Mercs & Magi

by Jamie Edmundson

  Sari ignored him. She didn’t know.

  She walked farther into the jungle. The canopy above blocked much of the sunlight, but she could still tell that the sun was beginning to set. The heat of the day began to dissipate a little.

  After walking for some time, Sari began to detect the sound of trickling water amidst the other noises of the jungle. Desperately thirsty now, she headed in that direction.

  Sari stopped. Ahead, on a rocky rise of land, a fast-flowing stream dropped several feet down into a pool of water. It was this sound that had drawn her, but it was something else that had made her stop. A timber-built cottage stood on the rocky ground, just next to the stream.

  Sari had heard plenty of stories of the people who lived in such a place. Witches. They kidnapped children and took them deep into the jungle, where no-one could find them. Other stories said they had powerful magic, and that they might use their powers to help the sick and desperate, for a price.

  ‘We should get away from here,’ warned her demon.

  Sari allowed herself a mirthless grin. He made it sound like he was concerned for her. Her demon’s dislike of the place only made her want to approach the cottage to spite him. What exactly should she fear? Was being killed by a witch any worse than being killed by the beasts of the jungle?

  * * *

  Sari walked over to the cottage. She looked about, in case anyone was working outside. The cottage had a garden with two small wooden huts in it. The stream babbled pleasantly up here, just before it dropped into the pool down below. But no-one was working outside.

  Hesitantly, she approached the door. She gave it a knock.

  ‘Hello?’ she called, then waited for a response. None came.

  She pulled at the door, which swung outwards.

  ‘What are you doing, you fool?’ hissed her demon.

  Sari peered inside. It was a small cottage but looked well cared for. A rock hearthplace faced her, with a large pile of firewood to one side. The flooring and walls were wooden, and the roof was built from wooden rafters, thatched with dried reeds. The basic furniture inside was also made from wood, and hanging from every conceivable space—the walls and the rafters—were clumps of leaves, herbs, roots, bark and more. Some looked freshly picked, some had been dried out, but between them they gave the cottage an intense, aromatic smell. It was far more inviting than Sari had imagined. But no-one was home.

  ‘Good. Let’s get out of here while we still can,’ Sari’s demon said, still apparently concerned for her welfare.

  But it was too late now. A figure was approaching from the trees. It was an old woman and she had already seen them. The woman looked about, perhaps wondering whether Sari had really come alone, or was part of a group. Satisfied, she walked towards her. A small carrying basket was strapped around her neck, filled with mushrooms and other ingredients she had foraged from the jungle.

  ‘How did you get here?’ she asked Sari, her voice full of authority.

  Her hair had turned grey and her skin was wrinkled with age. She had deep, dark eyes, and Sari could imagine that once she had been beautiful.

  ‘From the university.’

  The woman gave a grunt at that piece of information, looking up at the sky.

  ‘It’s too late to get you back there now. I’ll take you in the morning. Come in, you’ll have to sleep here.’

  Sari followed her into the cottage, where the woman took the basket from around her neck and hung it on a hook.

  ‘What’s your name?’

  ‘Sari.’

  ‘I am Mustika.’

  She grabbed a large jug.

  ‘Here, fetch some water from the brook.’

  Sari did as she was told, walking over to the brook and kneeling on the rocky ground. First, she cupped her hands together and brought some of the clear water to her mouth, repeating the process until her immediate thirst was sated. Then she filled the jug and returned to the cottage.

  Inside, Mustika had got a fire going in the hearth and was working with a knife on her table, preparing ingredients and placing them into a large pot.

  ‘Here girl, fill these cups, then refill the jug.’

  * * *

  Once Mustika had prepared the meal, adding the water from the second jug to make a stew, she hung the pot above the fire and allowed it to slowly cook. Rich and spicy aromas began to fill the cottage, making Sari realise how hungry she was.

