by Patti Larsen
“Did you hear a word I said?” Ram's anger finally showed up. “We have no way of knowing if the Guards who do come are planning to kill you.”
“Planning to try to kill me,” I said. “Big difference.” I had more firepower available to me than ever before, thanks to Ahbi. “I have to go back and talk to Dad. Not to mention the fact, this little breakout idea of yours has probably made me look guilty as hell.” I spun on Ahmose. “And don't for a second think I wasn't listening when you said you wanted to kill me.” I jabbed an index finger at him as he flinched and stepped behind Ram. “Watch it.”
Ram spun on one heel and shaded his eyes before a small smile broke over his face. “I know where we landed,” he said. “There's a settlement not far from here.” He turned back, smirking. “As long as Her Highness doesn't mind a little walking, we can reach shelter and hopefully another transport.”
“Won't they come looking for us?” Our crash had been rather spectacular, if I did say so myself.
“Not likely,” Ram said. “We were disguised until you blew out our systems. No one would think what fell was a transport.”
“If they were even watching,” Ahmose said, face pulled down into a glum frown.
“I could just reach for Dad right now.” Why hadn't I? Because I knew, deep down, Ram was right. Dad would want to send Guards for me. And even if they were loyal to my father, there was still this damned geas of Ahbi's to deal with. Remembering the pain from the cell, how the power drove me to leave, I knew if I tried to turn around, I'd be in big trouble.
But I couldn't just wander off with the two demons who kidnapped me. Could I?
Ram kicked the hull of the transport, mostly buried in sand, before turning and walking off, leaving me behind. Ahmose scowled, but abandoned me to follow.
Oh no they did not.
Cursing again, arms crossed over my chest as I mumbled furiously to myself about boys and their arrogance, I stomped my bare-footed way after them.
***
Chapter Seven
The soft, shifting ,sandy ground heated quickly, catching the warmth of the rising suns to the point I hopped an undignified, hissing gait punctuated with “ah!” and “ooh!” as the bottoms of my feet stung. Ram finally stopped with a heavy sigh, turning to glare at me while I dug my toes in and glared my fury.
Instead of commenting, though I was sure he wanted to from the irritated but amused look on his handsome (stop it right there, Sydlynn Hayle) face, he knelt at my feet with a murmured, “Your Highness.” With two quick jabs of a sharp rock, he cut off two strips of fabric from each leg of my pajama pants.
My favorite pajama pants. He'd pay. Oh yes indeedy doodle. He'd pay.
Ram looked up at me, eyes twinkling. “If you would allow me?”
Like I had a choice. I lifted one red-tinted foot, wincing at the state of my black toenails, wondering if Ram thought they were ugly. Yeah, cut that thought off at the pass. Not that I was usually worried about a pedi, but demon toes weren’t all that pretty to begin with and my ordeal so far had done a number on the hardened edges of my nails.
Vanity, Syd? At a time like this and for a guy deserving a butt whooping? Sad.
I instantly realized it was hard to stand on one foot with my arms crossed over my chest and, rather than hopping like an idiot, I reached out on impulse and rested one hand on the top of his head to keep my balance.
Hmm. His hair felt thick and very soft, falling in waves around his broad cheekbones, parting at his brow around his shining black half-turn horns, brushing his shoulders. He had it tucked casually behind one ear as his deft hands wrapped the flannel strip around my abused foot and tied it off.
Instantly better. But I wasn't letting him off the hook.
My other foot now protected like the first, Ram rose to face me, so close our noses almost touched. I was about to step back, but refused to give ground despite the fact my demon hummed softly to me she thought he had possibilities.
Traitor.
“You're welcome,” he said. “Now, Princess, if you're done whining, we have a way to go and, in case you hadn't noticed, it's not getting any cooler out here.”
I forgave Quaid every single snarky thing he ever said to me and would have personally apologized to him in that moment if he'd been standing there. He had nothing on Rameranselot.
If only my demon kidnapper wasn't so creepalicious.
