Caught in the Devils' Hand

by Ruby Duvall

  “Well…no. I wanted to steal the Devil’s Hand from her corner chest, but I did it because it’s so important to yo—” She almost finished her sentence when the anger came over her lover’s face.

  “If she had traded her soul for power from practically any demon capable of being summoned, which means it’s a powerful demon, then she could have killed you. You must have at least felt the aura of her new powers. You knew she had become stronger, and yet you picked a fight anyway! You almost got yourself killed over a book, Shumei!” he ground out.

  “It’s not just a book! It’s a way to give you the humanity you lost so long ago! I wanted to give this opportunity to you! I wanted to give you something you couldn’t get yourself!” she argued. The book was starting to feel heavy in her hand, and she set it on her lap.

  “If you had died in that house, trying to give me something I’ve already lived without for countless years, your death would have been in vain, and your name would’ve been slandered forever by the lies that Majo, the leader and his wife would have told to cover up their sins! Did you think of what would have happened to your brother?” he railed.

  “I took a risk, yes, but it paid off, didn’t it?” she yelled back.

  “Um…sorry to interrupt,” a small voice interjected. Both lovers shot their glares at the young boy staring at them with wide eyes, but to his credit, Oka didn’t cower.

  “I don’t understand why you’re fighting. You got something important to you, Shumei’s alive and we’re all together. Why would you argue about something already over and done?” he said, his high-pitched voice carrying that conflicting mature tone. Vallen’s jaw hardened and Shumei looked a bit humbled, even more so by the fact that her own younger brother was making more sense than she.

  “It was still a foolhardy decision. She should avoid that in the future,” Vallen grumbled, sitting back and putting his chin on his propped-up palm.

  “Did you have to scream to get that across?” she said quietly. “I knew it was stupid going into it, but I couldn’t just leave without trying…”

  There was a long pause in which Oka partook of enough apple slices to give himself a bellyache, she was sure, but finally, Vallen broke the silence.

  “We need to change that bandage and put some medicine on it.”

  “I just need a pestle and mortar, plus some water from the jug,” she requested.

  “I can make the medicine. I need your medicine bag though. Besides, you’ll have a hard time crushing the leaves with an injured shoulder,” he rationalized. She nodded silently in agreement and handed the bag to him. The all-important, powerful spell book was momentarily forgotten, set on the floor between Vallen and Shumei’s chairs.

  “What about a needle and some thread? Is there anything like that left?”

  “Don’t worry about the dress. There are plenty more where that one came from,” he muttered, looking through the bag and lifting out the mass of mixed-up herbs.

  “No, I mean…I think I’ll need stitches,” she whispered. The demon’s face jerked up suddenly, a look of mild shock on his face.

  “That’ll hurt,” he said.

  “It won’t heal properly otherwise. My new crop of Sticking Comfrey hasn’t matured, and we ran out only a couple of days ago,” she confessed. Vallen hid his frown by laying the plants in some sort of order on the table.

  “Oka, in the cabinet behind you, there’s a set of needles and thread in the bottom of the middle shelf,” he instructed.

  “Sister,” Oka said quietly.

  “Do it, Oka. When you bring it, take the rest of the apples and go explore the forest out the back. Don’t stray too far though,” she told him. He nodded, silently acknowledging that he was being dismissed.

  Vallen pulled out a pestle and mortar from the same bag from which he had produced the empty bottles, carefully poured a few drops into the bottom of the mortar and began to grind up a couple of carefully chosen leaves. She was glad to see that he had picked the right plant. Oka placed the sewing set on the table, which was quickly filling up with their random items, and grabbed a couple of apple slices, leaving the plate nearly empty as he left the house.

  Ten minutes later, Shumei wiped a few tears from her cheeks as Vallen tied off the stitches in her shoulder, trying to hold in her gasps of pain as he finally finished. A bit more washing with another clean cloth and it was just a couple of minutes before the salve was smeared on and a fresh bandage was wrapped tightly around her shoulder.

