Demonkin

by Richard S. Tuttle

  “You would let the woman go alone?” asked the thief.

  “Natia can take care of herself,” Tedi replied. “Are you so afraid of a staff that you must fondle it yourself?”

  The thieves hesitated. They had already received instructions to bring the two strangers underground. To leave one of them behind while the other was shown to Headman would not be wise.

  “Are all of his men as fearful as you are?” taunted Natia. “Does a lone man with a staff scare you?”

  The taunt made the decision for the thieves. “Move them along,” the knife-wielding thief ordered his partner. “I will watch your back.”

  The other thief nodded and started walking away. Natia and Tedi casually followed him. The thief led them through the city on a winding path meant to disorient them. Eventually they entered an abandoned building where other men were waiting for them. Tedi and Natia were blindfolded, but no one moved to take Tedi's staff. The Alceans were led down a flight of stairs and then maneuvered through a trap door and down a ladder. The aroma of the sewers was unmistakable as they were led through another maze of twisting passageways. For over an hour they proceeded through the sewers until eventually, they were directed up another ladder. At the top of the ladder, their blindfolds were removed.

  The room was nicely furnished, and a long table sat in the middle of it. At the head of the table sat an elf of indeterminable age. His eyes inspected the Alcean couple and came to rest on Tedi's staff.

  “Place the staff in the corner and then sit down,” commanded the elf.

  Tedi turned to find the men of his escort leaving the room. He walked to the corner and leaned his staff against the wall and then walked to the table and sat next to Natia.

  “What is Speedy's project?” asked the elf.

  “To free the elven children from the reeducation center,” answered Natia.

  The elf nodded in satisfaction. “And you think you can help in some way?”

  “I can,” answered Natia. “I will be coordinating the project here in Giza.”

  “You?” asked the elf with a raised eyebrow. “What can you two do that Morro can not?”

  “Not the two of us,” corrected Natia. “Tedi will be in another city at the time. All of the centers must be emptied at the same time.”

  “You plan to attack all four centers at once?” questioned Headman.

  “It can be no other way.” Natia nodded. “If one was done before the others, the Federation would be expecting the other attacks. They must be done together.”

  “Logical,” the elf said with a shrug, “but I still doubt the ability of anyone to pull off even a single attack. What makes you the person to pull this off?”

  “I know the inside of the center,” answered Natia, “and I know what the reactions of the soldiers will be when an alert is sounded in the city.”

  “How do you know this?”

  “I was inside the center when the shipyards were destroyed,” answered the gypsy princess. “I watched their reactions and movements closely.”

  “How did you get in?” Headman asked skeptically.

  “I have cultivated some interesting friends in Giza,” Natia replied. “Judge Julius is one of them. As a favor to me, he had a colonel escort me for a tour of the center. The colonel believes that I am a spy for Emperor Jaar, so I feel confident that I can regain admittance when the time comes.”

  Headman whistled appreciatively. “Morro spoke very highly not only of Garth, but his people as well. I can see that his judgment is sound. How will the children be taken out, and where will they be taken?”

  “I have arranged for a merchant caravan to be in the city when we need it,” answered Natia. “The children will be smuggled out of the city in the wagons. As to where they are going, I will not say. It is not necessary for the escape, and I don't want anyone left in Giza who can be tortured for the information. I hope you understand that this is necessary.”

  “Your caution is wise.” Headman nodded. “What can I do to help?”

  “I am not sure,” admitted Natia. “I know the layout, and I have a means of escape, but not much more.”

  “Will Morro be here?” asked the head thief.

  “I do not think so,” answered Natia. “He is needed elsewhere.”

  “Then you will need an elf to speak to my people,” declared Headman. “They will not leave the center without assurances from one of their kinsmen. I guess that I will be involved in this more than I had planned on. What do the guards inside do when an alert is sounded?”

  “They all gather at the front door and secure it from the inside. I will have to be inside before that happens.”

