Demon Demon Burning Bright, Whisperings book four

by Linda Welch

  We were still in what could be a commercial district. Various buildings sported signs of carved wood, etched glass, metal, or neon with the peculiar characters. But after taking several turns, we segued into an area of what looked like small markets and apartments, then drove past rows of individual homes. They had front yards with lawns and flowers and architecture I recognized from back home. The air coming through the bus windows smelled fresher.

  Back home. A small thrill of dread worked down my spine, driven by the notion coming here was monumentally stupid.

  This was the Bel-Athaer I expected to see when I burst from the corridor.

  The bus drove along a rural lane flanked by vast meadows of long, fading grass, rolling hills, hedgerows, trees bunched together here and there. No houses; no construction of any style.

  The demons chattered. From the lilting cadence of their voices, they were excited. Why did they head to the High House? Did they work there?

  Then I caught a few words.

  I moved to stand next the seat in front of me. “Excuse me, what did you say?”

  A small, waif-like woman with a pixie face and huge turquoise eyes pushed her teal hair behind her ear and smiled up at me. She lifted the paper she held in her hand. Rolled into a tube, I couldn’t see what was on it except some squiggles similar to those on their autos and signs. “We are discussing the High Lord’s grand tour. Eleven days away now. The last grand tour, in his grandsire’s time, was before my birth. All will see him, young and old. All may approach and speak with him.” She cocked her head on one side. “We live in exciting times.”

  I smiled, nodded and moved away.

  Lawrence would meet his people, which meant his full power was upon him. Last I knew, he was still secluded in the High House and only his councilors and personal staff knew he lived there. That my fellow passengers knew of him indicated he had been publicly presented to his people.

  The bus decelerated, then came to a shuddering stop. I followed the person in front of me. The seated passengers politely waited till we exited, then trailed behind us. The driver tooted his horn and away went the bus.

  I didn’t see the High House and it is hard to miss. The demons already moved along a wide lane walled by low, unruly hedges. Trees drooped over with branches like reaching hands. The path was sunken hard-packed dirt, as if thousands of feet had worn it down to below the level of the bank. I started along, enveloped by a musky smell I associate with fungus and damp forest mulch, yet the ground was bone-dry and foliage wilted. Dust powdered my boots and the hem of my jeans.

  The pink-haired punk demon fell in beside me. We walked in our own space, the other demons no closer than ten feet ahead and ten feet behind.

  “Why do they keep their distance?”

  He smiled. “They are well-mannered.”

  “And you’re not?”

  His smile widened into a grin. “I am curious, and I can tell my friends I walked at your side.”

  A dozen questions milled in my head, but I didn’t ask them. I dare not say anything to make the demons wonder why I was here.

  The temperature climbed. My feet felt hot and sweaty in my heavy winter boots. I wanted to take my coat off, but doing so would reveal my gun. The Gelpha would not take kindly to an armed human approaching their High Lord.

  Tiny, pleasurable gasps came from the demons ahead. I stopped walking, but saw nothing alarming. The punk boy and the demons behind us also stopped moving.

  I started off again, and the boy made a pleased sound which was echoed seconds later by the demons behind me.

  “What’s happening? Are you in pain, are they?”

  His head snapped up. “Pain? The opposite, Lady. This close, we feel the High Lord’s aura, his power. This is why we came. And perhaps Lord Lawrence will make an appearance.”

  Royal said the Gelpha would feel Lawrence’s presence when he came to full power.

  “I see.” I asked my companion, “How do you feel his … power?”

  His brows came together quizzically. “You don’t know?”

  Oops. “I mean, how does it feel to you. It’s different for me.” He knew nothing about humans if he thought we could sense the High Lord.

  “Ah.” He faced ahead and drew in a deep breath of air, held his arms out expansively. “Here, so close … it is as if his presence clings to me.” He dropped his arms and smiled shyly. “Really, I cannot describe it except to say it is the most delightful of sensations. It tells me that at this moment, the High Lord welcomes me.”

  “At this moment,” I mused. “What if he didn’t welcome you?”

