by Debra Dunbar
Of course they’d want to figure out something so intriguing. I felt relief as the collar clicked from my neck, assuming they’d leave me netted in the dungeon until Taullian came back to do whatever he wanted to do with me.
“Cleofan.”
I guess not. The net dissolved from me. I slowly stood, stretching cramped, stiff muscles. The dungeon seemed much the same as the one in Wythyn. Stone walls. No windows. Big metal bars that glowed with magic.
I turned and saw Kirby outside the closed gate, two guards by his side.
“Would you please leave me to have a private word with the Iblis?” he asked the guards. I barely controlled my surprise. Asking to be alone with me? That was really going to raise suspicions. But instead, the two guards exchanged looks then glanced at me.
“We appreciate your kindness to our kin, Tlia-Myea,” one told me. “May the Goddess continue to grand you her favor.”
I didn’t know much about “continue”. I think whatever deity had once smiled upon me was long gone at this point. Still, I watched them leave, no doubt positioning themselves just outside the dungeon door, ready to race in at the slightest sound of trouble.
“I delivered your note and marble to your family,” I told Kirby, fingering the skin where the silver collar had been around my neck. “They were relieved that you were still alive, although they were very upset about what had happened.”
“I know.” The mage grinned. “The marble—it was a gate relay. We’ve been working on them for the last decade, trying to find a way to establish permanent, movable, interdimensional access points that are unnoticeable until activated. I’ve been able to go home to visit and be back before anyone realizes I’m gone.”
Holy shit! That was huge. Gates were always either open, like the elf traps, or doorways that were visible and usable to anyone with the skill to activate them. A stealthy gate, activated briefly only to melt into its surroundings, was an amazing feat of magic. The implications hit me. Forget the demon powered magics of Feille, this was the real ultimate weapon. To be able to appear right before your enemy, kill him and vanish before anyone ever knew—that was far more valuable than the brute force that Wythyn held. Did Taullian realize he had such a thing at his disposal? Perhaps there was more to this elf lord and his quick acquiescence than I thought. I could tell Kirby wanted to talk about his family reunion but all I could think about was the storm on the horizon.
“Does Taullian know about this? How many of the elven kingdoms have something similar?”
Kirby tilted his head, his expression quizzical. “Yes, of course he knows, although he has no idea I’ve been using it. No other kingdom has it that I’m aware of, and the entire project is of the highest secrecy. If I weren’t a level twelve mage, I wouldn’t know of it.”
I walked toward the cell bars, feeling a sizzle like a static shock as I drew near. “Really bad shit is about to hit the fan, Kirby,” I told him, keeping a respectable distance from the bars. “This thing with Feille is bigger than anyone knows.”
He nodded. “No one believes he’ll keep his end of the treaty. He’ll stabilize Li, Tonlielle, and Allwin, then tear through Cyelle like a hurricane. Everyone knows what life will be like if he takes control of the kingdom, and it will be ten times worse with him as ruler of all six of the southern kingdoms.”
“Bigger,” I told him, ignoring the sizzle of the bars to lean closer. “He has something that will give him control over demons. Once he gets his elven power base, he’s going for all of Hel. Including the northern elven kingdoms.”
Kirby stepped back in shock. “No. He can’t. There’s no way he can possibly overcome the ancient demons. Maybe Lows and imps. Possibly mid-level plague-bringers, but not the ancients. Once they see what he’s up to, they’ll band together and crush him.”
I didn’t have time to get into the absolute lack of cooperation among the demons in Hel with him. “Trust me. You guys need to make a stand. You need to use this stealthy gate thing to get an army on his doorstep and take Wythyn down as they sleep. The northern kingdoms won’t do anything to support you until it’s too late; they won’t bother. It’s all up to Cyelle.”
“We don’t….” Kirby hesitated. “I don’t know what his lordship intends. He’s not an aggressive ruler. He spends most of his energy on infrastructure, research, and cultural preservation. I respect that, I really do, but he’s not the kind of lord for subterfuge or overt attack.”