  Mustika took a seat in her comfy chair to one side of the fire, while Sari sat on a rug by her feet, enjoying the heat that spread out from the flames. Her demon sat away from them, on the table in the centre of the room.

  ‘What’s your story, young Sari?’ the old woman asked, her voice not unkind. ‘You have walked a long way from the university, into the jungle.’

  It was an obvious question to ask, and not one that Sari could easily lie about. There was no legitimate sounding excuse she could give.

  ‘I have had enough of it,’ said Sari.

  ‘Enough of what?’ asked Mustika, looking at her shrewdly. ‘Your studies? The people?’

  ‘Enough of everything,’ Sari replied, and found that tears were in her eyes, and the more she tried to blink them away, the more they came.

  ‘So you walked into the jungle. Why?’

  ‘To end it. I meant to not go back. But I happened upon your cottage—’

  ‘And just as well that you did, child. Now. Tell me what precisely led you upon such a course. And no hiding the truth or giving me part of the story, either.’

  ‘Don’t tell her anything!’ warned her demon.

  Sari had kept her feelings to herself for so long now, it didn’t feel possible to tell someone else. But she was so tired of it, and she really didn’t see what else she could say to the woman, except to sit in insolent silence.

  ‘I am alone. Frightened of everything. And I have a demon—’

  ‘What of it?’

  ‘My demon controls me.’

  Sari hadn’t even thought of it like that, until she said it out loud.

  ‘What techniques do you use to shut him out?’

  ‘What?’ asked Sari, not understanding the question.

  Mustika studied her shrewdly. ‘How old were you when they brought you here?’

  ‘Nine.’

  ‘Nine,’ repeated Mustika, sounding angry. ‘Too young. And did the university talk to you about demons? Who did you talk to when it came?’

  ‘I—’

  Sari thought about it. It was strange. She couldn’t remember when her demon had appeared. She knew that he wasn’t there when she was younger. But she couldn’t remember his arrival, either. There didn’t seem to be one day when he wasn’t there, then one day when he was. Her mind felt foggy just trying to think about it.

  Mustika was looking at her, an intense expression on her face. Sari remembered her question.

  ‘No. I haven’t spoken with anyone about it.’

  ‘Fools!’ Mustika exploded without warning. ‘Taking youngsters away from their homes too young and leaving them to their own devices!’

  She paused, eyeing Sari.

  ‘Do you understand, girl, that we all have a demon? When we begin to pass from childhood to adulthood, they attach themselves to us. None of us are spared.’

  Sari frowned at the woman. What trick was this?

  Mustika sighed. ‘You won’t believe me, will you?’ she asked, but the way she said it made it sound like she was talking more to herself than to Sari.

  Even so, Sari shook her head slightly. Everyone had a demon? How could she believe that? Her parents didn’t have them, nor her teachers, nor her classmates. If everyone had one, how had no-one ever spoken of them?

  ‘You think I don’t have a horrific demon living with me here in this cottage, all by myself day after day? Look at me, child. Imagine what I look like when I undress for bed, what cruel things a demon could say to me! Look at you, with your angelic face! And don’t think I didn’t get a look at your pert bottom as
you left to fetch water both times! Think how I must feel in your company, with my saggy flesh in all the wrong places.’

  Sari’s jaw dropped in shock at the comment. She was ugly. Wasn’t she? Her demon always said so. But her mother used to say she was pretty, and now this woman was saying it as well.

  ‘Do you know what I am, Sari?’ Mustika asked, a different tone to her voice now.

  How am I supposed to answer that? Sari wondered. But the woman fixed her with her deep eyes, waiting for a response.

  Sari took in a shallow breath. ‘A witch,’ she said, her voice quivering.

  Mustika smiled at that. ‘A loaded term, but I don’t deny it. There is something I can do that might help you. That is, I think it will help. It could make things worse. Since we are at this point, with you wandering into the jungle like you have done, I judge it is worth a try.’

  ‘What is it?’ asked Sari. Despite part of her warning herself not to get her hopes up, another part of her couldn’t help it. Could this witch kill her demon? But if she had such powers, she would surely have killed her own.

