Demon Eye

by B B Reed

  Inka cast a mischievous grin, “Why do you think my lady lives so far away from Arras Ando? Even nobles struggle to tolerate their own kind.”

  Their ride jostled as the wheels rattled over a pot hole in the road, the pair exchanging small talk as the road curved northwards into the heart of thickening timber. The conversation made the majority of the ride pass by quickly, the sun’s arc steadily sinking to the horizon. The waning daylight dimmed under the shroud of branches overhead, trunks stretching up thick and high, making the hollows of Brighthall appear as weeds in comparison. The blackened forest cover gave Halena pause, and she watched the trunks pass by her window, “How much further until we arrive?”

  “Not much longer. Reaching the Ravenswood itself is the last jaunt of the journey.” Inka said, her posture calm and almost entertained by her guest’s cautious glances out at the ominous woodlands.

  “This is what your lady’s namesake takes after, then?” She looked up at the thin grey speckles of light dripping through the crisscrossing web of branches above.

  Inka chuckled, bobbing her head in acknowledgement, “Mm-hm. Quite a cozy retreat from the hurry and worry of the city.”

  The looming branches put Halena on edge, the sensation of claustrophobia settling in and the temptation of the forest beyond the carriage hard to resist. She sat, muted, and her eyes peered into the forest with wonder, watching the gnarled trunks roll past the window. Inka attempted to continue conversation, but soon fell quiet, studying Halena’s distant gaze. The woods called to her and memories of her aunt’s cottage surfaced in her thoughts. It was a strange feeling of calm and comfort the Ravenswood gave her.

  “It’s a little intimidating, isn’t it? I feel like I would get lost quickly if I wandered too far into those woods.” Inka said, looking out the same window as Halena.

  She shook her head, violet catseyes flicking back to Inka, “Not at all. I’m never frightened to be in even the darkest forest.”

  “No?”

  Halena hesitated, mindful of her aunt’s mantra, and adjusted the mantra she knew so well, “Because… Most creatures in the woods are more afraid of us than we are of them.”

  The azure scholar’s eyebrows lofted, “I’ve never considered that before. I wonder if Lady Jeanne feels the same way.”

  The gray light of the overcast sunlight brightened as the carriage broke through the black shroud of trees into a clearing of meticulously manicured grass and hedges. The road banked to the right, following a circular roundabout as the drive pulled up to the gates of a courtyard. What appeared to be a small house sits off to the side, another carriage parked inside, passed by their ride until the horses whinnied at a full stop. A moment later, Liam the driver pulled the door open, holding it for Inka and Halena to exit, “Here we are. The trip wasn’t too hard on you both, was it?”

  Halena’s knees groaned as she stood and stretched her muscles, the stiffness fading away instantly, “I’ve certainly endured worse.”

  She looked up at the high stone walls and the gate before them, the pointed gables of a house behind them. Inka took the lead, gesturing for her guest to join her, “Miss Maris, I would like to welcome you to Ravenwood Manor.”

  Halena said nothing, falling in line behind Inka as the gate was pulled open by an attendant. Inside the walls, early fall flowers were bedded in partitions at the foot of the immense house’s front porch, and more hedging to accent the walkway leading up there. Tall stony pillars held up the high gable over the double doors of the house, giving it a muted, intimidating aura. Inka’s heels clicked up the stone steps up to the porch landing and she turned the handle, “Once we’re inside, don’t pay any mind to Dorian. He doesn’t bite.”

  “Who is Dorian?”

  “Lady Ravenwood’s butler. He looks scary, but he’s as tame as a housecat.” Inka smiled and pushed the dark oak door open, inviting her new friend into the foyer.

  The high vaulted ceilings and a brass chandelier gave the room a modest air, a rug stretched out before the door. Two doors shouldered the room’s sides, a large glass window letting in light from the courtyard beyond. Losing herself to her observations, Halena caught Inka exiting through the right door and jogged over to catch up. The pair rounded a corner, going down a cozy, decorated hallway adorned with patterned red wallpaper and paintings of countryside sunsets.

