Time's Demon

by D. B. Jackson

  The dove arrived late, scratching at the shuttered window with quiet insistence until Orzili fetched it from the sill. He had agents throughout Islevale, and, of course, Pemin might send word to him at any moment, demanding information or an audience.

  This message, scrawled in a flowing, slanted hand, was so cryptic, the signature so unfamiliar, that for a spirecount he couldn’t make sense of it.

  “Inquiry in Kantaad. – GA.”

  When it dawned on him who this was from, and what it meant, he dropped into the nearest chair. At last.

  Of course, there were other Walkers between the oceans. This could be anyone. Orzili chose to believe it was Tobias. He could almost hear Pemin mocking him.

  Wishful thinking, Orzili?

  “Instinct,” he whispered, alone in his chamber.

  He considered going to Lenna and telling her that finally he had received word of the Walker. That would only remind her, though, of how long she had been here, in his time. More, he wasn’t sure how he would respond if she asked who had sent these tidings. Something about Gillian Ainfor bothered her. The other Lenna, the madwoman who still existed somewhere in this time, had been obsessed with Mearlan’s former minister. As it was, his rapport with this Lenna had grown ever more strained and distant. He barely knew how to speak with her.

  Better to keep this information from her.

  He eyed the missive again. Kantaad. Where young Lenna still lived, waiting for him, no doubt wondering when he would return and resume their life together.

  He considered Spanning to her, telling her that the Walker was on her isle. She could find him, kill him, and end all of this. Except these tidings were probably days old, or more. Chances were, Tobias found no chronofor in Kantaad and moved on. Was he back in the Ring, sailing the Inward Sea? Had he gone elsewhere? The Knot perhaps, or the Labyrinth? Where might he find the device he sought?

  Long ago, Lenna told him that she would go to Aiyanth. But was that too obvious? Were chronofors more common in the northern isles, near Trevynisle and Sholiss?

  He pushed himself out of the chair and crossed to the door, only to stop himself with a hand on the lever. He turned away, turned back, muttered a curse.

  Let her be angry. Let her ask who had sent word. Pemin wouldn’t remain patient forever. The time for such trifles had passed.

  He flung open the door and strode to Lenna’s chamber. He knocked twice before she responded. She opened the door a crack, barely enough for him to see her. She wore a diaphanous sleeping gown, and her hair was tousled. Even after all this time, his heart staggered at the sight of her.

  “What do you want?”

  “I’m sorry I woke you,” he said. “I’ve received a missive. One I’ve been waiting for. I want to discuss it with you.”

  “Now? Tonight?”

  He nodded. Her lips thinned.

  “Very well. I’ll come to your chamber.” She closed the door without waiting for his response.

  Orzili stalked back to his room and poured himself a cup of Miejan red. At her knock he called for her to enter.

  She had put on a gown, purple and flowing. More than was necessary. A simple robe would have done. Whatever trust and affection had existed between them had died since their encounter with the crazed Lenna. One more regret among many.

  “Wine?” he asked, holding up his own cup.

  “No, thank you. What message did you receive?”

  Fine. “Word of someone seeking a chronofor. In Kantaad.”

  “You believe this is the Walker. The boy you’re after.”

  “Tobias. Yes, I do.”

  “Tobias. That’s right.”

  Her eyes took on a distant look that he had noticed repeatedly in recent turns. Not for the first time, he wondered if the madness of the other Lenna had infected this one in some small way. Naturally, he didn’t give voice to his suspicions.

  “You once mentioned to me,” he said instead, “that Aiyanth would be the best place to find a Bound device. I have an agent there. I need to know where else he might go.”

  “Any large city. There’s always gold to be made from Bound devices.”

  “Of course. But is he more likely to find something in the north? Or maybe the Knot?”

  “The north,” she said. “You mean the Sisters? Or the Labyrinth?”

  “Yes.”

  “It’s possible. The Ring is best.”

  “I expect he’d choose to avoid the Ring.”

  “Out of fear of you.”

