Curse of the Daemon Beast

by Francis James Blair

  Lastly she stripped off her chemise and added it to the pile. Shivering as the chill breeze played across her bare skin, she dipped a toe into the pond. The water was even colder. Well, no good way to get past it.

  Temperance waded in until the water reached her waist. Working the soap into a lather, she rubbed it over her arms, a mixture of mud and blood sluicing into the water below. She winced when she got to her shoulder. The wound had never seen a proper treatment, with all the morning’s excitement. Fortunately she had plenty of supplies in her pack. She pulled off the bandage and worked the soap around the wound as best she could.

  Another strong breeze played over the water, leaving ripples in its wake. Temperance shivered and set to scrubbing twice as quick. She realized her question remained unanswered. “Ruth?”

  She turned. The other girl wasn’t looking at Temperance, but rather was intent on studying her grandfather’s jacket. She reached out, tracing a finger across the designs branded into the surface, their patterns so light it was almost impossible to see them unless you were close.

  “I wouldn’t touch those, if I were you.” Ruth jumped at the sound of Temperance’s voice and spun to face the water. She stammered something, probably an apology, but snapped her mouth shut before she began. Temperance watched as the girl’s face turned red as a beet.

  What is that about? Temperance glanced down and herself. Oh.

  You would think a country girl would be used to a little state of undress. During the hottest summer months nobody in Cold Valley had been shy about jumping in the local river, not even her parents. Then in Martin’s little village the locals had often flocked to the water in hundreds, most wearing nothing more than what the gods gave them.

  Still, she couldn’t blame the girl for being a bit of a prude, what with a father like Jonas. Temperance sighed, but she turned around to spare the girl any further embarrassment before repeating her earlier question.

  “Oh! It’s just we both knew life would be better for us in the cities. David wanted to go to a real school, prove he’s smarter and better than everyone else. He promised to take me with him, to someplace where everybody don’t know me already. I thought maybe I could find someone meant more for me there.”

  Temperance frowned, although the other girl couldn’t see her. Another problem with arranged marriages. “David wasn’t your type, I take it.”

  “No, not so much.”

  “So what sort of boys are your type then? The mayor’s son Johnnie, perhaps?”

  Ruth was quiet for so long Temperance wondered if she should repeat the question. Before she had a chance, the girl spoke, her voice so soft it was almost lost over the sound of Temperance’s scrubbing. “Not him, neither.”

  Seemed like if the boys had fought over Ruth, the girl hadn’t done much to push them to it. Time to try a different approach.

  “Do you know if any—”

  “I should get back, Miss. My Papa is gonna be real mad if I ain’t in the fields when he finishes working.”

  “Alright, just a moment here, I’m almost done.”

  “I’ll find my own way, if it’s all the same, Miss. See you at dinner tonight.”

  By the time Temperance turned, the girl had disappeared. Astor met her gaze and gave a low chuckle. You really have a way with people, don’t you? Didn’t take you for being such a tease.

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  Oh, nothing. If you haven’t figured it out on your own yet, I’m sure as Hell not going to help you.

  Temperance stepped from the water and fetched a cloth out of her pack. “I thought you didn’t believe in Hell.”

  I don’t, but some people in this town sure do. Just be careful what you say here, you’re walking a thin line as it is.

  “What, you think the girl was lying about her and David?”

  Oh, she was lying, just not over any of the questions you were asking her.

  Temperance didn’t know how to respond to that, so instead she pulled out fresh clothes and bandages. Then she took the time to wash and hang her old clothes, repairing her jacket while they dried. Sundown was still hours away, so it was better to get these things done while she had a chance. No telling what the next few days would bring.

  Astor returned from scouting around the time her skirt felt dry. You’re right, there’s a daemon here somewhere. Belial’s scent is near the town as well, but everything is so mixed together I can’t make heads or tails of it. I’ll head out further tonight and see if I can’t pick up the trail near where it got the drop on you.

  “As good a plan as any. In the meantime, best we head back to Shady Hollow. It’ll be suppertime soon, and something tells me I don’t want to be late.”