  ‘Although you don’t believe me, everyone carries a demon with them. We can’t normally see other people’s, just our own. But I can make it so that you can see other demons. It would only be for a day—it certainly wouldn’t do anyone any good to see demons everywhere, all the time. But I think it might help you to understand them if you could see others. I offer you this, for free. No wicked deals involved, where you must give me your soul or firstborn in exchange for the spell. But it is up to you, Sari. You must decide whether you want to do it, or not.’

  Sari thought about it. One demon was bad enough. But she couldn’t help her curiosity. What if Mustika was telling the truth, and everyone had a demon? Sari felt like she had to know.

  * * *

  Mustika added some ingredients to Sari’s bowl of stew, muttering strange words that sounded like they were from a different language. By the time it was prepared, Sari was so hungry that she didn’t think twice about wolfing it all down. The mushrooms and vegetables were tender and tasty, and Mustika gave her a slice of hard black bread which she used to mop up the last of the broth.

  Mustika gave her a look. ‘It should start to work soon.’

  The witch glanced over at the table, where Sari’s demon had been silently perched for some time. Sari could just detect a shimmery form, sitting on the table next to her own demon. The more she looked, the more it took shape. It was much larger than Sari’s and resembled a female human form. Its arms and legs were long, thin and malformed, the bones set at awkward angles. The head was large and elongated, with a heavy-set brow and large mouth showing yellowed, razor-sharp teeth. She had to admit, it was more terrifying to look on than her own, though perhaps that was because she had not had time to get used to its appearance. To suddenly see a second demon in the room was shocking, especially if it had been there all along, invisible to her eyes yet watching her nonetheless.

  ‘You see it, don’t you?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘So your journey begins. Even if this doesn’t wholly convince you, you must start to entertain the notion that everyone else has a demon too.’

  ‘What do you expect to get from this?’ Mustika’s demon said to the witch. Its voice was harsh and shrill, full of derision and hostility. ‘You think the girl will be so grateful she will climb into bed with you tonight? You think she will want to touch your decrepit body?’

  Mustika’s demon cackled with amusement, and Sari’s joined in with his own demonic laughter.

  Sari turned to Mustika with alarm. Was that really the price that the witch expected to extract?

  ‘You see?’ said Mustika, seemingly unruffled by the words. ‘Our demons know just what words are the most humiliating or hurtful to us. That’s because they have access to our own minds. They access our own most negative thoughts and emotions, and throw them back at us.’

  Sari nodded, somewhat reassured that the witch wasn’t expecting anything in return for the spell. Mustika’s demon, knowing that it had the attention of them both, had said the most embarrassing thing possible.

  ‘Good,’ Mustika continued. ‘It would be lovely, wouldn’t it, to be rid of our demons forever? But life is too precious to waste it wishing and waiting for things that will never happen. Unfortunately, they will stay with us until the day we die. The trick is to learn to live with them. Despite them. My hope is that if you see that other people can do that, you will realise that you have the strength to do it too.’

  Sari understood that Mustika was attempting to teach her an important lesson. Maybe it was a lesson her mother would have taught her, had Sari been allowed to stay with her family. But she worried that she couldn’t learn it. She worried that she simply wasn’t as strong as everyone else.

  * * *

  Sari was woken up by Mustika early the next day. After a breakfast they left the cottage, morning sunshine greeting them. They used the cool stream to wash and wake themselves up. Then the old woman led her back through the jungle in the direction of the university. The demons followed behind in sullen silence.

  If Sari had tried to return by herself she would have got hopelessly lost, and yet it turned out that she hadn’t gone so very far from the path to get to Mustika’s cottage. Suddenly it was upon them, and Mustika was saying goodbye and good luck, in a gruff voice.

  Sari leaned in and the old woman took her in an awkward embrace, patting the top of Sari’s head. Sari turned away and took the path back. She had a lesson to get to.

