“That makes sense… sort of,” I muttered. “Listen, Merin, I need your help. If you can, that is. I’m looking for my friend Demios. Arrah’s brother? He worked in the Roho mansion. Do you, by any chance, know him?”
“Mm-hm…” He nodded slowly. “Most of the Imen my age know Demios. He used to be such a rascal when we were kids. One time, he almost burned down the White Star Hotel by accident, and we—”
“Merin, I’m in a bit of a rush here,” I interrupted him. On any other occasion, I probably would’ve endured one or two childhood memories, but my clock was ticking. I was maybe fifteen minutes away from needing a refill on my invisibility spell, and I had to be in Demios’s presence when that happened, so he could see me. “Do you know where they’re keeping him?”
“I do,” he said, pointing up above his head. “They let the inmates from above out once in a while, for ten minutes. He came by to see me. He’d heard me scream when they first brought me down here, begging to be reformed, not jailed. I wasn’t that lucky…”
Merin’s attention span was downright dismal.
“Where are they keeping him?” I persisted.
“Up on the third level,” he conceded. “Cell number twenty, he told me. As if I could do anything with that information while I’m stuck down here…”
“Well, turns out you just did something with it right now.” I wished he could see me smile. “Thank you, Merin, you’ve been really helpful. I promise I’ll speak to the Correction Officers in charge and see if we can get your sentence reduced or something.”
I was being honest. Of course, I wouldn’t tell them about how he helped me get to Demios, since I was going to break Arrah’s brother out of jail. But I was definitely going to speak to Lord Kifo about it… Maybe make up a little story about how he provided important information regarding last night’s daemon attack. Whatever worked.
“Thank you,” Merin replied, tears glazing his eyes as he pressed his lips tightly together.
“Hang in there,” I whispered, then left him and snuck up the metal stairs leading to the cellblocks above.
I walked past a Correction Officer, then checked the top side of the cells as I moved forward. Number five… ten… fifteen… twenty.
There was a young Iman lying in his scruffy single bed, staring at the ceiling. His facial features were the only thing he had in common with Arrah. His eyes were dark brown, and his hair was long and black as a crow’s feather. I found the striking difference between Demios and his sister quite odd; Arrah had a beautiful pair of pale green eyes and light brown hair.
I fumbled through my pockets for my lock-picking tool. It was a simple metal object resembling a very slim nail file. I couldn’t see what I was doing, but this wasn’t my first lock—nor was it going to be my last. My fingers worked on instinct until I heard the much-needed click, and I slowly pushed the cell door open.
Demios shot up into a seated position, his eyes wide with fear. Since he couldn’t see me yet, I could only imagine the horror going through his head, as he probably expected to get his soul eaten or something.
“Please don’t scream or anything,” I whispered, and pulled the cell door shut behind me, careful not to make any unnecessary noise. “I’m not a daemon. I’m not here to hurt you, I promise.”
He raised his eyebrows and gave me a brief nod. I realized then that he was looking right at me. I glanced down and noticed the invisibility spell fading away, revealing me.
“I can see that now… That you’re not a daemon, I mean,” Demios replied. “They’re ugly, scary beasts…”
“You’ve seen them, too?” I felt my jaw drop.
“Only in books.” He shrugged and moved to the side of his bed. His pupils were also dilated, but he seemed much calmer, more composed than Merin. A better sight than the Imen in the other cages, too. “I heard them last night, but… I couldn’t see them. Only white lights leaving the cages…”
“Oh… you witnessed the whole soul-eating part, then,” I said, then flipped back into my state of urgency. It was only a matter of time before a Correction Officer passed by Demios’s cell. I listened carefully to the footsteps, which were currently on the other side of the block. “Demios, I’m here to help you.”
“Help me how?”
He’s as blank as the other one…
“I’m going to get you out of here and take you to your sister,” I replied, and took my little jar of invisibility paste out of my backpack, holding it out for him to see. “Eat half of this, and we’ll be out of here in minutes.”