  His tone went flat. “I hope never to experience that.”

  The path curved to the right. I saw white through the trees. “Is that the High House?”

  He nodded. “But it is still some distance.”

  I groaned. “I don’t know whether I’ll make it.” I felt as if I baked inside my coat. I turned my face up to the washed-out, sunless blue sky seen between the tree branches. Where did the dratted heat come from? “I bet a cab service would make a fortune out here.”

  “All men approach the High House on foot. No exceptions.”

  “Boy, thanks for that. You made my day.”

  Two memories came to me. The first time Royal brought me to the High House, when I asked why we couldn’t beam in there - I meant flash in using demon speed - Royal told me nobody beamed into the High House. Then, when we came here to warn Lawrence and the Council about Dagka Shan, Royal said - and I will never forget this - “You remember when you asked why we can’t beam into the High House? Somebody just did.”

  Shan ignored the prohibition against Cousins in Bel-Athaer. He was in the High House. After arguing with the councilors, Royal, I, and several demon teams went after the Cousin. We found him. He killed some and critically wounded others in our team, including Royal. I got off lightly with a few cracked ribs.

  The young demon’s chuckle brought me back to the present.

  So damn hot! My thick sweater clung to my back. Could I remove my coat and shoulder holster at the same time without anyone seeing my Ruger?

  Then I recognized the scenery. Over on my right - surely Royal and I raced over that grass and past that copse when we came to the High House with Gia and Daven, again when we came to warn the Council of Dagka Shan?

  “I’m taking a shortcut. Nice meeting you.”

  He frowned as he followed my gaze, then shrugged. “It is your prerogative, Lady. Well-wishes to you.”

  He looked like a punk but sure sounded formal.

  I twitched my lips and put on speed to reach a break in the hedge before him. I had to turn sideways to squeeze through and spiky twigs caught at my coat, but I made it without snagging the fabric.

  I congratulated myself on getting this far despite feeling as if someone slapped me on a hibachi. I didn’t have to explain my presence. People here treated me as a novelty, but were gracious. I hoped leaving would be as uncomplicated.

  I increased my pace across an expanse of wild grass to a low mound which stretched from the hedge to the beginning of a forest. More mounds ran in waves nearly up to the High House. I saw the portico through which Royal and I entered the House, but the rest of the building showed as white patches through the trees which fronted the length.

  I climbed the mound feeling unlike myself. I’m a mountain girl, I hike twice a week in warm weather, I’m familiar with rough, steep terrain and high altitude. Now my face burned and I breathed heavily. I felt like a wimp.

  So I held my head high, strode down the mound, over the grass, up the next mound and over the top. See, Tiff Banks is no wuss, a little heat doesn’t bother her.

  And fell over a body.

  I landed on hands and knees, but shock made me tumble on my butt. Bodies around me, lying singly, in pairs, in groups of three to six. They lay on their backs or stomachs, or curled on their sides. Except for small spaces between them, a blanket of people obscured the grass, they were that close to one
another.

  Just as I decided there had been a massacre outside the High House, the body I tripped over growled at me.

  Other bodies lifted their definitely living heads. I had not barged into a crime scene; they relaxed as they waited for Lawrence to make an appearance.

  I rose on my knees, sure my face was bright red from more than the heat. “I’m sorry. I didn’t see you there.”

  As I scrambled upright, the demon tossed long, brilliant red hair from his eyes and snarled, “What have you got on your feet, rocks?”

  But his anger vanished as he looked up at me. In fact, he seemed appalled. “I do beg your pardon, Lady. I’m sure you trampled me accidentally.”

  I exaggerated a wince. “So sorry.”

  There didn’t seem to be anything else to say, so I continued to the High House, carefully avoiding people. None moved, but they watched me with their glittering eyes.

  I stepped from the grass to the dirt path. Phew.

  Now what? Guess I should boldly go where no idiot has been before. Except I had been here before, and I was an idiot. How stupid can you be, marching into a foreign dimension inhabited by men and women who are faster, stronger and more conniving than you. I bet a Gelpha child could take me down with no problem.

