients, well-practiced gestures. He brought down half a cavern’s worth of stalactites with precision by simply waving his hand. No one has that kind of power.”

  Arms crossed, Zellas walked closer to Millinni and then leaned against the tunnel wall. His smile was relaxed and easy, disarming. “I think at least one person here has that kind of ability. She is very wise to hide it.”

  Millinni straightened as best her body would allow, bristling from the general’s accusation. “No one has that kind of power, I assure you. That is why we need to contact the Guild, to see how we should proceed.”

  Zellas gestured with his chin toward the pile of broken stones. “The way to proceed is that way.”

  Squinting Millinni hissed, “Why are you in such a rush to face your death?”

  “No rush. I just want to find out why Qual wants The Eternity Seed.”

  Millinni tensed again. She met his gaze. He offered a nonchalant shrug. The crone-wizard whipped around to glare at Chenessa after she realized how the general knew these details. Chenessa looked young as she explained, almost pleading, “Landyr was with me the last time Silver contacted me. I had to explain to him what Silver was tasking us to do.”

  “Well, I think it was the right thing to do,” Zellas said. “Open communication is important.”

  Landyr smiled to himself. Seeing the general like this, he knew he still had a lot to learn, especially tact. There was no doubt in his mind that the other two wizards agreed with Zellas.

  Millinni glared at Zellas once more. Landyr wondered what kinds of spells she was secretly working up in her mind to use on the general. Her jaw clenched tight, Millinni spoke slowly with only her lips, “Yes. Communication and compromise are keys that are needed to unlock the doors to success. I will contact Silver. You can send your men to discover if there are any passages through or around this.”

  Zellas clapped his hands, his bright smile belonged on a showman, not a soldier. “Perfect!” He then turned to his soldiers and started pointing all around the cavern. “You three, to the right; you three to the left. You and you climb about the rubble. Landyr, you stay here. I found something over here I’d like my friend, Hemmer, to see. I wager it might be something interesting.”

  All at once, everyone moved about, following their orders, while Zellas put his arm around Hemmer’s shoulders and led him back the way they had come.

  Millinni produced a handheld mirror from her cloaks. Landyr knew it was no simple mirror and assumed that was how she would contact Silver as
she placed it on a nearby ledge of stone protruding from the wall. After adjusting it to her liking, she turned to Chenessa and asked, “Do you think it wise that you be here?”

  “No,” Chenessa mumbled as she turned and walked away, toward a large crevice in the wall. Landyr debated staying and listening to the conversation between the two wizards. Millinni would fuss and posture, maybe even threaten him to leave her to her privacy, but ultimately, he knew she would still contact Silver no matter who was around. However, he needed to know the reason for her reaction. Zellas would prefer him to stay with Millinni, but he went after Chenessa instead.

  A blue light glowed from the crevice. No, multiple blue lights, none larger than a fingernail, all floating in lazy circles around Chenessa. She stood with her arms crossed over her chest, leaning against the stonewall, and looking away from Landyr, deeper into the crevasse. It was a large, deep cut into the wall, and did not seem to have and an end.

  “I assume Millinni shooed you away because she doesn’t trust me,” Landyr said, not knowing where else to start.

  Chenessa gave a weak chuckle. “On the contrary, it is I who she does not trust.”

  “Because of the wizard named Silver?”

  “Yes. She believes he clouds my judgment.”

  “Why is that?”

  Her head lolled to the side, and she gave Landyr a weary expression, clearly tired of having to explain what should be obvious. “Because he and I used to be lovers.”

  Landyr clenched his teeth, frustrated with himself for not having concluded this on his own, her reaction to Silver in the tavern the only clue he needed to solve the mystery.

  “Does he? Cloud your judgment?”

  Chenessa pulled herself from the wall and looked into the blackness of the crevasse. She started to walk, but at a pace slow enough to let Landyr know he should follow. He did. “I don’t know,” she finally answered after he caught up with her, walking by her side. “I want to say that he doesn’t, but in light of recent events, I’m not so sure.”

  The blue from the orbiting lights gave her skin an ethereal glow, the constantly moving shadows played about her face, flickering between beautiful woman and horrid monster. The light painted her hair a deep purple, the color of a star-filled sky breaking from midnight to dawn. Landyr could not tell what was real and what was the result of his overactive imagination. Did it matter? Whether he saw the woman or the monster, one was hiding the other, making her a monster no matter how much of a woman she was. “You’re referring to last night?”

  Chenessa chuckled again, this time pitying. “Not everything revolves around you and your cock.”

  “Not what I meant.”

  “No?”

  “No.”

  Without breaking stride, she tilted her head just enough to look at him from the corner of her eye, her mouth playing at a small smirk. She wanted a different answer. He sighed. “Maybe.”

  “Maybe?”

  “Maybe,” he said firmly, his final answer.

  “Maybe might be the right answer,” she admitted.

  “So, you did use me for my cock. Maybe.”

  “Maybe. But you definitely are having issues with me being a wizard.”

  “No. Not with you being a wizard. With . . . what you are, or might be. With what I saw.”

  “The illusion in the alleyway?”

  Her words surprised him, forcing his mind to take him back to the alleyway. The buzzing and chittering from the swarming insects were real. The darkness had moved and swirled with the motion of a living thing. He had felt it move around him, over him, on him. That was real. The saliva dripping from the rows of jagged teeth in the rictus grin, in the face of twisted and calloused flesh was real. All too real.