“Wait… Wait… Hold on.” Demios frowned, then shook his head. “I’m in prison. I committed a crime. I belong here.”
“Are you sure about that?” I raised an eyebrow, somehow sensing exactly how deleted his brain was. Once more, Heron’s accounts of extreme mind-bending came to mind, and Demios looked and sounded like an excellent example. His movements were slow, his responses even slower—not to mention the blank look on his face, the mild slur in his speech, and his dilated pupils, all signs of Mara intervention. He nodded, his lips parting as if his jaw couldn’t keep up with the rest of his head. “Okay, why are you in prison, then?”
“I… I committed a crime…”
“What crime?”
“I… I… I think I…”
I could almost hear his train of thought derailing and crashing into a dark abyss. He had no idea why he’d been jailed in the first place. His brow furrowed as he scratched the back of his head, struggling to remember.
“That’s what I thought,” I muttered. “You’ve been mind-bent, Demios. You don’t belong here. Your sister sent me. She knows you’re innocent.”
“You know my sister?”
“Yes, and I promised her I would help. Do you want to see Arrah again?” I asked. He nodded in response, so I gave him the jar. He took it with trembling fingers and stared at the shimmering paste inside for a moment, before he gave me a questioning look. “Eat half of that. It will make you invisible, like I was just now. I’ll need the other half. Once we vanish, we’ll be able to move freely and quietly get out of this place. They won’t even know what happened to you.”
The Correction Officer’s steps seemed closer than before. I needed Demios to move fast, so I removed the lid from the jar and took his hand, helping him scoop out some of the paste. He finished the rest of the movement and swallowed the glimmering cream, his tongue clicking against the roof of his mouth. He cringed a little.
“Yeah, not exactly honey and plums, I know.” I scoffed and consumed the rest of the jar before I put it back in my bag. No way was I leaving any evidence behind. I took Demios’s hand and helped him up, then hooked his finger into one of my pockets. “Okay, we’re about to vanish now. Whatever happens, do not let go of me, okay?”
Demios gazed at me with fascination. We were shimmering away, and disappeared before I heard the Correction Officer move forward on the other side. We still had about thirty seconds to get out without bumping into the Mara.
“Remember, Demios,” I whispered. “Don’t let go!”
“I won’t let go,” he breathed.
At least he was paying attention.
I fluffed up the raggedy pillows and sheets on Demios’s bed, enough to make it look like he was still in bed—at least from a distant, casual angle. We then left the cell, and I carefully pulled the door shut behind me and put the lock back in place.
It would require an extra ounce of attention from a Correction Officer to notice something wrong in Demios’s cell. If the universe worked in our favor, they wouldn’t notice he was gone until morning, at least.
I took a deep breath, and we quietly slipped down the stairs, all the way to the bottom level. My heart was pounding in my chest, but I took comfort in the fact that Demios was still clinging to my pocket—he was obeying me, which was important if we wanted to get out of here in one piece and without triggering any alarms, or, worse, some massive Iman-hunt…
We reached the gate through whi
ch Caia and Blaze had come through. I picked the lock, then gently opened it, and went through, frequently looking over my shoulder to make sure no one was looking our way. Fortunately, the Correction Officers were scattered above, their backs to us.
I closed the gate behind us, and then went up the stairs. About two minutes in, I could hear Demios breathing heavily. It was a long way up, and he didn’t have the physical strength to keep up with my usual speed.
“I’m guessing we’ll have to take a couple of breaks along the way.” I sighed. “It’s a long way up, my friend.”
“It’s… It’s okay… I can do it… But yeah… Breaks… I need… I need a break…”
Demios was already out of breath. I stretched my neck around, bracing myself for a slightly longer trip back to the top. It was either that or carry him on my back, and I didn’t want it to get to that just yet.