  She emerged from the trees onto the university estate. Students and teachers would be leaving their huts and heading out in all directions for their first lesson of the day. It was strange to think she had spent the night in the jungle, when everyone else here had woken up in their usual beds.

  A group of younger children crossed Sari’s path ahead of her. Her heart gave a lurch when she looked at them. None of them had a demon. Had the witch played a trick on her? Then she remembered. Mustika had said that demons only attach themselves when you get older. These youngsters were free. For now.

  Sari approached the training grounds. This was the moment when she would see if the woman’s words had been true or not. She walked to the fencing and looked over.

  A group of boys were running a circuit of the training yard. She could see Bakti in the middle of the pack, a look of determination on his face. And she could see, floating next to each boy, a demon.

  She peered at the spectacle, barely believing her eyes. She could hear the taunts of the demons, though she could not quite make out the words. The noise got louder, as the boys circled around the edge of the yard and came running towards her position. A horrific medley of insults assailed her as they went past.

  ‘You’re slower than last time.’

  ‘You’re weak. You were born weak and you’ll always be weak.’

  ‘You’ll never be a warrior like your father was. You shouldn’t be here.’

  ‘I said you hadn’t trained enough. You’re lazy.’

  ‘Everyone will laugh at you again.’

  Then the boys were past her, continuing with their circuits, all of them with demons filling their minds with negative thoughts.

  Sari staggered away from the fence, her eyes filling with tears.

  She didn’t know what to think about what she had just seen. But she knew she had to get to her lesson, or she would be late.

  * * *

  ‘You bore,’ the schoolmaster’s demon said. ‘These girls think you are a fool.’

  It hung upside down from the ceiling, making unpleasant faces and noises in an effort to distract him. Sari found it hard to avoid looking at the creature, but she didn’t want her teacher to know she could see it. He talked over his demon, explaining the ingredients needed to prepare a cetek, how to treat them, and how to deliver them into your enemy’s food. It made Sari think of Mustika, with all her herbs and spices. Was it possible that she had once studied at this
university? It was an intriguing thought.

  ‘Who cares about this nonsense you are making them learn? Do something useful with your life, you coward,’ her teacher’s demon scolded him.

  Sari found that she admired her schoolmaster’s perseverance, his ability to ignore the constant criticism and focus on his students. When the lesson was done, he spun around and left the room, his demon dropping down and flying after him, informing him how terrible the lesson had been.

  ‘You’ll forget all that by morning,’ said one of the girl’s demons. ‘You don’t have the brains for it.’

  ‘You wouldn’t have the guts to use a cetek spell,’ Kemala’s demon declared. It was a black lizard that walked on two legs like a man, its long red tongue flickering in and out of its mouth as it spoke. ‘You get scared coming to lessons every day.’

  Sari couldn’t quite believe that the confident looking girls in her class had demons too, that said much the same things as her own.

  In her surprise, an involuntary sound left her mouth.

  ‘Oh!’

  The three girls turned around to look at her.

  ‘There’s that girl, Sari, who knows how pitiful and shallow you are,’ said one of the demons.

  ‘They’re all staring at you,’ said Sari’s demon into the silence, sounding panic-stricken. ‘Please shut up, you’re going to embarrass yourself.’

  Sari swallowed. ‘Sorry,’ she said. ‘I’m just—I’m having a hard time with my demon right now.’

  ‘Oh, tell me about it,’ said Kemala.

  The girl walked around the desks to Sari, who stood petrified. Kemala linked arms with her.

  ‘Mine is being a complete and utter bastard at the moment.’

  The other two girls laughed out loud at this, and Sari found herself grinning.

  ‘Come with us,’ Kemala continued. ‘We all need cheering up.’

  She led Sari back to the other girls, and they all made for the exit to the classroom together.

  ‘Yes,’ agreed one of the girls. ‘I’d like to go see Bakti at the training yard. That always cheers me up!’