  He frowned. Was she mocking him, or still addled with sleep? “Right. I don’t think he’d come anywhere near Daerjen.”

  Before she could answer, Orzili heard more scratching at his window. Another bird?

  He opened the shutters again. A second dove flew to his desk. Orzili crossed to the creature, gripped it gently, and untied this newest missive from its leg.

  The message was longer this time, the letters cramped on the tiny parchment. Still, he recognized this hand from the last note. Gillian Ainfor again. He read the message twice, a smile tugging at his lips.

  He’d known she was clever, but this was brilliant, a way to lead Tobias exactly where Orzili wanted him.

  “Who is it from?” Lenna asked.

  He tensed, kept his gaze on the parchment, his expression neutral. “Another of my spies,” he said lightly.

  “Can I see it?”

  He closed his fist around the missive. “It’s written in cyphers. I can tell you what it says. This agent suggests that we steer the Walker toward certain parts of Islevale with well-placed rumors of Bound chronofors.”

  “Your spy – he would talk to merchants?”

  Orzili didn’t correct her. “Yes, he would.”

  “A crude deception. Won’t the Walker guess that he’s being led into a trap?”

  “Probably. He’s clever enough. So is this spy, however. And… he suggests a way to use Tobias’s suspicions to our advantage.”

  She raised an eyebrow. “Interesting. How?”

  “I’m happy to explain, but first a question for you: do Westisle’s pirates ever traffic in Bound devices?”

  Her eyes widened, the question seeming to come as a revelation. “Yes,” she said. “Whenever they can.”

  CHAPTER 29

  2nd Day of Kheraya’s Fading, Year 634

  The Sea Dove seemed a different vessel as it tacked north and west toward the Ring Isles and the Inward Sea. Tobias had never sailed aboard a ship of war, but he imagined the experience would be similar to this latest leg of their voyage.

  Every sailor who ventured out of the Dove’s hold carried a loaded firearm. Those who spent any time on deck held muskets, or wore weapons strapped across their backs. Any who climbed into the rigging carried pistols on their belts. At all times two members of the crew were assigned to watch for Belvora, one at the prow and one at the stern. Others kept vigil on the sea, searching for Shonla mists or any sign of Arrokad. At night, at least six torches burned in sconces mounted to the masts and rails. Captain’s orders.

  Tobias didn’t believe the crew could defend the ship from Arrokad if the Most Ancient Ones chose to attack, but he drew comfort from the precautions Larr had taken.

  He would have preferred to keep Sofya below, but he could no more insist on that than he could deny her food. The princess needed sunshine and cool air and the freedom to roam the vessel. She noticed the weapons and regarded them with apprehension. In her short life, she had heard and seen enough firearms discharged to connect them with frightening noises and foul smells. Still, she teetered from one end of the ship to the other, as if it was her demesne, and those aboard her subjects.

  Clouds darkened the sky over the Sea of Wraiths, and a stiff wind keened out of the west, roughening the waters and forcing the Dove to follow a jagged course toward the Rings.

  The joviality of their earlier voyaging had given way to a grim, wary quiet. Tobias felt responsible for this, and regretted it. Others on the ship gave no indication th
at they blamed him and Mara. Events in Piisen might have dampened the crew’s spirit, but they had also drawn those on the ship closer to one another, and closer to Tobias, Mara, and Sofya.

  Before they left the Knot, Captain Larr told Tobias that she would fight, and if necessary die, to keep them safe. Her crew embraced that promise. The ferocity of their friendship humbled him.

  Seven days after they sailed from Piisen, Ermond returned to the Dove. No one could say when, precisely, he boarded the vessel. One moment he wasn’t there, and the next he stood at the rear of the ship, appearing dazed, his gaze roaming the deck. His clothes were disheveled and torn, but somehow they were bone dry. He looked to have regained the years taken from him by the Tirribin, and several more besides. He bore no injuries that Tobias could see.

  Captain Larr and others peppered him with questions. Had the Arrokad hurt him? Where had she taken him? Had he been below the sea’s surface?