I’d had a long freaking day already, and I was exhausted. That bed at the Broken Bow Inn was already on my mind. And so was Zane and my experience as his prisoner. Weirdest six or seven hours in my life.
“Ready to go?” I asked, eager to drop him off at the South Bend Inn, where his sister was checked in, along with the other Lords’ servants.
The sooner I got Arrah on our side, the quicker I could just sink into a bed and black out for a few hours. Demios didn’t answer.
“Demios?”
“Yes?”
“Are you ready?” I reformulated my question.
“Yes, I nodded yes…”
“I can’t see you, buddy.” I almost stifled a grin before I remembered he couldn’t see me either. “Let’s go.”
We kept moving. It wasn’t long before he needed another break.
By the third pause, however, I groaned with frustration and grabbed him, tossing him over my shoulder like a bag of potatoes. He whimpered for a while, but eventually got accustomed to being carried up hundreds of stairs.
“You’re strong,” he croaked at one point.
Indeed, I was. But I was also very tired. Every minute that passed made me cry out for my bed. The adrenaline was finally leaving my body, and exhaustion was slowly settling in.
Just a little more, Fi. Just a bit.
Fiona
(Daughter of Benedict & Yelena)
After we reached the third level of the city, we made our way up to the seventh, where the South Bend Inn was. The building was quite large, nestled between cobblestone alleys, with a dark green tile roof and white walls. Judging by the size, it probably housed over one hundred rooms, and the lights were on in most of them. The inn was almost full, given the sudden influx of Imen servants from the five Lords’ mansions, which meant I had to scour through the reception registry for Arrah’s name and room number.
I set Demios down on his feet and he resumed his grip on my pocket. “Don’t let go, Demios,” I whispered as we approached the inn’s front entrance.
There were many Imen and Maras out, all of them wearing looks of grief and concern on their faces. At least three hours had passed since the attack. The wounds were still fresh, and rumors buzzed around the scattered crowd. I caught snippets of various conversations, and they all revolved around who could’ve done such a horrible thing, and why. The word “daemons” came up several times, along with “It can’t be!” and “How can they be real?” The people of the city were clearly in the dark, but had a faint idea as to what was going on.
I felt Demios still tugging my pocket as we slipped past the Imen gathered in front of the entrance. We snuck through the spacious lobby and made it behind the reception desk. The Iman in charge, a young female in a simple black dress with long sleeves and brown hair caught up in a tight bun, was busy explaining the inn’s policies to an elderly couple.
She had her back to the registry—a large, leather-bound book with brownish pages. I quickly flipped through it, until I found Arrah’s name listed at the bottom.
Room forty-three.
We then went up the stairs to the second floor, and made our way down the hallway until we found room number forty-three. I glanced around, checking to see if anyone was close enough to hear us. There were several Imen at the end, coming down from the third floor, but too far away to hear us.
I knocked on the door, and, less than half a minute later, Arrah opened it. There were traces of soot on her face, and parts of her service dress had been burnt, but she was okay from what I could tell at first glance.
“Sister!” Demios’s voice erupted from my side.
Crap, no! Too soon.
Arrah was startled and looked around, visibly confused. I found Demios’s hand gripping my pocket and pulled him inside the room, shushing him in the process. Arrah yelped, then turned around, her greenish eyes wide with shock and fear.
“Arrah, don’t be scared; it’s me, Fiona,” I said gently, standing in the middle of her room. “You can’t see me yet, but I’m here, and so is your brother.”
“Wha… What?” she managed, then quickly looked over her shoulder at the hallway, and shut the door behind her, locking it for good measure. “What’s happening? Why can’t I see you? Demios?”
“I’m here, Sister,” he replied.
“We’re using an invisibility spell. It should wear off soon,” I added.
“Demios?” Arrah’s face lit up.
I felt him let go of my pocket. Arrah gasped, held her arms out, then smiled and put them around an invisible Demios. They were hugging. She burst into tears, sighing with relief as she felt her brother’s embrace.