I rubbed my hands over my face. Fuck. The sole hope of the southern elves, the northern elves, and the demons lay in the hands of a social feel-good politician. No doubt he thought the treaty was a reasonable compromise, preserving the peace of his kingdom at the cost of only his pride. He’d still be thinking that when Feille lopped off his head and executed half his people.
“We traded two of our sorcerers,” Kirby continued. “We only have one left, and three high level mages. Not enough to wage war, even with a gate relay. I believe you, I really do, but I don’t know what I can do to help.”
He was a mage, and a human. There probably wasn’t much he could do. Except….
“Can you get a message to my household? A message to Dar?” I pleaded. “Let him know what I told you. I want them to prepare for Feille’s attack.”
The elves were a lost cause, but I wasn’t going to give up on the rest of Hel. There might be nothing Dar could do either, but at least the demons wouldn’t be surprised. If they believed him. If not, then at least Dar and my household wouldn’t be surprised. Dar was stronger than he let on, and he had the kind of subtle influence centuries of wheeling and dealing had brought.
“I’ll try,” Kirby said doubtfully. “It’s not easy to get a message out right now. Wythyn is watching us carefully. And I’m a human; I don’t have much leeway in travel outside the city, let alone outside the kingdom and into demon lands.”
“Try. Please try. Tell them what I told you about Feille’s plans, and ask them to tell Wyatt to let Gregory know that there’s more to what happened to me than we thought. That there are others in Aaru involved.”
Kirby looked confused. “Tell Dar that the Wythyn elves are going to attack the demons, and Wilson needs to tell somebody there are others involved with the angels?”
Close enough. “Wyatt. And Gregory.”
He nodded, and I had no doubt that the message was going to be garbled beyond recognition by the time it reached Dar. Fuck. I needed to get out of here.
“Why did you come back?” I asked the mage, curious. “You could just disappear one night, go home and never return.” He’d had a way out, a way back to his parents, and he’d returned.
“I belong here. I enjoy my work. I have friends and colleagues. I have a life here, valuable skills and interesting opportunities for advancement. What would I do as a mage back home? I’d wind up delivering pizzas and living in my parents’ basement.”
“But you’d be free. Doesn’t that count for something?”
“Yes, but it’s not worth the trade-off. Other humans might choose differently, but I have value here. The elves respect me, even if they are pompous jerks sometimes. I’d miss my magic, the forests, the festivals, my friends. This is my home now. I just want to be able to see my parents every week or so, not give everything up to return there.”
It was the same as Nyalla had said. There was no going home for so many of these humans, even Kirby who had family that loved him. If they’d choose to stay in Hel, then I needed to make sure they could carve out a decent life here. It’s not like anyone else gave two shits for them. Besides, they were mine. Mine.
“You know what will happen to you humans if Feille takes over?” I asked softly, remembering the girl the guards had thrown in my dungeon cell. “I’ve seen how the elves there treat the servants, and I don’t think the mages have it much better.”
Kirby whitened, looking like he was on the verge of puking up his lunch. “I know. We won’t have it quite as bad as the servants will, but there will be no more social
izing amongst ourselves, or free time. We’ll be on constant lockdown, every movement accounted for, every spell component logged and signed out. His sorcerers are on every hour, every day. They achieve amazing feats of knowledge and magic, but no one can take that kind of pressure for long. Escape winds up looking like a good option, even with the probability of death by a demon bounty hunter.”
“What will you do, Kirby?” I knew what I’d do. I’d fight to the death, just like so many of us did two and a half million years ago in the war with the angels. And if I was given a choice, I’d take eternal exile over a life of subjugation.
The mage’s jaw clenched. “I’ll fight for Taullian. It’s the best option I’ve got. And if we lose and I’m still alive, I’ll leave and spend the rest of my life delivering pizzas.”
I felt a surge of something powerful in my core. I loved humans. The gifts of Aaru, every fuck up that had happened since then—it hadn’t been a mistake. They were the perfect blend of order and chaos. If the angels couldn’t see that, they were a bunch of blind idiots. A crazy idea formed in my mind. If I had my way, the only pizza Kirby would see would be one he was about to eat.