  He offered no replies, and regarded his inquisitors the way he might strangers speaking in a tongue he didn’t know.

  Larr ordered Bramm and Gwinda to shepherd him below and put him to bed. There he remained for more than a day. When he emerged onto the deck again he seemed no more inclined to discuss his ordeal. He did resume his duties, apparently as at home on the vessel as he had been before the Knot.

  With the wind howling against them and the sea high and rough, their progress came grudgingly. The morning Ermond resumed his duties, they were still within sight of Islecliff, leagues shy of the Lost Children. At this rate, it would take them more than a turn to reach the Inward Sea.

  Late that day, as the sky darkened, Mara shouted the words all of them had dreaded since leaving Piisen.

  “I see Belvora!”

  She stood by the prow, a musket slung over her shoulders. She pointed ahead of them, but peered over her shoulder, searching the deck for Tobias.

  He strode to her side, pistol in hand.

  There were three of them, distant still. Shadowed forms against a smoke gray sky, circling like enormous buzzards.

  Other members of the crew joined Tobias and Mara. Sofya toddled to them and tugged on Tobias’s breeches. He stooped, lifted her into his arms.

  “What you see, Papa?”

  He and Mara shared a bleak look.

  “Birds,” he said, pointing. “Big ones.”

  “I see ’em!”

  Larr was last to come forward. “I want everyone below come nightfall,” she said. “We’ll light the torches, furl the sails until morning, and take shifts guarding the hatches. Two muskets in each, and sailors to reload. Maybe they haven’t spotted us yet. Maybe they’ll come close enough tomorrow for us to get clear shots at them. Until then, I want every member of this crew sheltered.”

  No one challenged her.

  Tobias assumed the Belvora were already aware of the vessel, and knew Walkers were on board. They were hunters, keen of sight, smell, and hearing, and attuned to magick. Darkness wouldn’t dissuade them. He feared armed sailors wouldn’t either.

  They had their evening meal below, eating little, saying less, darting glances toward the hatch. Tobias and Mara put Sofya to bed, and sang with her until she fell asleep. Then they lay together on their pallet, tense, ears tuned to the ship, sifting through gale and swell and the usual creaks and groans of worn wood, for sounds of invasion. Tobias dozed off and was roused some time later by Bramm, whom he was to replace at the forward hatch.

  The sailor handed him his musket and shuffled to his hammock, clearly exhausted.

  Tobias climbed the stairs and crossed to the hatch that led to the ship’s sweeps. Ermond had already taken position there.

  He nodded to Tobias, but didn’t say anything. For a time they searched the sky.

  “It a good idea for you to be doing this?” Ermond asked, after perhaps a half-bell. “You having magick and all.”

  “I insisted. They’re after us. At least one of us should share in the risk. And the lack of sleep.”

  The sailor chuffed a dry laugh. They lapsed back into a lengthy silence. Tobias eyed Ermond nearly as much as he did the sky. Like everyone else on the ship, he was curious about the man’s time with Ujie. His interest wasn’t prurient, at least not entirely. Few humans spent so much time with any Ancient, much less an Arrokad, and lived to describe the experience.

  “I can’t talk about it, lad,” Ermond said at last, leaving Tobias abashed at having been so obvious in his interest.

  “She swore you to silence?”

  “No, nothing like that. It was… We went everywhere. She swam with me all over the isles and through every sea between the oceans. We were… together, as you’d expect. She gave me years back, but she might have robbed them of meaning. I’m not sure I’ll ever be as alive as I was for those seven days. So, talking about it is… All I’ve got now is the memory of it, and I want that for myself. Is that wrong of me?”

  Tobias shook his head. “Not at all. Forgive me.”

  Ermond smiled. “It’s nothing the others haven’t done, or that I wouldn’t be doing if you’d been the one to go.” He leaned closer, sobering. “She mentioned a boon that you owe her. That night on the ship, when she saved the wee one.”

  “Yes. She and I struck a bargain, before I came aboard the Dove.”