  Halena turned her head as they passed the quaint pieces of décor and absently trailed Inka under the grand archway to the main hall. A great fire roared in a tall, stone-built fireplace, masterful depictions of winged figures shouldering the flames. The walls surrounding them were lined from floor to ceiling with bookshelves, walkways and stairs leading to the upper partition of the great library. Some sofas occupied the empty space down the hall’s floor, a globe of the world set to the side. A banner emblazoned with the house’s coat of arms loomed over the fireplace with a profile of a raven’s head on a blue tapestry. Just below, sitting atop the mantle, a portrait of a black-haired man with a tuft of facial hair covering his chin and sharp eyes gazed down on them.

  Before the roaring fire, a comfortable armchair with a table beside it cast a long shadow. Halena dared not speak, chest tight with anticipation. Heavy footsteps thump to her right, double doors swinging open. Her breath hitched in her throat as an enormous figure emerged. Perhaps the tallest man she had ever seen strolled out, back straight as a pine beam, broad shoulders back, and feet forward as he moved with decades of practiced elegance. His graying hair was slicked back and a thick peppered beard wrapped around his jaw. Thick eyebrows sat atop his eyes, his stony features further accentuated by the high bridge to his nose. In his large hands he carried a decanter to the arm chair, bending in offering. A hand reached out from the chair’s silhouette, cradling a wine glass, and the man filled it with a rich red wine. He rose, holding the decanter ready, and looked over towards the pair.

  Inka gave a cheerful wave and the large man’s deep voice calmly answered, “My lady, Inka has returned from Arras Ando... along with a guest.”

  The scholar looked back to Halena, motioning for her to stay put as she crossed the great living room to shoulder the other side of the armchair. Inka bowed and chatted quietly with the silhouette.

  Although she was not under watchful eyes, Halena’s feet were leaden and the muscles in her legs tense. The dreadful ringing in her ears started as her nerves coiled in anticipation.

  Inka nodded, her smile never leaving her lips, and gestured to her guest. She stood upright and took a step back, shadows from the fireplace dancing with movement from the chair. A woman in a royal blue doublet, coattails flaring down from her hips, high boots, and stark black hair held together in a bun rocked forward. The click of her cane on the floorboards followed in tandem with her steps as she limped closer. Her coat was worn with the left arm and shoulder hanging off her body, her arm tucked in a simple soft leather sling. Even with her limp, the woman still carried herself with dignity as she approached, chin up.

  She stopped in front of Halena, sharp dark eyes just like the man’s in the portrait, sizing her up. Her lips were painted a dusky violet color and a touch of makeup along the noblewoman’s eyes added a complementing shadow to her refined, mature appearance. The hints of age lines were present in the woman’s eyes and mouth, but one would have to look to notice. Those lips curled at the corner, pulling into an entertained smirk, “So, this is the hero of Brighthall?”

  Halena nodded and quickly bent at the waist, imitating Inka and the butler’s greetings to the noblewoman, “It’s… an honor to meet you, Lady Ravenwood.”

  The noblewoman looked up to the large butler behind her, “Dorian, prepare a wine glass for our friend and see to it that she has a place with us in the dining room.”

  The enormous mountain of a butler inclined his head at Jeanne, turning away to duck into the door he had emerged from, his quiet footsteps belying his size. Lady Ravenwood’s fingers played over the decorated handle of her cane, keeping Halena in place with he
r gaze, “It seems I have much to discuss with you.”

  VII

  The Maverick’s Offer

  Halena and Jeanne sat on one of the plush sofas in the main hall for the better part of an hour, the noblewoman keenly listening to Halena’s recount of Brighthall’s troubles. Starting from the rumored reports, down to the horrific encounter with old Simon. All throughout Lady Ravenwood sat quietly, legs crossed in proper form, her wine glass gradually draining as she sipped it through the tale. As the story came to a close, she set the glass aside and cleared her throat, “Miss Maris, I would thank you for putting yourself up to this task. Very few people have the nerve, nor the expertise, to look into the eyes of darkness and see it through to the end.” Her finger traced around the edges of her glass, mulling it all over for a moment, “You’ve saved me a great deal of effort for my travels to the east. Tis a shame I was not aware of your involvement sooner, for I would have offered a more fitting reward for risking your life.”

  Halena nodded, cradling her wine glass in her hands, though it had remained quite full, “It’s just part of my job, Lady Ravenwood. The citizens were grateful to have peace restored.”