  Chapter Twelve

  “You got any coffee around here?”

  The rough wooden table took up almost the entire space in the small kitchen. At one end Temperance and Jonas sat eyeing each other, while at the other Ruth helped her mother Agnes add ingredients to a pot bubbling atop a cast-iron stove.

  Ruth glanced over at Temperance’s question, a slight smile playing across her lips. Apparently any awkwardness from the pond earlier had been forgotten.

  Jonas scowled. “We don’t keep none of that daemon brew here, we’re godsfearing folk in this house.”

  Not likely they have anything stronger then, either, Temperance thought with no small amount of regret. Still, she forced a smile onto her face as she shrugged. “Sometimes you need one daemon to help fight another.”

  “Here dearie, have some milk. Fresh from this morning.” Missus Mason set a clay cup on the table. The eggshell blue liquid inside had that mild aroma of orak, but otherwise still smelled good. Temperance nodded to her host and took a swig.

  Bowls and spoons materialized on the table, the two ladies setting service so quick it almost seemed a magick in its own right. The white stew smelled strongly of pepper and thyme, and Temperance almost set into it until a sharp look from Jonas forced her back to sitting proper.

  Biscuits followed, still steaming from the fire, and at last the two ladies joined them at the table.

  “Let’s say our grace.” Jonas and his wife bowed their heads, and a half-heartbeat later Ruth joined them. Temperance sat still, expecting Jonas to look up and scowl again at any moment, but he seemed absorbed in the mumbled chant emitting between his lips. She relaxed, leaned back in her chair, and waited for the family to finish. Hungry as she was, no sense being rude.

  Besides, she had prayed enough for a lifetime in recent days. Still needed to make good on that too, she reckoned.

  The chanting prayer seemed to go on forever. A few minutes in, Ruth raised her head, gave another smile, then winked. Temperance smiled back. The other girl dropped her head, her own grin so wide now that Temperance could still see the edges of it.

  Jonas finished his prayer, and with a final murmur from the entire family, opened his eyes. He saw Temperance leaning back and scowled, but didn’t comment.

  The meal was a simple affair, but delicious. Of course, given how little she had eaten in the last few days, Temperance was surprised that she didn’t swallow the silverware along with her soup. Agnes seemed pleased enough by her hearty appetite, at least.

  Finishing his bowl, Jonas leaned back and scanned the table with a critical eye. His gaze settled on his daughter. “I spoke with Edmund today.”

  From across the table, Temperance could feel the girl go stiff. “Oh?”

  “He and I agreed that if David doesn’t return in due time, Patrick can take his place at the altar.”

  “What?” Ruth started to rise, but stopped as her mother placed a hand on her arm. “David’s been missing but four days, ain’t this a little early? ‘Sides, Patrick is only fifteen!”

  “And you’re sixteen. Stop acting like this is some big surprise, you’d have been hitched already if I’d had my way.” Jonas glared at his daughter, then turned his gaze towards Temperance, as if daring her to interject. Temperance tried
to look fascinated with her bowl of soup.

  “But Papa, I don’t like Patrick!” Ruth looked on the verge of tears.

  “What’s that got to do with it? Edmund promised me his eastern field. Not as good what the Handers offered, but it’s better than nothing. We’re lucky anyone is still interested at all, way you’ve been acting of late.”

  Agnes patted her daughter’s hand. “I seem to recall you weren’t too inclined towards David there at the beginning, either. And didn’t I see you talking with the Felt’s boy last week? You two had heads together like a couple at the Springmelt, surely you ain’t completely opposed to your father’s arrangement.”

  “But—”

  “No ‘buts’!” Jonas’ expression grew dark. “This is my house, and so long as you live in it you’ll do what I say! You’ve been trouble enough for us as it is. I aim to see you married and put an end to your wicked ways once and for all. Ain’t that my duty as your father?”

  With each word, Ruth shrank further into her seat. The moment her father went silent she leapt to her feet. She opened her mouth as if to say something, closed it again, and ran from the room.