  Ermond shook his head, solemn as a cleric. “Whatever you do, don’t give yourself to her the way I did. It’ll ruin you for your woman, and her for you. Promise me, lad: you’ll find some other way to repay her.”

  “I’ll do my best.”

  Wind shook the vessel and rustled the furled sailcloth. Tobias surveyed the sky, and thought he glimpsed a pale form overhead.

  At the same time, one of the sailors at the rear hatch said, “Did you see that?”

  Ermond shifted on the top step and raised the butt of his musket to his shoulder. “They’re here.”

  Tobias took position opposite him, scanning the sky in the other direction.

  “They’ll come for me first,” he said, his voice low. “Probably from behind.”

  Ermond stared. “Is that why you insisted on keeping watch?” “That’s why I’ll insist every night.”

  Another shape swooped over the ship. Both of them ducked, though the demon was already past, and hadn’t flown very low.

  “They’re too fast for us to get off a shot,” Ermond said.

  “Maybe.” Tobias raised his musket. “Maybe not. If both of us fire – you, then me – we might have a chance.”

  The sailor answered with a slow nod. “We might at that. But only if you don’t flinch.”

  Tobias flashed a grin.

  A moment later, Ermond’s eyes went wide. He sighted, aimed, and pulled the trigger. The barrel of his weapon was so close to Tobias that flaming powder burned the side of Tobias’s face, and the report left his ears ringing.

  Still Tobias kept his composure. As the Belvora veered overhead, its pale body illuminated by torchfire, he aimed and loosed a shot of his own.

  The beast shrieked, sprawled out of view. Tobias heard a splash.

  Sofya cried below, the sound mingling with shouts and footsteps.

  Tobias and Ermond shouldered loaded muskets as others joined them on the deck.

  A wail from another demon to starboard drew their gazes. Tobias could see nothing of the creature.

  “Did either of you hit it?” Larr asked, stepping onto the deck.

  Ermond still peered up into the darkness. “Tobias did.”

  “Where’s Mara?” Tobias asked.

  “Below, with Nava.”

  One of the Belvora screamed again, and was answered by a second. Both had put some distance between themselves and the ship.

  “Where is the one you shot?” Larr asked.

  Tobias and Ermond pointed at the same time.

  Bramm moved to the rail. “Someone should row out and take off its head.”

  Gwinda joined him on that side of the ship. “I’ll go with you.”

  Yadreg took one of
the torches from a sconce. “So will I.”

  Captain Larr gave them leave, and soon they were oaring away from the Dove in the direction of the fallen Belvora. All three of them carried pistols and swords.

  Before long, another pistol shot told those on the Dove that they had found the demon. A second shot sounded an instant later. Larr stared into the darkness, worry etched in her lean face. No third shot came. Tobias thought the demon must be dead.

  “You did well to kill one of them,” the captain said. “Maybe the other two will think twice about coming back.”

  Tobias wasn’t sure he believed this. “I should keep watch for a few bells more.”

  “Usin’ himself as bait, he is,” Ermond said.

  Tobias cast a scowl his way.

  “Sorry, lad. The captain needs to know. It’s her ship.”

  Larr walked to where they stood. “What’s this?”

  Ermond and Tobias exchanged glances.

  “If I’m on deck, they’re most likely to attack me,” Tobias admitted.

  “So you’re putting my ship at risk.”

  “Your ship is at risk no matter what. By putting me in plain view, we’re making the Belvora more predictable. They’re predators, dangerous to be sure, but not as canny as other Ancients. They can’t resist magick.”

  Larr glared. “I should put you in chains and keep you below.”

  “I’m too good a shot.”

  “And how would you feel if your wife put herself at risk the way you have? I seem to recall that she’s as good with a flintlock as you are.”

  Better, actually. Tobias looked away rather than admit this. The corners of his mouth twitched.

  “I thought as much.”

  The pinnace glided back into view, Bramm rowing, the other two positioned at either end of the boat, both with pistols at the ready.

  Larr glowered at Tobias for another moment before turning her attention to her sailors.

  “The demon is dead?”

  “Yes, captain.”

  “Good. We’ll–”