Muttering under my breath, eyes locked on the ruins of my pants, I snarled to my demon we would never, ever, even in the most desperate of moments even consider Ram as anything but a jackass.
I didn't look up until Ahmose sighed for the three thousandth time, a nasty insult barely held back between my clenched teeth, greeted by the sight of a low cluster of buildings emerging from the horizon.
“Finally,” Ahmose said. “I was beginning to doubt you, Ram.”
The taller demon wiped at his sweating brow, though his grin never faltered. “Faith, Ahmose. You lack faith.”
Now that we were finally close to civilization, no matter how civil, my anger slid free enough I really noticed the heat.
“How much farther?” I pushed between the pair and stared at the town with one hand shielding my eyes from the dozen suns now beating down on us. I'd been here twice before and had never noticed a drastic upswing in temperature like this.
“Not used to the heat, Princess?” I was going to shove Ram’s grinning face in the sand and make him swallow some.
Grumble, mumble. “It’s not this hot in Ostrogotho.” Crap. Whining. I hated whining.
“Protections aren’t as powerful here,” Ram said, eyes scanning the landscape. “All our suns pack a heat punch we’d never survive without some kind of shielding. But those in charge,” yeah, go ahead, rub it in like I was one of them, “deem outer plane demons unworthy of their full protection.”
Well… that kind of pissed me off, too, actually. Way to care for your people, Ahbi.
Ram didn’t comment at my silence, just offered me another grin. “We'll make it,” Ram said. “Though the more talking we do, the slower we are. And I'd rather not end up carrying you, Princess, when you finally faint from the heat.”
Jack. Ass. I turned on him, smiled my sweetest. And wrapped myself in a bubble of cool air.
“Oh, I'll be fine,” I said, kicking myself for not thinking of such a strategy before, but oh so pleased to be able to rub my superiority in his face. “Keep up, would you?” I turned and waved at the staring pair. “I wouldn't want to have to carry you the rest of the way because you passed out from the heat.”
Ha. Ha. Ha.
So awesome.
No way was I sharing my little cocoon of yummy coolness, fed by my water magic, though I admit there wasn't much water to draw from. Just enough I could chill it down and keep myself in reasonable comfort as I strode, now whistling happily to rub it in, while the dynamic duo panted and tried to keep up.
I slowed as I neared the first building, not because I wanted to, but because the sight of it was a little unnerving. I was used to the opulence of Ostrogotho, where even the lowest plane was well cared for. The closer I came to the house, if it was a house, on the far edge of the town, the more nervous I became.
What looked like thin sheets of some kind of extruded metal shuddered in a low breeze picking up across the sand, sending whirls of dust devils dancing across the flat landscape. The rattle of the tin-like walls echoed to me, patches of green and black scars staining the surface in bruises of what must have been Demoniconian rust. One window, hacked out of the sheet, rattled in its frame, thin slats barely holding the clouded material in place. No fancy shielding here to keep nature at bay. Scrub greens, more brown than anything, clung to the base of the wall, hugging it as if for protection from the elements. I glanced over my shoulder at Ram who scowled, but not at me.
“Let me lead,” he said, without a trace of snark, so I allowed it, not sure what we were walking into. Though it seemed he did. Ahmose's wrinkled nose and disgus
t snapped at my temper for some reason, though I chose to ignore him instead of figuring out why.
I so had to get out of here.
Ram was almost to the corner of the first house, stepping onto a flattened path that passed for a road when a demon shuffled fearfully out into the open to gape at us. He was smaller than most demons I'd seen, narrow in the shoulder, bow-legged, clothed in sack-like fabric, feet bare and thick-soled. His amber eyes barely flickered with power as he slunk back from Ram as though wishing he'd stayed inside after all.
“We won't harm you.” Ram's voice reached me as he held out one hand to the cowering demon. “We only need assistance.”
Just when I was learning to despise him, he shocked me. Empathy poured from him, magic touching the other demon, supporting him until the frightened male bobbed his head in a welcoming nod.
“Pasht,” he said. Grunted. I think he said “Pasht”.