  “Stay there and relax a bit. I’ll be right back.”

  She wiped at her eyes, sniffing, and watched as he exited the room into the complex interior, wondering how he could see where he was going when there was no light in the hallway, as far as she could tell. Reaching to the plate sitting close at hand, she plucked the last apple slice and bit into it, feeling comforted by the sugary taste after her ordeal. She used the sleeve of her dress to hold over her bare breasts but otherwise didn’t bother to dress again.

  When Vallen returned, she gasped upon seeing the vision in his arms. It was a dress of deep forest green, covered in stylish taste with shimmering gold leaves, much like the glimmering leaf-covered tree on the shirt she had seen him wearing only two days earlier.

  “Oh Vallen,” she sighed, standing.

  “My family’s symbol was the tree, which might somewhat explain why this secret estate is built the way it is. With the trees we cleared as per the architectural design, we built this estate and so the felled trees never left their birthplace.”

  She nodded silently in understanding and he watched as she gently stroked her hand over the softness of the dress he held out to her.

  “Let me dress you,” he roughly uttered, taking a large step closer. She looked up at him, his mouth mere inches away. His eyes were so clear, so blue and his firm, wide lips looked in need of a kiss. They always did, it seemed.

  “Please,” she said simply. She released her hold on her dress and it fell away, leaving her in only her simple white socks.

  “By the gods…if only I could pleasure you now,” he hoarsely whispered, keeping the dress in one arm while the other carefully curled around her bare torso. “I want to make you forget the pain you went through this morning.”

  “I know…perhaps in a few days. Can you…last that long?” she asked, referring to his demonic need. Vallen chose to take it the other way, his smirk full of mischief.

  “Even if you promised me your body in an hour, I wouldn’t last that long. You are too tempting,” he huskily said, his hand boldly caressing her bare rear. She took in a sudden breath, her eyes half-closing. “I suppose this could be an opportunity though. I will teach you magic enough to complete the reverse of the Incubus Curse, and while you are studying, I shall teach your brother to fence. Your injury might have saved you several days on your back, my love.”

  “Or it may have cruelly denied me the same,” she rejoined. She felt the puff of air on her cheek as he very softly chuckled.

  “Well, young Oka may return soon. We had best get you dressed,” he announced, stepping back and arranging her dress in his hands. He tossed the bright gold belt over his shoulder and held the dress open for her, letting her slide her arms into the sleeves and gently closing the front.

  “It’s even softer than the black dress,” she sighed, feeling her nipples pucker under the gentle caress of the liquid smooth cloth.

  “This one is of a quality that befits a woman of the dark court. I chose to give you that more serviceable black dress to make it less conspicuous in your village, little good did that do you. It was a maid’s dress,” he explained, starting the knot in her belt behind her back.

  “That was a maid’s dress?” she exclaimed, amazed at the wealth of the nobles of old.

  “There was no insult on my part in giving you that dress,” he said in excuse.

  “N-no, I mean…was your family so rich to be able to give such an expensive dress to a maid?”

  “No noble of the dark c
ourt would have a poorly dressed servant and it made the servants happier anyway, and yes, I suppose you could say my family was rich, but we were still in the ‘middle class’ of the court.”

  “You once told me that the dark court was made up of several houses. What did you mean?” she asked, working up to the question she had decided to ask when Oka had mentioned past empresses.

  “The court consisted of thirteen houses, each aligning itself with one of the four seasons. Spring had the most houses, a total of five. Summer had four, leaving Autumn and Winter with two each,” he said as he finished tying her belt. He waited until she had turned around to answer the obvious question in her eyes.

  “My house, signified by the tree, belonged to summer, and Rosuke’s house, signified by the dragonfly, also belonged to summer.”

  “And the previous empress? Which house did she come from?” she asked with fascination, wondering what all of the houses’ symbols were and what their families were like. Vallen’s face, though, held some confusion.

