by Joe Jackson
Raised voices drew Kari’s attention to the elder’s teepee, but it didn’t sound like a fight so much as very powerful speakers engaged in debate. She glanced at Sonja and Danilynn to see if they could make out any of what was being said. “They’re speaking that other language again, but I can feel fear,” Sonja said. “They’re not afraid of us, but they’re afraid of us being here, it seems. If I could get closer, I might be able to actually hear what some of them are thinking, but I don’t think that would be polite or well received.”
“Quite right,” came the oddly-accented voice of a female mallasti. The accent was a bit like Emma’s, but it spoke more of a lack of consistent practice than a regional dialect. “You will find that my people are open and forthright, if you but ask what is on your mind. If you seek to steal our thoughts, what little tolerance and trust you have found will be lost.”
Kari rose to her feet as the mallasti female stepped before her. The girl had that same reddish-brown coat with black highlights as seemed common among her people. Her eyes were that golden-yellow color, and she stared at Kari intensely rather than with the impassiveness that marked most of her people. Like the other females Kari had seen, this mallasti wore no clothing, but other than the curve of her hips and the protrusion of her breasts, her furry coat was heavy in all the right places to hide her gender-specific features. Kari held out her hand and started to introduce herself, but the girl interrupted her.
“You are Karian Vanador, a Hand of Zalkar,” she said, making no move to shake Kari’s hand. “Yes, I know. You have been the subject of much debate and discussion since our king brought you to our village. I am called Uldriana; who are your companions?”
Kari introduced Sonja and Danilynn, and the young mallasti woman took each of them under her scrutiny in turn. She seemed to find Sonja the more interesting of the two, holding Kari’s sister-in-law under that intense gaze for several long minutes. Kari assumed Uldriana could sense the divine and arcane power in her two friends, though what it meant to the mallasti girl, Kari wasn’t sure. Ultimately, Uldriana turned her attention back to Kari without saying a word to either of her companions.
Uldriana said, after a delay, “Your presence has already spread alarm through our village. Were it not for the orders of the king, you would have been sent away, or perhaps worse.”
“Has your king told you what we intend to do with Sekassus?” Kari asked.
The impassive gaze of the mallasti gave way to one of disbelief before she spoke again in quiet tones. “You would do well not to refer to any of the kings so casually,” she warned. “If you call King Sekassus by his proper name without his proper title while in his presence, it will most likely be the last thing you say.” Kari nodded apologetically; she did need to stop making that mistake, whether on purpose or not. The mallasti girl made no gesture of approval in return. “I am aware of your intent; as I am one of the few members of our village who can speak your tongue, I am likely to be the one sent along as your guide.”
That got everyone’s attention more fully, but before Kari could ask anything, Sonja cut in to ask, “Are you a practitioner of the arcane?”
Uldriana regarded the scarlet-haired woman with an odd expression, and Kari guessed she probably had to translate everything that was said to her. From the sound of her voice and the fact that rir were very rare on Mehr’Durillia, Kari assumed Uldriana had very little time or opportunity to practice speaking the Citarian trade tongue. “Virtually all of my people are,” she said. “You hope to ask me to teach you, perhaps?”
“If we’re going to be traveling together,” Sonja agreed hopefully. “I’m quite familiar with the arcane arts, but I have trouble with it at times, and thought maybe someone with such an innate grasp of it might be able to help me figure out why.”
“I will ask if that is acceptable to my elders,” Uldriana answered. “Remain here; I will go and ask, and see what else is being discussed that you have been tempted to eavesdrop upon.”
The young mallasti woman went to and entered the tent where the meeting was taking place. Kari looked to her two companions. She felt like they’d said something wrong or perhaps just too much of the right thing, but Sonja and Danilynn didn’t say anything. Sonja kept looking at the tent, and Kari assumed she was still tempted to go try to pick up surface thoughts. It made Kari wonder if Sonja could even do so, given that the mallasti spoke in a different tongue; could her sister-in-law read the thoughts of those who thought in a different language?
