Demonkin

by Richard S. Tuttle

  “K’san?” questioned the general.

  Captain Kent nodded. “I thought something was wrong when the priest attacked the elven king. When we carried off the elven women, I understood the need for secrecy. I didn’t expect to be transferred for faithfully following orders, so I didn’t suspect Kyrga of issuing those orders, but no one else would want me dead.”

  “I suspected as much,” the general said softly. “Strip off your uniform so we can dress one of the corpses and get your funeral over with.”

  “You will help me disappear?” pushed the captain. “You promised.”

  “And disappear you will,” smiled the general. “Get that uniform off.”

  * * * *

  The sun was setting as the two men rode the wagon along the Calusa Road and approached the city gates of Calusa. The guards grew attentive as the wagon neared, and one of them waved for it to halt. The guards spread out as the wagon slowed to a halt and an officer stepped forward.

  “Papers,” demanded the officer.

  “I am Garth Shado,” declared the driver as he handed his papers to the officer. “I am a special agent for Sidney Mercado, and this man is Max Caber. He is the new agent for Sidney in Calusa.”

  The officer glanced at the papers and handed them back. “I thought special agents didn’t use wagons. What are you carrying?”

  “Fine Vinaforan wines,” smiled Garth. “You are correct about the nature of special agents, but there are times when a wagon is necessary. These fine wines are worth their weight in gold.”

  “And the bandits let you get through to our city?” the officer asked skeptically.

  “We didn’t see any bandits at all,” answered Garth, “but then again, my reputation is well known, and bottles of wine are hard to carry when you live on the back of a horse. I suspect the bandits would be more interested in gold, or jewels, or something else that they can easily haul along with them.”

  The officer shrugged and nodded with disinterest. He backed away from the wagon and waved for the gates to open. Garth guided the wagon through the gates and into the city. The first thing he noticed was the heavy military presence in the city. It was in stark contrast to his first visit when the old king had died. He drove the wagon to the stables of the Spoke and Wheel Inn where he had first met Sidney Mercado so long ago. He remembered the more than adequate facilities for wagons, and that had not changed. A stableman greeted the Alceans pleasantly and offered to take care of the horses and guard the wagon. Garth tipped the man handsomely and then the Alceans entered the rear door of the inn. The Spoke and Wheel had been a gathering place for caravan merchants, but now the common room was practically empty. The Alceans sat at an empty table and ordered a meal.

  “What now?” asked Max Caber.

  “We get a room for the night,” answered Garth, “but that can wait until after the meal. While you secure the room, I need to find one of Sidney’s contacts in the city.”

  Garth pulled a paper out of his pouch and scanned a list of names that Sidney had given him a long time ago. He found the city of Calusa listed, and there was only one name noted next to it. When the serving girl brought the food, Garth spoke to her before she could leave.

  “Would you happen to know Melvin Nari?”

  “Heard of him,” answered the girl. “Some kind of merchant I think.”

  “Could you tell me where to find him?”

  “Let me ask the innkeeper,” replied the girl as she left for the kitchen.

  The Alceans started eating, but Garth kept a wary eye on the kitchen door without appearing to do so. When he saw the innkeeper stick his head out and look at him, Garth focused his eyes on the floor as if he were lost in thought.

  “What’s happening?” Max whispered.

  “Calusa is a wary city,” Garth replied. “We’re being examined to see if we mean trouble for Melvin Nari.”

  Minutes later, the innkeeper exited the kitchen and walked casually to Garth’s table.

  “I trust the meal is to your liking?” asked the innkeeper.

  “About the same as the last time I was here,” offered Garth.

  “You’ve been here before?” questioned the innkeeper. “Can’t say as I remember you.”

  “When the king died,” Garth replied. “I was here with Sidney Mercado and his son Edmond.”

  “So you were,” the innkeeper said. “I remember you now. You had a couple of women with you at the time, and you hired on with Sidney’s caravan. Looks like you didn’t stay with him long.”