“Ram.” The demon bowed to Pasht before turning to Ahmose and I. “Ahm,” he said. “And Syd.”
Pasht licked his thick lips when he looked at me, eyes widening. “Pretty,” he said.
“She is, indeed,” Ram said, shaking his head at me with a little frown as though to warn me not to respond badly. As if I would. So some poor low-plane demon thought I was pretty.
Hang on. Ram said I was, too.
No. No. No. No. Ram bad. No, Syd. Sheesh.
Movement behind Pasht's shoulder drew my attention as a round demon woman with hair to her hips and harsh-edged horns peeked around the corner, a pair of naked children, one boy and one girl, clung to her legs and stared with open mouths.
“What?” She said more than that, but it was hard to make out, some kind of guttural dialect I didn't recognize. But “what” was the gist.
Pasht spun and snarled at her, waving for her to go. She cowered back, burst into furious tears and screamed something at him that had to be a curse before she shoved her two now-sobbing kids back the way they'd come.
Mate and kids out of the way, Pasht gestured for us to follow him. I did so with great reluctance, keeping my magic tight around me despite Ram's seeming calm. Ahmose, I noticed, stuck close to me and I couldn't help but label him a coward.
I had no idea what to expect from this community of low-plane demons, though as we progressed past Pasht's house and moved deeper into the town, my impressions of their living conditions didn't improve. One dingy and half-collapsing house after another flanked the packed dirt street, a mish-mash of alleyways with openly running refuse and filth, narrow trenches dug between walls, coursing away from the center of the town. I remained grateful for my protective bubble and, from the look on Ahmose's face, I wouldn't be letting it down anytime soon. Not with him lifting the collar of his shirt to breathe through.
The smell had to be epic. Thank the elements for magic.
We began to gather a little parade behind us, demons emerging from their ramshackle homes with curiosity to drift along behind us, whispering and chattering, the sound growing as we finally reached what had to be the center of their little town, a circular empty patch with a hole dug in the middle. Rocks lined the edges, darkened with moisture as three demon women paused to stare, jugs of water perched on the lip.
A well. And while I knew my plane had people such as these who lived in conditions so desperate, I felt my heart go out to this community while my demon snarled and swore she'd do something to help them when all of this was over. Even though I knew from the echoing sigh of Ahbi's power, there was nothing to be done.
“Qesay!” Pasht stopped near the well and called out, focused on a rather elaborate version of his own home, decorated with colored glass and a few meager carvings and sculptures.
This will be their leader, Ram sent. Stay quiet and don't insult him. We need their help.
As if. As long as he didn't do anything to warrant it. I was not in the mood to be sold for a bushel of whatever passed for crops to these people.
I needn't have worried. The shuffling old demon who emerged from the house with one wizened hand gripping a warped staff for support lifted her head to stare at us, lips puckered, face a round, dried, dark red apple, amber eyes alive with magic. Curved horns spun in spirals by her ears, the most turns I'd ever seen on a demon, denoting great age. She held herself with immense dignity and immediately reminded me of Ahbi. So much so, I bowed my head to her. Eyes widening, she bowed hers in return, a little smile pulling at her mouth.
“Welcome,” she said. “You come.” Qesay then turned and shuffled her way back inside her house. I followed without fear, Ram at my side, Ahmose trailing, turning his head to look at the gathered crowd who pushed themselves through the door behind us until they blocked most of the light. The large hole in the ceiling, patched with multi-colored panes of glass, offered enough illumination to see the interior.
Dirt floor, a few rickety benches lining the walls and a large empty space in the middle. Had to be a meeting hall of some kind, doubling as Qesay's residence, a curtain of heavy fabric sectioning off one side.
I joined the leader in the center of the room while demons piled in after me, circling slowly, hunching down to wait and watch, mothers with babes clinging to them and older children pushing and shoving for a view, young male demons whispering among themselves while their female counterparts clung to each other as though we had arrived to take them hostage. A small group of equally aged demons, Qesay's peers I was guessing, came reluctantly forward. Three men and another woman joined Qesay, though held back from us while Ahmose waved his hand in front of his face.