  “The empress? She didn’t really belong to any house. When the empress gave birth to a daughter, her daughter would become the next empress.”

  “But what if she never had a daughter?”

  “That never happened. The Divine One ensured that his chosen one gave birth to a girl and always a girl first. Any subsequent sons or daughters chose their own house to join upon their twentieth birthday, though their choices were somewhat limited. All magic users fall into one season, which is reflected in the color of their magic. Green for spring, yellow for summer, red for autumn and blue for winter. If you had green magic, you have five houses to choose from.” Shumei frowned a bit.

  “That’s kind of sad,” she said.

  “And troublesome,” he nodded. “An empress with any siblings had to solve house squabbles without showing any favoritism. In addition, her younger siblings sometimes came to resent her and whether or not it was shown publicly, the entire court knew and so did the empress.”

  “Couldn’t the empress change the rules?”

  “Well, I suppose, but the court always put pressure on any empress to stick to their traditions.”

  “Then how was the first empress chosen?” she asked, sitting down again after going to the outside door and sliding it open as an indication to Oka to return. Vallen sat next to her, idly cleaning up the mess they had made.

  “It’s a bit vague and poetic, but as the story goes, all the black-haired people felt the pull of their intended leader and came upon her in her home, where she sat waiting for them. They could feel the aura of her magic and knew it to be the mother of their own. Thus she came to lead them to battle against the Dark One, whose minions were driven to the shadow of night and the cold blackness of Oblivion. She established the language of magic, the system of protection for all cities and towns to keep demons at bay, and formed armies to fight the uprisings of the Dark One.”

  “Wow…Empress Suzu did all of that?” she asked, her mouth ajar in wonder.

  “Well, I’m sure she had a bit of help at least, but yes, she was the one who made the world before this one and anyway, all of her successive descendants had the same aura about them. Whenever an empress became pregnant with her heir, the whole court knew because they could feel the pull of the new empress’s magic.”

  “Could demons feel it? Wouldn’t they use it to find her?” she asked, absent-mindedly stroking the soft material of her dress.

  “No, a demon’s magic is not born from the empress, but from the Dark One. They cannot tell which female noble is the empress, though sometimes it was pretty obvious if you just looked to see who had the most guards,” he said with a small smile.

  “Well…when the last empress was killed, didn’t she have a daughter?” she asked, her quest for answers not deterred by his humor.

  “She was a young empress and hadn’t yet chosen a husband, so she died childless, unfortunately. When Rosuke and I found out…well, we had known the last empress when she was a child. It was a sad day when the news reached us of the people’s uprising.”

  “Then…what does that mean?”

  “It means that a new empress hasn’t been born yet, anywhere. It’s been several hundred years though. I wonder if a new empress will ever be born,” he said.

  “Sister,” Oka groaned from the doorway. Shumei jerked in surprise and looked to where her brother stood. The sun seemed to be a couple of hours from setting, if the light was any indication.

  “You ate too many apple slices, didn’t you?” she clucked, seeing that he was holding his stomach.

  “Do you have any Soothing Rosemary with you?” he mumbled, walking into the room after shutting the door. It seemed a lot dimmer inside than when they had first arrived.

  “You’d have to chew it raw since we don’t have any hot water on hand,” she said, reaching for one of the piles of leaves Vallen had neatly arranged while they were talking.

  “I don’t care. Just as long as the pain stops,” he said as he came forward, taking the small leaves from his sister’s hand and popping them in his mouth.

  “I’ll have something better ready for your breakfast,” Vallen promised, putting the medicinal plants back into Shumei’s bag. He looked at Oka’s chewing face and saw the young boy’s eyes on the bloodstained bandages and towels.

  “Are you going to be okay now?” Oka asked his sister. She returned a tight-lipped smile, nodding.

  “I’ll be perfectly fine. I trust my own plants, don’t I?”