  I went up the two shallow steps, gratified to see the door hung open so I didn’t have to knock and wait as a petitioner.

  Inside, demons packed the great hall wall to wall, all eyeing me. From their dress, these were the nobles of Lawrence’s court. The gems on their clothing, their wrists, ankles, fingers and adorning their hair added glitter to match their eyes and metallic hair.

  I shrank inside. All those eyes on me. They didn’t blink. Faces expressionless, the demons didn’t move a muscle; so still, they could be images painted on the air.

  An arched opening directly across from the entrance led to hallways and small vestibules and eventually to the outside. I didn’t know where the other archway at the bottom of the staircase went. The pale, gleaming walls stretched to the next floor. No couches or chairs for visitors to rest their weary bones on, no elegant tables or accent pieces. The hall was a formal waiting room bathed in light from tall windows along the left wall.

  A woman peeled from the others and glided over the polished floor. She stopped in front of me and did a little dip, a kind of curtsy. With her arms held out from her sides, her sleeves hung from wrists to floor, the ends pooling with her bright-yellow gown where it bunched on the pale tile. Her straight black hair swung over her cheek as she lowered her head. Black eyes glinted below sable lashes.

  “How may I help you, Lady?” she asked in low, musical tones.

  I spoke through the lump lodged in my throat. “I’m here to see the High Lord.”

  She smoothly rose, head still down. “He is engaged with his Council. If you would care to - ”

  “Great. I know the way.” I started toward the throng. Oh shit please let me pass! I couldn’t barrel through a horde of demons who refused to move.

  They moved aside, opening a jagged path which meandered across the hall to one of the staircases which wind up the walls to the next floor.

  I went up the stairs. I’d never liked these stairs. Imagine what looks like an inch-thick coat of perfectly lucent wax over marble; they look as if arcane magic holds water in place over them. I put my palm flat to the wall, but didn’t feel secure. At the top, in the gallery, I leaned over the carved wood railing to see demon faces staring up at me. I turned my back on them and strode down the long hall to the Council Chamber. The bulk of my Ruger clung to my ribs, making me feel I wasn’t completely helpless.

  I stopped at the closed double doors to draw a breath deep through my nose into my lungs before I slapped my hands on the wood panels and pushed.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  I stood in the Council Chamber with its silken chocolate walls which seemed to ripple if I moved my head. The dripping chandelier cast a mellow golden swath over the demon councilors who regarded me with hooded eyes. Lawrence sat in a throne-like chair on the dais at the back of the circular room. He was taller than I remembered and his glossy chestnut hair now bore a metallic sheen. His eyes were dark, gleaming bronze. His features were sharper, too, with a high, proud nose and swooping brows. How old was he now? Eight? He looked all of twelve.

  I didn’t recognize all the councilors. The guy with black hair whose gently mounding stomach fascinated me last time was absent; also Darja, she of the aging face, young woman’s body and fading salmon hair. I didn’t remember the others well, but enough to know they were not here. Only two of the original councilors remained: Gareth, and the white-gray haired woman. Six male Gelpha were new to me.

  The half-circular table was gone. The councilors no longer faced Lawrence, they sat in two straight lines running diagonally from the dais, their high-backed wingchairs positioned so they could see most the room by turning their heads. Each chair had a small table beside it, on which I saw long-stemmed glasses and small dishes. The Council had gone casual.

  The arrangement bothered me. They should be facing Lawrence, not sitting with their shoulders to him.

  “Miss Banks,” Lawrence said, voice deeper than last time we spoke, “how nice to see you.”

  The expression in his eyes did not match the rising lilt of his words, but I couldn’t read the steady gaze he laid on me.

  “To what do we owe this pleasure,” Gareth asked.

  “I’m looking for Royal.”

  Gareth lifted his glass from the table and regarded the lilac liquid as his brows met in a perplexed frown. “Ryel is not here. Did he say he would be?”