“If you hear anything more about Taullian’s plans or the situation in the elven kingdoms, can you find a way to let me know?”
“Yes, although I may not know of anything until events are already in motion. Communication has been locked down tight, and we’re all in the dark.”
I nodded and watched as he turned to leave.
“Wait,” I called after him. He stopped and retraced his steps. “Why did Taullian trade two sorcerers for me? His need for vengeance can’t be so strong that he would weaken his kingdom to see me suffer.”
Kirby thought then shook his head. “He knows how erratic you are—like chaos personified. We all think he plans to throw you at Feille to distract and occupy him while he’s launching some sort of attack. It’s not good strategy that I can see, but then again, we’re not exactly prepared for war. We might be wrong, though. Possibly he thought Feille was going to take the sorcerers anyway and he might as well get something out of the deal?”
And that “something” would be a chance to get back at one of his least favorite demons? I doubted I was worth two sorcerers. I thought on Kirby’s words as he left. Maybe Taullian did have some elaborate plot up his sleeve. But why did the high elf heal me in the dungeon? Why had he continued to feed me and ensure a reasonable amount of comfort in transit? Why wasn’t he flaying the flesh from my bones right now? Did he really intend to catapult me at Feille like some kind of demon warhead? That would really suck, given my current, broken state. But it may… it just may play into this crazy idea I had brewing.
I didn’t have long to wait before Taullian himself came to visit.
He stared at me though the bars. I stared back, wondering who would be the first to break, the first to speak. Imps are not well known for their patience.
“Feille, huh? I’d heard you were a weak ruler, but I never imagined you’d bow down to Wythyn without so much as an arrow fired. You have truly made a deal with the devil.”
He smiled. It was genuine, but it never reached his eyes. “I haven’t yet, but I’m about to.”
“And what good am I? A diversion to make you happy in your remaining days? Torturing me is your idea of a last meal for a condemned high lord?”
He sighed and shook his head as he watched me. “My father would roll over in his grave if he knew what I’m about to do. ‘Never trust the demons’, he always told me, and yet here I am, about to negotiate with the demon I trust the least.” He shrugged, the smile twisting at one corner of his mouth. “As the humans say, ‘the devil you know’.”
Negotiate? Well, that sounded a whole lot more promising than torture and execution. “I’m all ears.”
He glanced briefly at my ears, then scowled. “Not funny, Ni. Not in the least bit amusing.”
Ni. Short for Niyaz, my childhood name. No one called me that anymore, besides Leethu. The name triggered a wave of memory from my childhood—of rolling in the mud at the edge of the swamps, of hiding in Oma’s house from my cruel foster siblings, of frolicking with brave elf children in the woods. Shit. That little elf boy I’d played with all one summer, letting him chase me and shoot me with arrows.
“I didn’t mean to bite part of your ear off,” I said slowly, trying to gauge his reaction. If I was right, no wonder he didn’t trust me. “I was just a child, an overexcited child. There was no malice in what I did.”
He waved a hand. “I know. Demons will be demons. My father warned me to stay away from you, but I was curious. I liked you, and I wanted the other elves to see how brave I was, chasing demon young through the woods.”
“I kept looking for you,” I told him honestly. “I’d hoped you would come back to play again.”
Taullian shook his head, his eyes hard as they met mine. “No. You may have not intended to kill me, but you would have. There is too much risk dealing with demons. Their emotions rule their actions, any loophole in a deal will be exploited, and treachery is inevitable. I learned my lesson that summer long ago. Well, I thought I did, but even after your betrayal with the demon spawn this winter, I’ve returned to deal with you again.”
I sighed. This was going to be very one-sided. He’d never trust me, and the whole situation over the elf/demon hybrid job wasn’t exactly putting me in a good light.
“So what do you want me to do in return for my life and freedom?”
“Help me kill Feille.”