  “I hope you do, because I’m chewing on some of them now,” Oka joked. “Nice dress by the way,” he complimented, flopping down into his original seat.

  “Thanks,” she smiled, still petting the soft material of her skirt, her fingertips gently admiring the bumps of the gold-colored embroidery. They talked a bit more, mostly of what they would do now. She filled them in on what had happened to her that morning, which had her dodging a barrage of questions from both males sitting on either side of her. She told them of her suspicions about the witch, almost all of which were now true, and then they came to the meat of the topic.

  “Oka told me first of the news concerning the attack on Houfu. I learned from one of the merchants that thousands had died in one night, and that those who survived fled the city, heading toward these mountains,” she explained, her tone hushed. All three of them had grim faces.

  “I have also heard reports,” Vallen concurred.

  “You? How?” Oka asked, the reason for his disbelief obvious.

  “It’s easy work to stop someone on the road and ask a question. No matter who it is and how afraid they may be of a demon, enough kols will get me any answer I want,” he answered.

  “Not to put too fine a point on it, but as a demon, don’t you get news from…‘the other side’?” she piped in.

  “Since I’m an artificially made demon, the rules are different for me. I answer to no one, except in death. So therefore, no one from ‘the other side’ tells me anything either. I have the choice to work for your side—our side—so no real demon would dare share any information with me.”

  “Have you ever met one?” Oka asked, his eyes wide.

  “Of course. I killed quite a few when I was a full-fledged member of the dark court. After my curse, I met a few then too and was just as motivated to kill them. Real demons that meet artificial demons have an annoying habit of wanting to kill them.”

  “But why now? After all these years, why would demons start attacking again? Even the oldest member of my village, who has more than fifty-five summers under his belt, said that he could never remember demons attacking the way Houfu was attacked,” Shumei said.

  “That I do not know. Perhaps if we could interrogate Majo, she would know. She seems to be within the enemy’s council.” Vallen idly tapped the arm of his chair, his face the picture of contemplation.

  Oka’s yawn was loud, though he at least covered his mouth. She looked to the closed doors leading outside and saw that the light of
the sun was only an hour or so from becoming extinguished. The same fear that she always felt upon sunset settled in her stomach, a coldness that nearly masked the warm lump of magic sitting contentedly inside her. What made this night different was that she was hidden in a magically protected mansion with her own demon guardian, but old fears never really die.

  “I’m sure you’re both tired,” Vallen announced, coming to a stand. “I’ll show you to your rooms so that you can get some rest.”

  “I have my own room?!” Oka said excitedly, his sleepiness momentarily alleviated. She smiled, preparing to stand up herself, and gasped when a pair of strong hands pulled her up to her feet by her waist.

  “This way,” Vallen said, gesturing toward the inner doors.

  The hallway, leading off in both directions, was barely lit by the outside light that came in from other rooms, but the floor was clean and clear of any objects one might stub a toe on. Vallen pushed Oka ahead of him with one hand on the boy’s back, until they came to the end of the rightward hallway. The door to this room, a fourth of the sitting room’s size, was already open. Oka ran inside, his face alight with wonder.

  In the center of the bedroom was a large sleeping mat, though it was far thicker and more luxurious than the ones in their old hut. One of the walls was adorned with simple artwork, and in front of the opposite wall sat another set of cabinets, plus some sort of table with drawers and its own legless chair.

  “I get to sleep here?” he asked, his voice small.

  “Yes, and if you need, there’s a place to answer the call of nature just next door in the very corner of the building. It’s not too difficult to figure out how to use it,” Vallen instructed, smiling broadly at the boy’s amazement. Oka immediately ran to the facility next door to look at the small room.

  “I just…pull this handle?” he asked from inside. Her eyebrows came together in curiosity, and she even leaned in behind Oka to see what this “handle” was.

  “Let’s go see your room,” Vallen whispered to her, making her body shiver in the warmth of late afternoon.