Danilynn was looking at the tent too, but once Uldriana disappeared inside, the priestess turned to Kari. “With King Morduri having demanded a service from you, I have to wonder if they’re discussing what you’ll owe this village for whatever it is they’re going to give up,” she said. “Did he give you no indication of what he’d want?”
“Nothing specific, other than to promise me it wouldn’t be anything against my nature, and that it would be for his people, and not just him,” Kari said. “Amastri said my payment to King Koursturaux would cover any bargains made with other kings, but that’s not the case, and I don’t know if King Morduri is going to regret going against her word. As far as I’m concerned, though, I’m going to give her what I agreed to give her, and let her figure out the rest.”
“One thing I can tell you,” Sonja said, turning her attention away from the elder’s tent, “is that when I have heard people mention King Koursturaux, they speak of her in terms of fear. But when these folk speak of or to King Morduri, it’s in terms of respect. Most people are afraid of King Koursturaux, but though I can’t make out what’s being said, they seem content to serve King Morduri. There is a stark difference here; when anyone spoke of King Koursturaux – I could almost taste their fear. Not so with King Morduri.”
“Eli talked about her a little,” Kari said. “He seemed hesitant to really go into much detail about her, outside of the way she looked and the fact that she was terrifying.”
“Not even just terrifying,” Danilynn added. “I just remember...when those black eyes look at you, it’s like…like time stops around you. It’s hard to describe, but being in the presence of something so ancient, so powerful, and so malevolent, you feel as though your heart is going to stop and your blood is going to freeze. Like all hope leaves you, and the prospect of even fighting back is an impossibility.”
Kari sighed quietly, wondering if the same would hold true when they stood before King Sekassus. Kari wanted to negotiate from a position of strength or at least on even terms, but the prospect of being frozen in terrified awe was not something she wanted to go through. She knew Koursturaux was of higher station than Sekassus on the Council, and she had to wonder just how much more powerful the female demon king was than Kari’s enemy. If Kari could stand strong in the presence of King Sekassus, it might cause the demon king to lose face with his subjects and his peers alike, and that might make King Koursturaux more likely to help Kari and her friends in the future, at least when Sekassus was involved.
The demonhunter turned her attention to the tent. The voices within were quieter now, but there was still an urgency in those foreign words that Kari didn’t have to be fluent to pick up on. She thought on Sonja’s words and realized that with the underworld being in a “subtle” state of war at probably all times, the subjects of one king being embroiled in schemes involving another was probably something they despised. Even if ordered directly by King Morduri, the people would ultimately be the ones who paid the price if the Crimson Huntress’ plan angered Sekassus or one of the other kings. That was generally how war worked, even where Kari was from: the nobility declared it, the commoners paid for it.
A mallasti male emerged from one of the other tents as the light began to fail, and he said something in that dialect that none of the rir women understood. He gestured toward the fire pit, but then he waved off his own words and approached. With a gesture, he sent a brief jet of blue flame into the remains of the prior night’s pile of wood, and the fuel that had no
t been consumed quickly caught fire. The mallasti nodded curtly to the women and then made his way back to his teepee, from which his mate watched the exchange with that impassive expression. Both of them disappeared inside without another word.
Kari was thankful for the source of light and warmth. The evening turned cool up on the hillside, but with a decent fire going, the night air was kept at bay. “Did you see that?” Sonja asked incredulously. “He just…he just did that with a gesture! How do these people have such a grasp on the arcane?”
“It’s in their blood,” Kari said. Sonja was insecure enough about her arcane prowess; to see the mallasti use it so casually surely wasn’t going to help. “That was one of the things I learned when I was hunting Turillia down in Barcon. The mallasti have arcane power in their very blood. I gather it doesn’t take them much to learn to use it, whereas someone like you, or me, or even Master Maelstrom takes years or decades to learn it.”