  “Looks can be deceiving,” smiled Garth. “Sidney made me a special agent, and Max here is going to be his agent in Calusa. Sidney said to look up Melvin Nari when I got into the city. Do you know where I can find him?”

  “Special agent, eh? Sidney must have taken quite a liking to you, or maybe you just like to use the names of famous people.”

  Garth pulled out his papers and handed them to the innkeeper. “You are awfully suspicious for an innkeeper. What do you think I am going to do to Melvin Nari? Hit him over the head with one of the rare bottles of Vinaforan wine I am hauling?”

  The innkeeper frowned as he handed the papers back to Garth. “Wine merchants? These papers look genuine enough, but I know that Sidney was leery of you that night, especially with the gold you used to pay for your room.”

  Garth laughed as he realized that the innkeeper must be a close friend of Sidney Mercado. There was no other explanation for the merchant having ever seen the gold that Garth used to pay the innkeeper. “It was the correct weight, even if it was meant to hide its origins. That might be what made Sidney think of using me as a special agent in the first place.”

  “It weighed proper.” The innkeeper nodded. “Why was it melted down?”

  “A trick of the trade,” chuckled Garth. “Sometimes it is wiser to melt the gold and mold it into the shape of something else when you are traveling with a small group as I was. If anyone raids your campsite, they will overlook the very gold they have come to steal. It is, of course, impossible to put the engravings back on the coins.”

  “Ah.” The innkeeper smiled with understanding. “That is clever.”

  “Melvin Nari?” asked the Knight of Alcea.

  “His place is down near the waterfront,” answered the innkeeper. “He has a small shop two blocks from the main docks. He lives upstairs, so you won’t have any trouble finding him.”

  “Excellent,” Garth said as he rose. “Max, why don’t you get us a room for the night while I go and visit with Melvin Nari?”

  “I have plenty of rooms available,” offered the innkeeper. “If you both want to go to Melvin’s, you will still have the pick of a room when you return.”

  “Then I will join you, Garth,” said Max as he rose to his feet.

  Garth nodded to the innkeeper, and the two Alceans left the inn through the front door. Max waited until they were well away from the inn before speaking.

  “Do you think he was trying to get rid of us?”

  “No,” Garth replied. “He was just being helpful. He is Sidney’s friend. When we first came to Calusa, I paid for my lodgings with a chunk of gold. Prince Oscar had no idea what Zaran coins looked like, and we couldn’t expect to spend Alcean coins, so he supplied us with coins melted down. Sidney and the innkeeper must have been suspicious about that.”

  “So I gathered,” Max responded, “but how do you know that they are friends?”

  “Sidney could not have seen the gold unless the innkeeper showed it to him. Plus, I remember Sidney saying that he always stayed at the Spoke and Wheel when he came to Calusa. He would not do so unless he got along with the innkeeper.”

  “Fair enough,” conceded the Ranger. “Here is Nari’s shop. Do you think he will help us?”

  “If he can,” answered Garth. “Sidney has accumulated friends all over Zara. He gave me a list of his most important ones. Melvin Nari is on that list. He will help if he is able to.”

  Max nodded as Garth tried the door
to the shop. It was locked. Garth knocked on the door and waited. After a few moments, the door cracked open and an old man stuck his head out.

  “I am Garth Shado,” declared the Alcean. “I am a special agent for Sidney Mercado, and I am looking for Melvin Nari. Are you him?”

  “You have papers?” asked the old man.

  Garth nodded and handed the papers to him. The old man squinted as he held the papers close to his eyes and held a candle up to shed light on them. Eventually he nodded and handed the papers back to Garth. He swung the door open and beckoned the two men inside.

  “How is Sidney?” asked the old man as he closed the door and locked it.

  “He is well,” Garth replied. “He isn’t traveling quite so much these days, but he is in good health.”

  “Little reason to travel these days,” frowned the old man. “I am Melvin Nari. What can I do for you?”