  “While it is nice to have them gather like that,” frowned Headman, “such an alert would also seal the city. Your wagons would never get out through the gates. This plan needs a fair amount of work before it is complete.”

  “I agree,” said Natia. “The escape is still a ways off. Why don't you think about it, and I will run it by my people as well. I am sure we can come up with a plan before the day arrives.”

  “Fair enough,” agreed Headman. “Was there anything else?”

  “Yes,” Tedi responded. “We noticed a massive ship being built in the shipyards. Do you have any idea what it is for?”

  “No.” Headman shook his head. “There is a lot of secrecy surrounding that ship. From what I understand, Emperor Jaar ordered it built, but no one knows why. I can tell you that below its enormous deck are about a hundred small cabins. Each cabin is only large enough for a small berth, so I imagine that more than just the ship's crew will be on board.”

  “I don't think they would bother with cabins for soldiers,” posed Tedi.

  “You are correct,” agreed Headman. “Their troop transports have cabins only for officers. The men sleep on deck.”

  “Could the ship carry enough soldiers to require a hundred officers?” asked Natia.

  “It would be a foolish way to transport troops,” shrugged Headman. “They could easily have produced four to six normal transports in the time this ship has taken to build. The cradle itself takes up the space of two normal cradles, and I heard that the cradle will be destroyed once the ship is complete. Whatever the ship is being built for, it will be unique.”

  “Keep an eye on it,” suggested Tedi. “Anything that secret is worth knowing about. Thank you for seeing us, Headman. We are heading down to Valdo to see what the situation is like down there. How can we get to meet you when we come back?”

  “You are known to my people now,” smiled Headman. “I will know when you next enter Giza, and I will send someone to see if a meeting is necessary. Do you know the Strangler?”

  “The Strangler?” echoed Natia. “Who is that?”

  “He is my counterpart in Valdo,” answered the head thief. “Morro is not keeping you well informed. I should talk to him about that. Where is he?”

  “With his people,” answered Natia. “We had not planned to separate before we reached Despair, but sometimes plans go awry. We had to make a hasty exit from Farmin and then we got split up.”

  “You seem to have more than your fair share of hasty exits,” chuckled Headman. “Get a room in Valdo, and put a small hangman's noose on the doorknob. The Strangler will send someone to talk to you.”

  “Will the Strangler be interested in Morro's project?” asked Tedi.

  “That I cannot say,” mused Headman. “I do know that Morro is highly regarded there as well as in Despair and Farmin, but the Strangler is not an elf. He will not have the personal desire for this project as I do. You might have to offer him some financial incentive to aid you.”

  “Yet you do not request a fee for yourself,” noted Natia. “You must know that we would try to pay your price if we could.”

  “I do know that,” Headman smiled thinly, “but I think much like Morro on this subject, although I will admit to having less faith in its feasibility. I loathe what the Federation has done to my people. If you truly have a p
lan to free them, you will find me an enthusiastic supporter. I can hardly charge you for a chance to be part of that historic day.”

  “It will happen, Headman,” promised Natia. “All of Garth's people are committed to seeing it happen.”

  Chapter 4

  Historic Clues

  The two unicorns glided down into the desert, and Kalina guided Yurl to a wide trough between two massive dunes. She dismounted as soon as the unicorn landed and waited for Garth to dismount off of Kymia.

  “What are we looking for?” asked Garth. “I see no difference in this valley as opposed to any other.”

  “Fakir Aziz said that the lost city of Aranak was not the only treasure buried under the Sands of Eternity,” explained Kalina. “His words puzzled me for quite some time. I tried to imagine what other treasures could be buried, but I know so little about the Siroccan civilization that existed here.”

  “There is another city buried near the coast,” replied Garth. “I believe its name was Cyranak.”

  “True.” Kalina nodded. “That is fairly common knowledge, and I doubt that the Mage would waste his breath by stating the obvious.”

  “Alright,” conceded Garth. “So there is something else beneath the sands, but the Sands of Eternity is a vast desert. Not only do we not know what we are searching for, but we have no idea where to start searching.”