  Temperance sipped at the last of her soup, then rose as well.

  “I best get to putting down those protection circles, before it gets too dark to see. Don’t either of you worry about waiting up for me, I’ll likely be awhile.”

  Jonas eyed her. Temperance couldn’t help wondering what might happen to his face if the man ever stopped scowling. Break apart like fine porcelain, most likely. “Don’t you go bothering our Ruthie, now. She got enough trouble without you planting your big city ideas in her head.”

  “With all due respect, Mister Mason.” Temperance tried to maintain her smile, but she could feel the edges of it cracking. “I’m just here to catch daemons.”

  * * *

  Ruth was sitting on a woodpile next to the barn. The girl looked up as Temperance handed her a handkerchief. She blew her nose out with a loud trumpeting sound. “Thanks, Miss Alba,” she said, offering back the handkerchief.

  “You keep it, I’ve got others.”

  “It’s so unfair. Papa only thinks ‘bout this farm, or his status in town. His orak get treated better than I do ‘round here. He don’t care a whit for what I want and never has.”

  Temperance leaned against a post. “What do you want? You still planning to leave, even without David? It’s a hard world out there for a woman on her own.”

  “You’re doing just fine, ain’t you?”

  The girl’s words brought a smile to Temperance’s lips, but it was a sad one. “If you knew me better, you wouldn’t be saying that.”

  Ruth looked at her. “Still, at least you got choices. Me, all my choices are the wrong ones.” She went back to looking at her hands.

  The silence stretched. Temperance tried to think of something helpful to say. “What your ma said, is it true? If you’ve got any feelings for this Patrick, maybe things won’t be so bad.”

  Ruth’s head jerked back up. “I don’t care ‘bout Patrick! Don’t want him or any other boy in this horrid town. I want someone like . . . like . . . .” She looked at Temperance, swallowed, and lapsed into silence again.

  Temperance wasn’t sure how to respond to that. Her world was one of daemons and sorcery. The concerns of an ordinary teenage girl seemed so foreign to her. She changed the subject.

  “Light’s fading, I should get on with my work. Best not stay out here too long, I don’t want your da thinking I’m corrupting you with my ‘big city ideas’.”

  Ruth looked at her with a mixture of shock and horror, which faded as she saw Temperance’s smile. “Thanks, Miss Alba.” She rose and walked towards the house, her back a bit straighter than it had been before.

  What was that about? Temperance wondered. She shrugged. I’ll ask Astor later, he seems to know more than he’s letting on. In the meantime, I got other things that need tending to.

  * * *

  While none of the residents refused her offer to mark a protection circle, many of them seemed far less pleased for the help than they had earlier that afternoon. Temperance wondered over that, until while working on the Felts home she overhead Salina whispering to her husband Edmund. Temperance lost most of the conversation to wind and distance, but she distinctly heard the word “sorcery” at one point.

  The reverend had been busy while Temperance was at the pond. Any chance of staying in the town’s graces looked less and less likely. Good thing she didn’t plan on sticking around long.

  For that reason, among others, she left the church for last. Temperance was rather certain she knew what Reynolds would have to say about her offer of safety, but she still headed in his direction. Better to deal with his ire now than risk him claiming she left the church undefended.

  The sun set behind her as she climbed the church steps. It wasn’t much of a building, far as these places went. She’d certainly seen bigger, even in towns much the same size as Shady Hollow. Just a squat one-story building hewn from green timber, smaller even than the mayor’s home. However, Temperance noted that several of the windows had the glint of glass to them. Reynolds must have brought that with him from . . . wherever he came from, she supposed.

  Before Temperance could reach them the doors pulled open. Instead of the reverend, she stared into the face of a man with skin almost as dark as her own. His face had all the wrong angles, though, sharp where hers curved, and eyes a piercing green shade she wasn’t used to seeing. His hair was also a shock of white; not blonde, like Ruth’s, but pure white, like someone had drained the color from it. He wore a pair of overalls caked with dirt and other grime, some of which also streaked the man’s face. They blinked at each other and didn’t speak.