  Jeanne smirked at the woman’s modesty, “You think so little of yourself. A wandering adventurer who throws herself at the jaws of danger? Incredible.” She sighed wistfully, “Your kind are... sorely missed company these days.”

  “My… kind?” Halena blinked, fingers tightening on the neck of the wineglass.

  Jeanne perhaps noticed, “Why, hunters of dark beasts, of course, whether they be spirit or flesh.” That same smirk curled on her lips again, “At times it feels as if I’m the only one in Arram who checks for monsters under her bed anymore. Alas, where there is no demand for a craft, those who know its inner workings grow smaller in number with each passing summer.”

  She reached for her glass, only to find it empty, blowing a short, irritated breath through her nose. Halena looked down into her wine glass, hazarding a miniscule sip of the dry red inside to avoid rudeness. She wet her lips from the wine’s sour bite, “I’m certain the situation would have worsened if a garrison of soldiers were forced to intervene. More bloodshed and no guarantee that Simon would stay dead.”

  “That is very troubling news, indeed. Attempting to ‘magick away’ the problem death poses to all of us. If the Manin are hiding away powerful information like this, they will be hearing from me and the Inquisitory Tribunal.” Jeanne added, fingers resuming to play with the head of her cane.

  “I don’t believe so. In his mad gloating, he made mention of a noble that he learned this ritual from and seemed to resent the college for throwing him out.” She said, giving up trying to drink more of the wine and setting it aside as well.

  Lady Ravenwood’s brow lofted inquisitively, “Oh? Does this noble have a name?”

  Halena folded her hands in her lap, “Does Lady Doctus sound familiar?”

  “Mm…” Jeanne gave a sour, yet thoughtful grunt, “Very familiar.”

  “The professor I spoke with at the college said this woman was executed, but they never told me why. All she said was Lady Doctus was trying to practice magick.” Halena probed further.

  “I’m not surprised. The college would rather wash their hands completely of any ties it may have had to that mess. It would also explain why Simon was ousted from their ranks. Talk of bringing the dead back to life with dark rites would set the heralds on alert.” The noblewoman answered with coldness in her words.

  Halena tilted her head, confusion creasing her brow, “They... did sound rather indifferent about his death.”

  Jeanne uncrossed her leg, rising to her feet, “I would suggest you put further worries about Simon to rest. They’re no longer an active threat to Arram’s communities and the knowledge they once held is buried with them.”

  Surprised by Jeanne’s insistence, Halena blinked, “Are you certain… my lady?”

  She bit her lip, making a poor attempt to be proper, “What if someone else that worked with them attempted the same ritual and succeeded?”

  A small laugh rattled from the noble, and she shook her head, “I have done an exhaustive investigation into the case, my dear. Trust my word and lend me your attention for now.”

  Halena’s breath hitched in her chest, the commanding presence Jeanne maintained keeping her tongue and thoughts still. She nodded once, giving Jeanne her undivided attention, “Y-Yes, Lady Ravenwood?”

  Walking towards the grand fireplace and looking up at the portrait hanging above, Lady Jeanne spoke, “My family has a long history of fighting the war in the dark. The Knights of Ravenwood have played a vital role in protecting the land from malevolent magicks and creatures since the dawn of the Holy See. Even as magick was outlawed for posing as ‘false miracles’, we held fast to our duty. We did our job well… Almost too well.”

  Lady Jeanne turned and faced Halena, “I would have great use for someone with your skills. Killing a user of magickal arts is no easy task, even for a seasoned veteran like myself.”

  Halena’s eyes scanned over Jeanne’s arm in a sling, down to her cane, then back up to the noblewoman’s face in disbelief of her words. “You would?”

  “I have been in dire need of bodies more able than mine to assist in my family’s duties. Inka insisted that you seemed promising and I must agree with her assessment. It seems we share the same goal: Protecting the defenseless from darkness.” Jeanne grinned, tipping the beaked head of her cane at Halena, “You would be a perfect fit for my house.”

  Halena struggled to speak, but no words could be formed. She let out a nervous laugh at Jeanne, “Hah… Lady Ravenwood, are—are you asking me to work for you? You must be joking.”