“Damned low-plane stink,” he hissed at Ram. “You'd think they'd at least keep themselves clean.”
I spun on him as Qesay scowled and wrapped a rope of magic around his neck. The gathered village gasped as my power crushed his and drove him to his knees, his hands grasping at the amber restraint.
“Shut. Up.” I turned to Qesay who was no longer scowling, but watched me carefully. “I apologize for our companion's insult,” I said.
She stared at him while he writhed and snarled, holding herself still for a long moment, her people held captive by the spectacle, before waving her wrinkled hand at me, her black talons looking like stone. “Peace,” she said.
I let Ahmose go, but not without a further shove, sending him sprawling as my magic released him. His magic rose to answer, but Ram's crackled once and Ahmose relented. The pure hate he shot at me through his amber gaze was enough to tell me I'd canceled out any good will I'd had with him, and sent him back to his original plan of having me killed.
We'd just see about that.
Besides, the grudging admiration on Ram's face was worth it.
Why did I want his approval again?
“You honor us,” Ram said, bowing at the waist to Qesay and her council who tittered at the honor, considering they were of much lower status. “Thank you for welcoming us into your village.”
Qesay looked back and forth between Ram and me, finally addressing me. I'm not sure what made her think I was the boss of our particular little group, except maybe she recognized a fellow leader when she met one. And I was the boss, yessiree. Ram would just have to suck up that particular bit of truth and choke on it.
“Honor to our ghaman.”
Ghaman means town, Ram sent.
I got that, thanks, I shot back before smiling at Qesay. “The honor is ours.”
“Lost?” Qesay's speech was longer than one word, but again I had trouble. I realized it wasn't a foreign tongue, but a bastardization of the language making her hard to understand. Good thing Ram knew a thing or two about being a bastard.
“We are,” he answered her. “We need transport.”
I almost laughed at him. The likelihood of these people having access to such advanced magic was so slim I expected them to offer us one of the flying dragon creatures I'd seen last time I was here. Come to think of it, I wasn't opposed to the idea. How cool would it be to fly into Ostrogotho on the back of a dragon?
But Qesay surprised me by nodding. “This way,” she said as she turned and limped off, waving her staff with a growl, the circle parting to allow her passage, with us trailing along behind her.
Outside welcomed us, the brightness of the day forcing me to squint as I got used to it all over again. We didn't have far to go, though I winced as my flannel-wrapped feet slipped and landed in a trough of who knew what when I tried to hop over. Ram's lips twitched and I could feel the laugh building inside him through his touch as he took my hand and steadied me.
Go ahead. Laugh. Pay for it later.
Qesay gestured at a large pile of what looked like garbage, her magic humming softly around her. Nowhere near the strength of the demons I was familiar with, she had, from the way it felt, managed to maximize the use of what she did possess. Bits of debris and discarded junk flew from the pile, exposing a small and dented transport. Ram moved forward immediately with a smile on his face, but I winced. It was tiny, a personal vehicle, obviously, smaller by a quarter than the one Ahbi took us on to tour Demonicon. I glanced sideways at Ahmose who crossed his arms over his chest and scowled and I knew he was thinking what I was thinking.
No room for three.
Someone would be staying behind.
“I can work with this.” Ram grinned at me before bowing again to Qesay. “Your price, honorable leader?”
I could see her mind working, shrewd eyes narrowed, a little grin on her face. “Power,” she said.
Of course. It was the main currency of Demonicon, wasn't it? Even she wasn't immune to the call of more magic. I felt rather disappointed, though I hardly blamed her.
Until Ram nodded and held out his hand to her. Qesay shook her head and stepped back.
“All,” she said.
Before he could act, I stepped up and held out my hand, my demon grumbling, but knowing what I was about to do was the right thing. “Our pleasure,” I said, grinning suddenly, hope rising in me as I understood her request. She didn't want the magic just for herself. She wanted to help her whole village. And while the energy I could give them wouldn't elevate them far enough to do much good, I could at least make their lives a little easier by increasing what they could accomplish with magic.