  “My associate is Max Caber,” Garth replied with a wave towards the Ranger. “His task is to set up a warehouse in Calusa for Sidney. I was hoping that you might be able to help us locate one that is appropriate.”

  “A warehouse in Calusa?” echoed Melvin. “That is rather strange considering the political situation here. Does Sidney know something about the future of Calusa that the rest of us do not?”

  “Sidney is optimistic about the future,” Garth smiled. “I did not exactly ask him why he felt that way, but he has a good sense of things like that.”

  “Indeed he does,” chuckled Melvin. “Well, he could not have picked a better time to buy a warehouse in Calusa. There are plenty of them available, and no one seems to be in a hurry to buy one.”

  “You will help then?” asked Max.

  “Certainly,” replied Melvin. “I will take you to see them all tomorrow. I will also arrange the purchase for Sidney when you decide which one you want. By tomorrow night you will have your warehouse.”

  “Excellent,” smiled Garth. “We will let you get to sleep then. We are staying at the Spoke and Wheel.”

  “Of course,” nodded Melvin. “I will call for you early.”

  Melvin showed the Alceans out and then locked the shop. Garth and Max walked back to the inn.

  “Can you stay another day?” asked Max.

  “I will stay until we have the Door in place,” answered Garth, “no matter how long that takes. I don’t think anyone will disturb a wagon full of wine, but let’s check on it before we go up to the room.”

  Chapter 32

  Unborn City

  The small group of elves gathered in the open area in front of the king’s building in the Heart. King Elengal turned slowly as he reviewed the distant ring of elven warriors securing the privacy of the meeting. He nodded with approval and turned to look questioningly at Liliana.

  “No one will hear the words spoken here today,” promised the elven mage. “I guarantee that.”

  Prince Saratoma raised an eyebrow at the woman’s words. “You are using magic of some kind?”

  The elven mage merely nodded.

  “I thought elven magic was limited to healing?” pressed the prince.

  “Times have changed,” replied Liliana. “Elven mages have long known other types of magic, but we have willfully avoided such uses to hide our knowledge from the empire. The spells were passed down from one generation to the next in secrecy, waiting for the day that we would need them. That day has finally arrived.”

  “Liliana will be gathering our mages and instructing them,” declared the king. “I have full faith in her, and her duties are not a concern for this meeting. Let us address the real issues that we have gathered to discuss.”

  “I mean no disrespect,” frowned Prince Saratoma, “but why Liliana? Why not her mother?”

  “Eulena is no longer in the Elfwoods,” the king said softly. “Liliana has picked up the mantle of head mage.”

  Prince Saratoma stared unbelievingly at his grandfather. To hear the king discuss the leaving of an elf so casually made him shake his head in an attempt to restore reality. He would have expected King Elengal to go into a rage over an escape from the Elfwoods.

  “Times have changed,” Morro said sympathetically to the prince as he placed a reassuring hand on his friend’s shoulder.

  “Indeed they have,” smiled the king as he turned to look at Prince Rigal. “You have some concerns about getting the elven children into the tunnel, Prince Rigal. What are they?”

  “Tracks,” responded the elven prince from Glendor. “We are going to be bringing hundreds of children through the Elfwoods, and we will be in a hurry to do so. The children will not be trained in the ways of elves, and their tracks will easily be found. We need to find a way to avoid leading the Federation troops to the dwarven tunnel.”

  The group sat silently for a moment before Morro’s eyes brightened with a thought.

  “Why can’t we use a Door?” he asked. “We already have one on the Isle of Despair. Why not just bring its matching Door into the Elfwoods?”

  “Garth would never agree to that,” frowned Prince Rigal, “and rightfully so. Our knowledge of the Doors must be kept secret from the Federation for as long as possible, and the rescue of the elven children is only the first step in this war. We cannot risk having a Door where the Federation might find it.”

  “I agree,” stated King Elengal. “We not only have to avoid leaving a track towards the dwarven tunnel, we need to lay a false path for the Federation to follow.”

  “Towards Shark Point,” agreed Morro. “It will have to look as if thousands of elves raced in great haste to reach the sea.”