Sonja twisted her draconic lips to the side for a moment, apparently not exactly pleased with that answer. “True enough,” she said in contradiction to her expression. “Maelstrom has told me a number of times that he didn’t master the arcane until his seventh decade. He seems to find it amusing, in a sense, that I expect to have it mastered before thirty, or to be able to do the things he does when he’s at least two hundred years older than I am.”
“Nobody graduates from the Academy as an Avatar of Vengeance,” Kari said, one of the jokes that cadets often told to keep their feet grounded. The most “dangerous” demonhunters were not the Avatars of Vengeance, the Fists of Retribution, or the Hands of Zalkar; it was the rookies, the first- and second-year initiates that were swollen with newly-learned knowledge but none of the wisdom that came with years of experience. That was why the Order had its new graduates work as local law enforcement for a time before they were sent out to actually begin hunting their enemies.
“It’s not even that,” Sonja said with a sigh. “Master Maelstrom says I’m doing things the right way, but for whatever reason, the powers just aren’t responding correctly. You’ve seen it before, Kari: I have no problem conjuring shields and using things like masking spells to keep us hidden when traveling. Occasionally I can even call down or discharge lightning, but I’m so afraid it won’t work in combat that I haven’t tried it in the heat of battle. But the other portions of the arcane…transport, conjurations, summoning, transmutations…none of them work. It’s like I’m cut off from those arcane sciences for whatever reason.”
“But then Maelstrom just tells you to be patient, right?” Kari guessed.
Sonja nodded, and she turned her attention to Danilynn. “Did you ever have problems calling upon your deity’s power?”
The fures-rir priestess shook her head. “Divine spell-casting is a completely different thing,” she said. “I don’t cast spells the way you do; I simply channel my deity’s power through myself. It acts like a spell, but if you did the same gestures and called upon the same influences I did, nothing would happen. You’re not a conduit for Garra Ktarra’s power, or anyone else’s, as far as I know. What you manipulate as a wizard is a natural power that I believe was put here by the gods, but it is not in the possession of the gods, if that makes any sense.”
Sonja nodded as though it did, but Kari had a hard time following it. When she needed to call upon Zalkar’s power to heal wounds after battle, she just did so; she didn’t go through prayer or meditation or make any gestures or chant. She wondered if her divine power was different from Danilynn’s or Grakin’s. Kari had never even thought about trying to learn the arcane: she had a poor education growing up, and many people thought she was fairly stupid based on her limited vocabulary. Living among the well-educated Tesconis family was changing that, but Kari still felt no inclination to try to learn arcane magic.
Her attention and that of Sonja and Danilynn was drawn to the tent of the elder when Uldriana reemerged. The mallasti girl came and stood before Kari and her two companions, but she didn’t say anything for a couple of minutes. She stared at the trio with that expressionless gaze, finally asking, “Would you prefer to sleep out here under the stars? Otherwise, you may take your rest among my family in our home.”
Kari looked to her friends, wondering which option would be considered less rude by the mallasti. “Is it going to bother your family if we sleep among them?” she asked.
“We have extended the invitation to please the king and our elders, with whom we will speak come the morning,” Uldriana answered. “I must warn you, however: our families share these tents for a few generations, so it will be a bit crowded within. Try to keep your eyes and your thoughts to yourselves, and get some sleep.”
“All right, thank you,” Kari said as she rose to her feet. Uldriana turned back and fixed her with a withering gaze, but it lasted only a few moments before the impassive expression returned to her face. She said and did nothing in acknowledgement of Kari’s thanks, and the demonhunter wondered if it had simply been foolish to thank a demon. Sonja and Danilynn both seemed put on guard by the sudden viciousness of the mallasti girl’s expression, but they stayed silent and followed Uldriana to her home.