  They walked in silence as he tried to think of the proper words. He appreciated that she let him do so, and felt incompetent when all he could muster was, “That was no illusion.”

  “Then you know what I am.”

  Landyr ran his hand through his hair and shook his head. “I don’t know anything. You haven’t told me anything. You leave trails of breadcrumbs that lead me in circles. One moment, I see a beautiful woman, the next a demon. I don’t know if it’s you, or my mind is playing tricks. Which is it? What are you?”

  “Can’t I be both?”

  Landyr stopped walking. After a silent pause, he started to walk back the way they came. “This is nonsense. I’m letting the matters of my heart sway me from my duties as a soldier, and potentially jeopardizing this mission.”

  Chenessa reached out and grabbed Landyr’s hand, stopping him. “Wait. My question was my answer. I am both. You won’t be satisfied until you know the truth, so . . . I’m willing to tell it.”

  Working his jaw muscles, Landyr stopped and looked into Chenessa’s eyes as she spoke. In the blue light, against her dark skin, he could see the wet pathways of tears. “I am a demon. I was tethered to the Shadow Stone, sworn to protect it and to terrorize anyone who possessed it.”

  “The Shadow Stone? One of the five accursed stones Wyren used to start the Demon War?”

  “Yes. When they were combined it gave the user dominion over us. All demons, even the ones still in Hell. We wished to be no one’s slaves. My brothers and sisters born from the darkness swore never to allow that happen, so we bound ourselves to the Shadow Stone. We failed. But when Wyren was defeated, we were freed.”

  Landyr listened to her words, felt the weight of them press against his chest. To keep all her kind from being enslaved, she became a prisoner, tethered for centuries to the Shadow Stone. This creature had only known freedom for a decade. He wished to offer pity, but he was uncertain if she would want it. Now he knew why she had taken so long to open up to him. Her life had been unfathomably difficult, and now extremely new. No matter how difficult and confounding she had been to him, he understood the underlying reason. She was confused. “Does Silver know?”

  Shivering, she crossed her arms under her chest, as if trying to keep warm. “No.”

  They had a relationship. It might have been no longer than a similar tryst he shared with her last night, or it could have been measured in years. Either way, Landyr found it curious that she had not shared that information with a fellow wizard. “Why not?”

  She lowered her head. The glowing orbs languidly floated around her, shading her blood red curls to a deep burgundy as her hair flowed over her face and chest. She looked up, but not at Landyr, instead, she started walking deeper into the crevasse. “Because of what I did to him.”

  Landyr walked next to her in silence. He knew he did not have to ask; she would tell him. After a deep breath, she continued, “The Shadow Stone was in possession by a group of wizards for over a century. My fellow shadow demons and I killed a few of them, but the wizards cast spells and made sigils and ensorcelled charms to hide from us, to protect themselves. It became a game for us. We knew the wizards wanted to protect the stone, to keep it from the likes of Wyren. We knew they had no intention of enslaving us, so we toyed with them, let them gain confidence and then we’d find them, chase them, maybe kill one if we were bored. Then Silver and his friends came along.”

  The crack in the wall took a sharp turn. It was still large enough for them to walk side by side as they continued to follow it. Far ahead, Landyr saw a sliver of light. This was not a crevice, but a tunnel. He was not sure if Chenessa saw it or not, but he remained quiet as she continued with her story. “Silver was a thief at the time and had two partners—a human and an elf. They stole the Shadow Stone from the wizards. We demons attempted to thwart them. We failed, but not before killing one of Silver’s partners. Not before I killed Silver’s partner.”

  Guilt? Did Landyr detect guilt in her voice? Guilt from a demon? He felt sympathetic. “I understand why you haven’t told him.”

  “The Demon War started
shortly after and lasted mere hours. We had been freed, no longer needing to protect the Shadow Stone or any of the stones. Many of my brethren returned to Hell, longing for a home they hadn’t seen in millennia. Some of us wanted to stay in this world, explore what freedom truly meant. I wanted to stay because I had a part of it in me. Silver’s friend. For lack of a better term, I absorbed him. He was dead, but I felt what he felt, felt the strong bond he had with his friends. His name was Nevin. We shadow demons barely even had names, yet ‘Silver’ and ‘Diminutia’ were in the forefront of Nevin’s thoughts. He was concerned about his friends’ safety, even while I was killing him. With my newfound freedom, I wanted that feeling, I wanted someone to feel that for me. I wanted to know more about Nevin’s friends. Diminutia had found love, so studying him would have been near impossible. Silver, on the other hand, began his quest to become a wizard. Since Nevin was an elf, I remained an elf, but I knew the type of woman Silver liked, so I became that. I then became a wizard to get closer to him. Ten years later, here I am.”

  She stopped walking and turned to Landyr, expecting him to say something. He knew he should, but not exactly what. How did he comfort a demon? He did feel sorry for her but did not feel right apologizing, for he did nothing wrong. A thought flashed through his mind, but he knew very well that would be the worst thing to say. After a few moments, he decided his words could be no more uncomfortable than the prolonged silence growing between them. “I guess it’s Silver I should thank for the tits I’ve so enjoyed looking at?”

  Chenessa’s mouth fell open and her eyes widened. The glowing orbs fell, winking out of existence before they hit the floor. They had walked close enough to the other end of the tunnel where he could see enough of her in the light. At first, Landyr thought she was transforming again to devour him. When nothing happened, no attempts at consuming him, he realized it was simple astonishment. Then she laughed. Demon or not, her laughter turned his heart to butter on a summer day.