  Jeanne leaned on her cane, letting out a hearty chuckle of her own, “I don’t think it could be spelled out more plainly if it were written across my breasts! It’s not every day that a red-eyed monster hunter is delivered to my parlor.”

  The color drained from Halena’s cheeks upon the mention of her markings, “What would you have me do, Lady Ravenwood, if I were to accept your offer?”

  The noblewoman’s cool smirk returned to her dusky lips, “I would have you continue the same vital work you have been doing, except as my retainer. You’ll be paid for your service and lodging guaranteed wherever I may need you. However…”

  Halena hung on the edge of her seat, expectant eyes on Jeanne.

  “That depends if you are truly as skilled as you look. Our foes are crafty, relentless, and unpredictable. I need to know if you are capable of carrying out this duty.” Jeanne raised an eyebrow at her guest, her dark eyes scanning over her in appraisal.

  Pride swelled in Halena’s chest, “Then I will prove my ability to you, Lady Ravenwood. I have extensive notes and evidence I can share with you from my travels.”

  With a dismissing wave of her cane head, Jeanne stopped her, “There will be no need for that. I have my own test for you to undertake, if you’re serious about my offer.”

  “What’s the test?” Halena asked and the sound of jingling from the doorway behind her interrupts her question.

  A modestly dressed young blonde woman stepped out from the double doors, bowing to Jeanne, “My lady, dinner is ready.”

  Jeanne nodded at her servant, “I will explain over our meal. You must be famished after all of your traveling.”

  Halena agreed, following behind Jeanne’s strides into the dining hall. Much like the rest of the estate, the dining hall was decorated with cozy dark colors that made the lamps and candles glow even brighter. A long, expertly carved dining table stretched across the middle of the room, covered with a length of white table cloth complete with a brass candelabra at its center. A light touch to Halena’s shoulder made her jump, wheeling around and backing away.

  The young servant woman threw her hands up, eyes wide with surprise, “Forgive me, miss! Would you like me to take your cloak and bag so you may eat in comfort?”

  Halena glowered with intensity and
confusion, her hands gripping tightly around the strap of her bag. “N-No… I couldn’t.”

  Jeanne’s voice called from behind, “You may keep your bag with you, but surely you can part with your cloak. Hilde will take good care of it.”

  She hesitated, then nodded in agreement, “Fair enough.” She untied the cord holding her cloak around her shoulders and the gentle fingers of the servant lift it away. Hilde folded the dirty garment over her arm, forcing a smile at Halena, grimacing lines straining to bleed through the gesture. Her nose wrinkled and the musty smell from the cloak left with Hilde to be hung up.

  “Is that better? Have a seat. Inka should be down any moment.” Jeanne gestured to the seat to her right.

  Halena moved stiffly to her chair, slinging her bag from her shoulder, depositing it against the chair leg, and scooted into place at the table. Despite the fine furnishings and comfort that came with Lady Jeanne’s house, the sterility of noble living felt foreign and her unkempt presence an intrusion. The knot in her stomach only worsened as these swirling feelings made the invisible needles on the back of her neck burn.

  The click of Inka’s shoes on the floorboards announced her approach through the double doors, hair bound together in a tail, and her traveling effects exchanged for a plain set of robes with sleeves that flared loosely at the wrist. She tutted, making her way around to the seat directly across from Halena, “I see you two have become acquainted. Talks have gone well?”

  “Better than I could have hoped. I believe your new friend might be a great fit for House Ravenwood.” Jeanne nodded to Inka, resting into the tall back of her seat. Another set of footsteps thumped through the door, the enormous shadow of the graying butler emerging from the kitchen with a plate in his hands. Two other maid servants followed with trays of their own, unloading their dishes before Inka and Halena while the giant manservant tended to Jeanne exclusively.

  The plate presented a pink rack of lamb with a dark sauce drizzled over the savory meat in modest quantities. A ring of green vegetables framed the spread, making the meal just as much a piece of art as it was food. Silverware arranged around the plate proves to be most puzzling, multiple forks, knives, and spoons set out for free use. She looked up to Jeanne for clues on how to attack her plate, but her peculiar adjustments for her injuries dashes that option away. The noblewoman sat back while the large butler stooped over the plate to cut up the meat for his lady, offering it back to her so that she may easily eat with a fork alone.