Chapter XI – Lessons Learned
The night in Uldriana’s home was physically comfortable, but quite unnerving. Kari and her friends were unable to sleep near each other, and despite Kari’s attempts to reassure herself that the mallasti wouldn’t do anything against their king’s wishes, she didn’t enjoyed the night of sleep amongst them, separated from her friends. She’d expected to bed down near Uldriana, but instead she was put near the outer wall of the tent, with what she assumed was a middle-aged mallasti couple beside her. They seemed to take interest in Kari, but they never spoke to her, though whether because of the language barrier or not, she wasn’t sure.
Kari woke shortly before dawn and tiptoed her way out of the mallasti tent, mindful of stepping on anyone. The rest of the village was still asleep; only a couple of sentries stood on a nearby hilltop or near the north end of the village to keep watch over things. At almost the same time Kari exited the tent, she saw King Morduri emerge from the elder’s home. The demon king already had his sword and his bow across his back, and he seemed amused to see anyone else up at the same time as himself. He nodded toward the hill to the north and walked off, so Kari followed in his wake.
He led her to an area the mallasti used as a privy, then they got fresh drinks and washed their faces in the nearby lake. Kari started to head back to the village once they were finished, but Morduri lagged behind for a minute, so she stopped to see what he was doing.
“I will not be returning to the village,” he said, and Kari’s hackles rose. “I have other places I need to visit, and these people know what I expect of them. Try to be courteous, no matter how they treat you in return, and you should be on your way by tomorrow.”
“Can I ask you something, honestly?” Kari said, and the demon king nodded after only a brief delay. “Do you think this is going to work?”
Morduri snorted. “That depends upon you, of course,” he said. “But as far as whether or not King Sekassus is going to agree to your terms? Yes, he will.”
“Do you think he’ll honor the Seven Days’ Grace law, though?” Kari asked. “King Celigus seemed to suggest he might not.”
The elestram king’s ears perked up at that, and he looked away to the west in thought. “I suppose that depends on how badly he wants to kill you,” he said. “Normally, a violation of the Seven Days’ Grace law would mean either summary execution, or the loss of one’s three eldest children. With you being from off-world, though, I suppose it would depend–”
“On how angry the Overking got that Salvation’s Dawn was killed or captured?” Kari interrupted, surprising the demon king again. “Tell me, Your Majesty, why you’re not interested in the fact that I’m Salvation’s Dawn.”
Morduri snorted and began to ascend the hill. “That’s a myth older than Koursturaux’ tits,” he spat, but then h
e looked at Kari quickly. “Eh, please don’t ever repeat that to her.”
Kari was stunned, but she managed a chuckle. “Somehow I don’t think that’s something I’d repeat, even to tell her someone else said it.”
“Hmph,” he muttered. “Anyway, from what I’ve heard over the years, it’s a running joke among the older kings: an excuse to send their servants out to die, looking for some mystical keys to a temple that will grant them divinity. You cannot become a deity; deity is something you either are or aren’t. Personally, I believe all of this Salvation’s Dawn and mystical temple nonsense is just a giant game to the Overking, something he uses to keep the rest of us too caught up in to try taking his crown from him.”
“But my peoples’ gods were once mortal,” Kari protested.
Morduri made a dismissive gesture. “And I would wager that they still are. They may have been called to a higher purpose and power, but if you ran them through with your swords, I think you would find they are still very far from being gods.” He met Kari’s gaze, but no words would come forth from her throat. “Then again, Kari, this is all just the ramblings of a king who is barely old enough to not be considered a whelp anymore.”
“But if what you’ve said is true...”
“We are all caught up in a deadly game,” he finished. “You consider me and my peers to be your enemies, but we are as much pawns to the Overking’s machinations as you and your people. To get back to your initial question, know that if King Sekassus attempts to capture or kill you after your meeting, he will have considered every possible ramification, and the odds of each coming to pass. Do not expect the fact that you are Salvation’s Dawn – whatever that truly means – to keep you safe. You will live by your wits and your wiles.”