  “That is why I let Tedi and Natia go on ahead,” smiled Kalina. “The days I spent with Sigfrid going over the old maps of Sirocca allowed me to become more familiar with the lost country, and that is what brings us to this barren place.”

  “I am still lost,” sighed Garth. “What do you think is here?”

  “It was the use of the word treasure that threw me off,” Kalina replied, obviously savoring a moment of triumph. “What would be the most precious thing in the world to you if you were stranded right here without your unicorn?”

  “Water,” Garth replied without hesitation. “We are a day's ride from the edge of the desert. Without water we would die.”

  “Exactly,” beamed Kalina. “If the old maps are correct, there was a natural spring here before the Collapse.”

  “Well it isn't here now,” frowned Garth. “The sand is not even damp.”

  “You forget the amount of sand that is here,” replied Kalina. “Remember that the whole city of Aranak is now covered by sand, and some of those buildings were quite tall. I think the spring still exists, but it is deeply buried.”

  “How does that help us?” asked Garth.

  “I plan to uncover it,” grinned Kalina as she motioned for the unicorns to move away. “You should stay near Kymia and Yurl.”

  “You are going to use magic?” frowned Garth. “Won't that be detected?”

  “I am only going to use a modified levitation spell,” stated Kalina. “I doubt that the Federation mages would be monitoring for such a spell, and it will not be very alarming if they are. Stand back so you don't get buried in sand.”

  Garth moved away with the unicorns and turned to watch his wife. Kalina dropped to her hands and knees and closed her eyes. She crawled slowly along the floor of the trough for over half an hour before eventually rising to her feet with a broad smile upon her lips. She opened her eyes and spread her hands wide apart. A small whirlwind appeared on the floor of the desert before her. As the whirlwind grew in size, Garth saw a depression deepening in the sand before Kalina. The whirlwind grew larger and larger, and the top of it bent sideways towards the far dune. Garth watched in amazement as sand began spilling out of the top of the whirlwind and cascading down the side of the dune.

  After half an hour, Garth noticed a change in the texture of the sand cascading onto the dune. The color grew darker, and the sand appeared to clump with moisture. Minutes later, rivulets of water trickled down the face of the dune, but Kalina continued her spell with steadfast determination. After the hour mark had passed, there was more water than sand coming out of the whirlpool, but Kalina showed no sign of ending the spell. Garth grew concerned as he knew that prolonged magic required a great deal of energy from his wife. He mentally debated speaking to her, but he knew that he might destroy her concentration. He bit his lip anxiously and decided to watch a while longer.

  After a few more minutes, Garth began to hear a gurgling sound. He watched with fascination as water began to bubble out of the hole in the desert floor in front of Kalina. A small pond formed around Kalina's feet, and it grew quickly in size until Kalina was standing knee deep in water. As the small lake continued to grow, Kalina dropped her arms and walked towards Garth. He reached out to her, and she grew limp as she felt the security of his arms. Garth lowered his wife to the sand.

  “Are you alright?” he asked with concern.

  “Just a little tired,” she smiled. “A little rest and I will be good to go.”

  “Will the lake exist after we leave?”

  “It will continue to exist for years,” answered the Alcean mage. “Without reinforcing, it will eventually collapse in on itself, but not anytime soon. The water was flowing into an underground river. I had to seal that off with packed sand. Over the years, the water will eat through the wall I created, and the lake will sink into the desert.”

  “Then what is the purpose of all this?” asked Garth.

  “There is a line of these old springs stretching all the way to the Old Aranak Road,” explained Kalina. “While they may not be in a straight line, they are all within a days ride of the previous one. Garth, if I can revive all of the springs, we have a route for the Occans to travel to the Federation.”

  “A highway of sand.” Garth nodded. “The Federation will never be expecting it.” Garth pondered the thought for a moment and then a frown grew over his face. “What if they discover it? The Federation could use it to mount an invasion of the horse countries.”