I laughed. Laughed until tears spilled down my cheeks. It’s what I’d planned on doing anyway, but a good demon never gave away any bargaining chips. “You’re fucking kidding me! I’m broken. I could bleed to death from a paper cut. How do you envision I perform this assassination?”
Taullian frowned. “You exploded his dungeon, killing two elves. You crushed his sorcerer’s head with your bare hands.”
“I used a rock that had fallen from the ceiling,” I corrected. “And the explosion wasn’t me.”
Well, not intentionally me. Whatever that sorcerer had done with the demon raw energy had triggered it. I simply facilitated, and lucked out that it had any kind of destructive effect.
“It took three guards to take you down. You’d overpowered Feille and were throttling him.”
“Uhhh, no. The guards were stuck on the other side of a melted dungeon door. Feille smacked the shit out of me with his staff, then roped me with a bunch of vines he grew out of the stone floor and proceeded to beat the shit out of me again.”
Taullian leaned close to the bars. I noted they didn’t sizzle for him. “I’ve seen you in action, Az. There may be some doubt as to whether you are the Iblis or not, but you’re one fierce fighter. You play dirty, throw yourself into a battle like your life means nothing. Feille fears you. I fear you. Nearly every elf in the six southern kingdoms fears you.”
I threw out my hands in frustration. What part of broken did this guy not understand? “Fine. I’ll put it on my to-do list. Anything else? Endless riches? Eternal life? The universe at your feet?”
“Help me restore the kingdoms.”
I’d been joking about that universe thing. I stared at him a moment. “You want to take Feille’s place? Rule over six instead of one?”
Now it was Taullian’s turn to laugh. His was short and bitter. “I want to, but I doubt I can. I don’t have his force of will. I’m weak. I can barely hold my own kingdom together.”
“Your guards seem to respect you. Your humans speak highly of you.” I remembered my conversation with Kirby at the party, how he’d gone on and on about how progressive Taullian was, how the kingdom was surprisingly kind when it came to their laws regarding the treatment of humans. And although he’d admitted Taullian was no warrior just now, he still seemed to hold him in high regard. They were treated like shit, as Nyalla had been, but at least they didn’t suffer as bad as in the other kingdoms.
“Elves respect force and power. An
d humans… well, they don’t matter.”
“They do,” I argued. “’They’re clever and resilient, and they accomplish great things in collaboration with each other. You must have a thousand humans here. Give them equality and see how hard they fight for you, see what kind of army you have.”
His eyebrows shot up. “Humans? They are cowards. Even my mages and sorcerers, skilled as they are, won’t assert themselves in the least.”
“Perhaps they are convenient cowards. Give them your respect and friendship, treat them as peers and see how brave they really are.”
He stood abruptly, spinning on his heel to leave. “Demons lie. And humans are weak cowards.”
“One attacked an angel for me,” I shouted after him. He halted halfway to the door, his back still toward me. “To save me. He is my friend, my lover, and he attacked not just any old angel, but one of the Ruling Council.”
Taullian turned. I couldn’t read his expression from the distance.
“To save me,” I repeated. “Because I treat him as an equal. I treat him with love, respect, and friendship. I have other humans who would do the same, humans I call my friends. If a demon can inspire this, you can too.”
He stood in the dim light of the dungeon watching me, faint light from the illuminating globes dancing off the silver and gold embroidery on his clothing. His chest rose and fell with a deep breath then he turned and walked out, closing the door behind him with a careful ‘snick’.
Kill Feille. Maybe in a few centuries, when I’d regained whatever of my powers I could, but not now. But it had to be now. I had no time to wait, no time to grow strong. The humans, the elves, the demons—it would all be lost if I waited. I looked down at my body, clothed in a borrowed shirt and pants from the elves. I’d extoled the strengths of the humans to Taullian, now it was time to put my money where my mouth was. I might be no better than a human right now, but I was still me on the inside, where it counted. I had to do this. For the humans, for demons who didn’t give a shit about me, for elves who hated me. I had to do this, because some things were worth dying for.