  At last the man broke the silence. “Apologies. Can you move, Miss?”

  Temperance stepped to the side, nearly dropping from the edge. The man pretended not to notice and hurried on his way. A moment later he disappeared behind several trees.

  “His name is Moshim.” Temperance jumped at the words. The reverend had appeared in the doorway. “One of the mine workers from up in the hills.”

  “He’s from Wenxi.” Temperance said, glancing back at the treeline.

  It wasn’t a question, but the reverend nodded. “Is that a problem, Miss Alba? I know how people on the coast view immigrants from his home nation, especially in Arkton.”

  “I have no issues with Wenxi.” Reynolds lifted an eyebrow, his gaze flicking down to take in the way Temperance still perched on the edge of the step, as if ready to take flight. She stepped forward to stand proper, and repeated, “I don’t. It’s miners I’m not particularly fond of.”

  “I see. Regardless, I ask you to please stay out of the hills, and away from the mines. He and the rest of his people have enough problems without someone like you bothering them.”

  Temperance opened her mouth to ask about that, then decided against it. One more odd thing in a town of oddities. She returned to the business on hand. “I’m here to seal the church, if you’d like.”

  “I would not. The day after tomorrow is the Sabbath, as I’m sure you know.” Here he paused, a slight smile playing across his face. What did this man know or think he knew about her? “It would not do for folk to see your daemonic symbols enclosing the house of worship.”

  “Well, I had to ask.” Temperance turned to walk away.

  “Of course, I’m certain we’ll see you in the pews, Miss Alba. Wouldn’t want the town thinking you uncomfortable in a church building. Not good to have that kind of talk about.”

  Temperance ground her teeth, paused a moment, then kept walking without looking back. The reverend’s chuckles followed her through the trees long after they should have faded away beyond her hearing.

  Attend a church service? Seems like I made a promise to someone to do that already.

  * * *

  When she arrived back at the Mason farm, the house was dark and quiet. She poked her head in, but it lo
oked as if everyone was asleep, which made sense. Even if Jonas had the lamp oil to spare, he likely rose too early to bother with staying up into the night.

  Temperance hesitated on the threshold. The farmer had made his thoughts about her protection clear earlier, but he wasn’t awake to stop her anymore, either. Besides, she would sleep better knowing nothing could get in to surprise her.

  She traced a circle around the house in chalk, marking runes in key places. It wasn’t true chalk, but rather a mixture of wax and other components that made it resistant to heat and rain. Martin had always sarcastically referred to them as “sorcerer sticks”.

  When the circle was complete, she called forth the spell, muttering ancient words of power that would repel anything short of the world ending. The circle pulsed once with a pale white light.

  “What’s that?”

  Temperance spun about at the voice. Ruth stood behind her, wrapped tight in a gray linsey-rak blanket. She paused and tilted her head, studying the faint markings.

  “Just a few safety measures.” Temperance dusted the chalk off her hands and moved to the porch. Ruth followed with a shuffling gait, the blanket snagging on the rail.

  “I thought the daemon wasn’t coming back for two more nights?” After pulling the blanket free she dropped onto the top step. Temperance settled down beside her.

  “Can’t be too careful. Now that it knows I’m here to stop it, no saying its patterns won’t change. Daemons are a lot of things, but foolish isn’t one.”

  Ruth nodded and stared out into the night. The white line encircling the house was just visible from where they sat.

  “So how’s it work?”

  “What? Oh. Like I told the rest of the town, so long as nobody crosses from inside, nothing out there can get in either. It should hold—”

  “Yeah, I got that. But how’s it work? Does sorcery really call forth the powers of Hell like the reverend says?”

  Temperance glanced at the other girl. Ruth didn’t have that look she had seen in the eyes of the rest of the townsfolk. Only mild curiosity reflected back. Still, even if she didn’t mean it as such, her comment was a painful reminder of how the rest of Shady Hollow likely viewed Temperance now. As far as the others were concerned, right now her soul was darker than a stack of black cats.