  Clenching my hands to fists, I shifted uncomfortably on my feet. “I haven’t seen him nor spoken to him in days. He up and … disappeared.”

  A demon with glinting gold eyes and helmet of burnished pewter hair lopped off at his ears shifted in his chair. “He could be anywhere. Why come to us?”

  Tension made my stomach ball up. “You can sense him, can’t you? You can find him if he’s in Bel-Athaer. If he’s not here, I’ll know to narrow my search to my world.” Yeah, as if finding Royal when he could be anywhere on Earth would be a breeze, but easier than searching two worlds, if I could take Bel-Athaer out of the equation.

  His lips ticked as if he found me entertaining. “We can detect individuals among the comparatively few in your world, but here, among millions of our people?” He casually rubbed one finger back and forth over the chair arm’s brocade upholstery. “I believe you have an idiom … a needle in a haystack?”

  “But you’d know whether he were in the High House, right?” I said, hearing the desperate note in my voice.

  “He’s not here,” Lawrence said, watching me with a guarded expression.

  I breathed in deeply through my nose, willing my heart to stop thudding erratically. Don’t panic, Tiff, you know more than you did five minutes ago. And, you’re fine, they won’t hurt you.

  Time had passed since I pitted my wits against demons. Now, in their stronghold without Royal’s protection, I knew how deeply I feared them. They could do anything to me, and nobody back home would know. I could disappear without a trace; my Xterra, parked on the street in Clarion a clue which would lead the police nowhere.

  Sweat dampened my scalp and drizzled down my spine.

  “You were brave to venture here,” the woman said.

  I lifted my chin, summoned bravado. “You think so?”

  “A lone, helpless female… ,” she mocked, her gaze washing over me as she let a disdainful breath sigh out.

  Only one thing to do when faced with super-beings who can beat you to a pulp and not break a sweat. Get pissy.

  I answered her sneer for sneer. “You’re making a grave mistake if you believe I’m helpless. It’d take more than you to bring me down.”

  “Indeed?” She snuffed through her nose.

  “Yeah, indeed.” I smiled unpleasantly and moved my hand to my hip, which brought it nearer my Ruger. “Don’t
believe me? Get your bony ass up out that chair and - ”

  Gareth’s voice barked out. “Miss Banks! Imeld!” He moved to stand between us. “This is unseemly.”

  I swung on him. “You people sure have short memories. Who found Lawrence and sent him to you? Who shot Dagka Shan? And - ”

  A hiss of distress interrupted me as a councilor flinched.

  “Yeah, Dagka Shan, one of those Dark Cousins you don’t like talking about,” I continued relentlessly. I’m damn sure I prevented Shan wreaking murder and mayhem on the Gelpha, and I may well have saved the High Lord’s life. My voice dropped to an undertone. “You owe me.”

  “Miss Banks, it is not that we refuse to help you, we cannot tell you what we do not know,” Gareth said.

  “Yes, regretfully we cannot point you in Ryel’s direction,” a demon with long, waving lemon hair said testily. He flapped his hand at the door. “Gareth will take you back to the Way.”

  I squinched my eyes. “The what?”

  “The Way. The road which links our plane and yours.”

  “The ways between worlds, huh? How original,” I murmured.

  I expected more from the Council. I thought they would probe me about Royal’s disappearance, how long he’d been gone, why I felt the need to come to Bel-Athaer to find him. It seemed to me they more than took my announcement in stride. They were altogether too calm, indifferent. They didn’t ask the right questions. They barely asked anything.

  I could almost smell the stench of deceit. As I stood before the councilors, I imagined it as a fog filming my limbs.

  Gareth hurried forward, lips scrunched sourly, hand outstretched as if to take my arm, but I wasn’t through yet. My eyes flicked to Lawrence. I saved your life, twice!

  The councilors watched me so did not see Lawrence make eye contact and shake his head as if he desperately tried to convey a message with his narrowed, glowing bronze eyes. My senses quivered, a butterfly flit in my stomach. I was ready to push the councilors, shove my questions down their throats till they vomited out answers, until Lawrence gave me that warning look.