  The group grew quiet again as the elves pondered the problems. Prince Saratoma glanced at the other elves and shook his head in frustration. As his eyes scanned the group, he caught sight of the unicorns that Prince Rigal and his men rode to the Heart.

  “Can we get more unicorns for the elves?” he asked the prince from Glendor.

  “How many are you thinking of?” asked Prince Rigal.

  “Enough to carry the children from one point in Elfwoods to another,” answered Prince Saratoma. “They would not only eliminate the tracks of the children, but they would also speed the arrival of the children at the dwarven tunnel. We would only need them for a very short period of time.”

  “And by flying only over the Elfwoods, it would leave them undetected by the Federation,” added Lyron. “I think it would work.”

  “They could also be used to create the false trail,” offered the historian. “A couple hundred racing unicorns would tear up the forest floor if we asked them to. They would leave a wide path of raw dirt from the Heart to Shark Point.”

  “Complete with hoof prints,” frowned Gerant. “That would not be wise.”

  “The hoof prints can be stripped away,” declared Liliana.

  “Magically?” asked the king. “Wouldn’t that be detected?”

  “A small spell of wind could smooth out the raw dirt,” answered Liliana. “It would be a very local spell and not detected in Despair. Once the dirt is prepared, a couple dozen elves could run along the trail and give the impression that thousands have fled from the Heart.”

  “And then fly the unicorns to safety,” brightened Prince Saratoma. “I like it.”

  “And why would the soldiers believe that we swam to our deaths at Shark Point?” questioned the historian. “It makes no sense. Why go to the trouble to free our children only to commit mass suicide?”

  “That is the beautiful part of the plan,” grinned Morro. “The Federation will not think that we have committed suicide. They will believe that we have fled Zara in ships. Their navy will be searching the islands south of Zara while we are hiding comfortably not far from the heart of their empire.”

  * * * *

  Max Caber straightened up and backed away from the Door in his office. A broad smile split his face as he nodded approvingly.

  “You would have made a fine carpenter, Garth.”

  Garth frowned as a painful memory flooded into
his mind. “I started out my life as a lumberman,” he said softly. “It seems so long ago, almost as if it was someone else’s memories that I am viewing.”

  “Life doesn’t always turn out the way we want it to,” the Ranger replied sympathetically as he lifted his belongings and placed them on the ancient desk he had inherited with the old warehouse. “Where are you off to next?”

  Garth stared at the Ranger’s belongings as he replied. “I have two more Doors to deliver. They will be a bit harder to get into place. One has to go into Herinak Castle, and the other needs to go to Ur. I am not willing to let our Occan hosts know about the Doors just yet.”

  “You think there might be more spies up there?”

  “I do.” Garth nodded as he fingered a black cloak that was among the Ranger’s belongings. “Since when did you take to wearing a cloak?”

  “I haven’t,” answered the Ranger. “It was a gift from Fakir Aziz.”

  That answer immediately piqued Garth’s curiosity. He pulled the cloak free from the pack and held it up to examine it. “It is finely crafted. Try it on.”

  Max shrugged with indifference and picked up the cloak. He pulled it on and humorously pulled the hood forward to cover his face. “It is a little long in the sleeves, but I can alter that. Should I cast a spell on you now?” he quipped.

  “You do look a bit like a black-cloak,” chuckled the Knight of Alcea, “but I do not think that is its purpose. What did Fakir say when he gave it to you?”

  “Nothing about the cloak,” answered the Ranger. “We were discussing relations between the Rhodans and the Karaminians, and the conversation centered on that problem.”

  “He must have said something,” frowned Garth. “Think about it.”

  “There is nothing to think about,” replied Max. “I remember the conversation well enough. He warned me that I would probably die in Calusa. Perhaps the cloak was meant as a way to forestall that, but he didn’t say.”

  Garth sighed. “That is unlike the Mage. He normally gives some clue about things that are important. Was your meeting with him interrupted?”