“How… How is this possible?” she croaked, relaxing in Demios’s arms.
The spell started to wear off, revealing us with a fading shimmer. Perfect timing.
“We have some tricks up our sleeves.” I winked, as Arrah could finally see me. “As you can see, I managed to get your brother out of prison.”
They held each other, and Arrah gradually regained her composure, wiping tears and swallowing back another round. She held his face in her hands, frowning as she briefly checked his expression, his eyes, and his overall look. Demios was quiet, sporting a blank half-smile that further confirmed her suspicions.
“He’s been severely mind-bent,” she murmured, then stared at me. “They really did a number on him, didn’t they?”
“I think so. I’m sorry.” I shrugged, leaning against a wooden cabinet by the wall facing her bed. It was a simple room, with modest but sturdy furniture and a floral-patterned bedspread. “He doesn’t even remember what he did to get himself imprisoned.”
“Oh, Demios,” she breathed, shifting her focus back to her brother.
“I’m okay now. I’m with you,” he said.
She guided him over to the bed and pushed him into a seated position, then turned to face me.
“I have to get him out of here. I need to get him as far away from this city and the Maras as possible,” she said.
“Do you intend to go beyond the gorges, to the western plains, by any chance?” I asked.
“I can’t go anywhere while the daemons are out and prowling around the city.” She shook her head, giving her brother a sideways glance. Demios was quite lethargic, his shoulders down and his eyes droopy. “I’ll have to hide him somewhere in the city until we can both leave safely… though I don’t know when that will be…”
“Do you have a place in mind?”
“A couple of my father’s old friends might be able to help, yes.” She pursed her lips, running her fingers through Demios’s long hair. He closed his eyes and let himself fall back, instantly dozing off. “They’ve turned his brain into mush… It will take months, maybe years to fix him…”
“Can you fix mind-bending?” I replied, wondering how that could possibly work. I’d never heard of anyone, other than the Mara who had originally inflicted the mind-bending, being able to undo it.
“It’s not easy, but yes,” Arrah explained briefly. “It doesn’t always work, though. It’s a longshot, and it’s painful and time consuming, but it’s worth
a try. My brother is a bright young Iman. He doesn’t deserve to be reduced to… this.”
I walked over to the window, checking the crowd still gathered outside. They were all restless, whispering to one another while giving the nearby Correction Officers some fearful looks. Some looked hopeful, though—as if Lord Kifo’s people really could keep them safe. All I could do in that moment was hope that the protection spell would work the second time around, and that Arrah would be able to fill in some of the gaps in our knowledge about Azure Heights and its inhabitants.
“Arrah, we’ve kept our end of the bargain, as you can see,” I said. “In fact, we’ve done a lot more. We got you your brother back. I need you to come through for us and tell us what’s going on here. You know more than you’ve told us; there’s no point denying it.”
“I’m not going to deny it,” Arrah replied, then pointed at her brother. “I need to take Demios to safety. Once he’s hidden and out of reach, I will come to you, and I will tell you everything I know. I promise!”
“Why can’t we talk now?”
“Because my brother is still here. He could be sleeping, or he could be pretending.” She shuddered. “If they mind-bent him, it means he’s susceptible to various commands, including subconsciously spying on me, or worse. He wouldn’t even know it. I can’t put you or anyone else in danger, and I have to keep him safe. So, I’ll take him somewhere in the city where no one can find him. He’ll be restrained and be given a first treatment to break the mind-bending effect he’s under. Then, and only then, will I be able to speak freely.”
Partly satisfied with the result of my endeavor to reunite Demios with his sister in exchange for information, I took a deep breath and walked over to the door.
“Arrah, please don’t let us down,” I said. “Come talk to me as soon as you get your brother to safety. I don’t want us to go into enemy territory without potentially life-saving information again. It nearly got us killed.”
Arrah gave me a brief nod, paired with a reassuring smile.
A Den of Tricks Page 5