  “That is not going to happen,” replied Kalina. “I can easily destroy the lakes that I am creating. In fact, I would let their army get deep into the desert and then destroy the lakes ahead and behind them. Their army would die in the desert without any need for battle.”

  “Can't they do the same to the Occans?” asked Garth. “Surely, they have mages capable of destroying an oasis.”

  “Certainly,” agreed Kalina. “That is why we will not reveal what I have done until it is time to attack.”

  * * * *

  One hundred Federation soldiers marched into the Heart of Elfwoods. Their arrival was unannounced and unexpected. The elven runners, who would normally speed the word of the approaching column to the king, had failed to detect the incursion into the Elfwoods. King Elengal knew that only magic could have allowed so many troops to sneak into the Heart. His eyes panned over the soldiers and settled on the K'san in the center of the group. Next to the tall, black priest were two black-cloaked mages. The elven king nodded in understanding of the failure of his scouts. He marched down the steps of the building and approached the group. K'san and his henchmen moved forward towards the king while the officer shouted orders to the soldiers. Groups of soldiers ran off in every direction until there were only twenty left. K'san halted a few paces from the king.

  “To what do we owe the honor of your visit?” King Elengal asked respectfully.

  “No one will be allowed to leave the Heart for the duration of our stay,” announced K'san. “Anyone attempting to leave will be killed. See that your people are informed.”

  K'san turned abruptly and marched towards the hut of the historian. As curious as he was about the reason for the visit, King Elengal was more concerned about the deaths of his people. He shouted for guards, and when they arrived, he issued instructions to spread the word throughout the Heart. In the meantime, K'san and his mages had forced their way into the historian's hut.

  Legaulle's hut was not only his living quarters, but also the only entrance to the archives attached to the rear of his hut. K'san marched through the small hut and smashed open the door to the archives. The mages followed and immediat
ely cast mage lights to illuminate the dark room. A shocked Legaulle stumbled into the archives after the intruders.

  “What are you doing?” shouted Legaulle. “This place is sacred. It is the one place in Elfwoods where you are not allowed. Not even our king is allowed in here.”

  K'san turned and looked at the old historian with contempt. The demonkin's hand moved so swiftly that Legaulle never saw it coming. The historian's body was thrown across the room and through the wall, coming to rest in his small hut. A curious woman had been standing at the door to Legaulle's hut, and she saw the old man's body fall to the floor and slide into the wall. Debris from the shattered inner wall was still floating in the air as a scream ripped from her throat and shattered the quiet village. Elves ran toward the hut and peered in at the broken form of the historian, but none of them dared to enter. King Elengal arrived, and he did enter the historian's hut. He knelt next to Legaulle, and tears came to his eyes. He rose and exited the hut.

  “He lives,” the king said softly to the crowd assembled. “Barely. Get a stretcher and carry him to my bed. Be very careful when moving him. Many bones are broken, and I do not want the short journey to kill him. Someone fetch Eulena.”

  “She is not in the Heart,” one of the women replied. “She has gone to visit her daughter, and we are forbidden to leave the Heart.”

  The king's eyes scanned the crowd, and they landed on Milashar, one of Prince Saratoma's closest friends. “Eulena will not be able to enter the Heart until the soldiers leave, but someone must get out of the Heart and start her journeying here. Legaulle will not live long without her help.”

  “I will bring her back,” vowed Milashar. “Should I also alert the prince to what is going on here?”

  “No,” the king said quickly. “It is best if he is kept ignorant of this. Just bring the mage.”

  The young warrior nodded as he turned and casually walked away from the crowd. King Elengal watched him depart and hoped that he was not sending the man to his death. The arrival of the stretcher caught the king's attention, and Milashar was instantly forgotten. The king watched Legaulle's body carefully placed on the stretcher and moved out of the small hut. He walked alongside the bearers and saw the historian gently placed in the king's bed. Several local healers were already waiting for the old man, and they began to study Legaulle's condition.