by Joe Jackson
They passed through the city quietly but quickly, afraid to be exposed for too long with a brys with them. It was clean and tidy, and its citizenry was obviously wealthy. After two plazas they came upon Zalkar’s temple on the left side of the avenue, and Kari dashed in quickly. She had only to point out her wounded wing to the acolytes within, and they called upon one of the priests to come minister his healing arts to her. Kari sat on a bench and glanced briefly at Erik and Makauric, who entered after a short delay outside. She wondered briefly what the issue was and whether they’d had an argument out of her earshot, but then she figured it was more likely Makauric had hesitated to enter a temple to Zalkar.
Two of the human acolytes inspected her wound and then held the severed edges of the bone together. Kari gritted her teeth in pain, and then the priest and applied his blue-glowing hand to the broken bone. Kari screamed in shock as the edges of the bone immediately frayed and then knitted, and a mass of black scar tissue formed over the exposed area. A shiver coursed through her in the wake of the pain which, though it dissipated quickly, left her with a short burst of adrenaline running through her veins. She stood up and flapped her wing; the pain was now but a phantom memory. When she glanced over at Erik, though, she could see he still felt guilty that the wound was his doing.
Kari thanked the clergy, but when they noticed the brys among them, they fixed the demonhunters with incredulous stares. “What is this?” the priest asked. “You bring a demon into the very house of the demonhunter patron?”
Kari beheld the older human’s impatience and could tell he wasn’t as angry as his words made it seem. His cool blue eyes studied her evenly and he dismissed the acolytes so that he could speak with the guests alone. The younger humans moved to the rear of the temple, and the older robed human folded his arms across his chest as he waited for an explanation. Erik took a seat on one of the horseshoe-shaped benches near the temple’s center and, after a moment, Makauric did likewise.
“This…demon is the reason we succeeded in our mission here,” Kari explained quietly. “He guided us through the southern rainforest and put us in contact with a tribe of czarikk who’d been attacked by a sylinth. Then he led us to the sylinth’s lair so we could destroy it. I know the Unyielding despises his kind, but this brys has earned both our trust and respect.”
The human looked to Makauric for a minute, and he rubbed his chain thoughtfully. He nodded and met Kari’s eyes. “I understand,” he said. “So you destroyed a sylinth, fulfilling Zalkar’s task for you here on the island?”
“Yes, Master,” Kari said, and she and the priest moved to sit on the bench facing her partner and the brys. “We have some questions about it. Do you have any underworld records?”
“We do,” the priest said. He turned toward the acolytes at the temple’s rear and raised his voice, asking them to bring something called the Anthraxis Council Codex. Based on the name, Kari understood that it was obviously a record of the council of demon kings. The priest looked back to her and then Erik and gave a muted smile. “Forgive me. I am Master Tanner, ranking priest of our lord here in Talvor. I regret that I am not an experienced healer or high-ranking priest of our lord, or I would have done a better job with your wound.”
Kari waved off the comment. “I appreciate your work,” she said. “I’m Karian Vanador, Shield of the Heavens, and this is my partner Erijinkor Tesconis, Demonhunter. The brys is called Makauric.”
“Makauric?” the priest repeated, his brows arching. “Ah, I should have guessed. We’ve heard of this particular brys before: he ranges the forest and the savannah nearby, and we have had no reports of trouble from him at all. Unusual for one of his kind, if he will forgive my saying so.”
Makauric made a dismissive gesture but said nothing, and Kari had to smile. “He certainly is unusual,” she said. “I wish all of his brothers were like him.”
That drew a short-lived smile from the brys, but it disappeared as quickly as it had come. Soon one of the young acolytes approached with the black book his superior had asked for. The younger human handed the book to the priest before returning to his duties, and Master Tanner began to flip through it. “So, you said it was a sylinth?” Tanner asked. “Killing a sylinth is quite an impressive feat, even for one of your rank. This codex will only list the demon if it was a prince or a very high-ranking noble. I don’t suppose it happened to give you a name?”
“Actually, it did,” Kari answered. “Its name was Ressallk. It said it was ‘the greatest of its father’s sons,’ and claimed to be the son of Sekassus the Calculating.”
The priest regarded her with wide eyes as she spoke, but then he shook his head when she finished. “No, whoever this Ressallk was, he was not Sekassus’ firstborn,” Tanner said, and he began flipping through the tome. He came to a page with a picture of a massive snake-like creature, though unlike the sylinth they had fought, the one pictured had a humanoid body. Kari read the caption below the picture: King Sekassus the Calculating, the Cobra Lord, Sixth of the Council. Her underworld historical and hierarchal knowledge was far from extensive, but she did know that Celigus Chinchala was only the seventh on the Council. She thought about how strong Chinchala was, and then tried to imagine the strength of the one above him in station on the Council.
“Had you fought Amnastru – Sekassus’ firstborn – we would likely not be having this conversation,” Tanner said with a solemn gaze. He continued to flip through the tome past the entry for Sekassus, and at last came to another that had no drawing beside it. “Here he is: Ressallk, eleventh-born son of the king, lieutenant in the king’s army.”
“I might have guessed,” Kari said. “He didn’t seem very strong or experienced.”
Tanner regarded her with interest. “Though he was still fairly young for one of his kind,” he said, “killing a sylinth – let alone a sylinthian prince – is, as I said, an impressive feat. Did you learn anything of his intentions or reason for being here?”
“Not exactly,” she answered. “He murdered the children of the czarikk, and they said he was trying to get them to bend knee to him. We think he might’ve been involved with Gaswell’s sudden uprising, but we’re not really sure how ‘recruiting’ the czarikk would’ve fit into that, given Gaswell’s plans. How much do we need to worry about revenge from the Cobra Lord?”
The priest sighed. “That is hard to say,” he said. “Sekassus has lost several sons in his time, but unlike his more hot-tempered counterparts on the Council, he is slow to react. His plans oftentimes take years to enact and come to fruition, but I will pass on word for those in the proper places to keep an eye on him and an ear bent to his plans. In the meantime, I would not worry too much about retaliation.”
“That’s a relief,” Erik commented.
Tanner nodded. “I will pass along word of your success to your superiors in DarkWind, as was directed,” he said. “Is there anything else I can do for you?”
“I’m just curious how you run a temple in the city if Gaswell has so many sympathizers here,” Kari commented.
The priest waved off the comment, making an obvious effort to not laugh. “They talk tough, but like the man they consider following, they are cowards at heart,” he said. “I see they failed to keep you from entering their city…even with a brys among you.”
“Even still, I don’t think it’s a good idea to stay here,” Erik said, rising to his feet, and his concerns were echoed by a nod from their brys companion.
“Yea, that’s true,” Kari said, and she saluted the priest. “Thank you, Master Tanner.”
The priest rose to his feet and bowed before the demonhunters with a warm smile. “Be safe in your journeys,” he said. “As I said, I will pass along word of your success.”
“Farewell, Master,” Erik said, and he led Kari and the brys from the temple. Afternoon was fading fast, so they made their way swiftly from the city. Fortunately, no trouble found them on their way out, and soon the grasses of the savannah were beneath their feet a
gain. When twilight fell over them they set up camp under one of the sparse trees once more. They shared what little dried venison was left from their stay at the cave and enjoyed the meal together.
Makauric told them they could reach the czarikk in two days if they forced themselves to march into the night, and they agreed that it would be best even if it exhausted them. They headed toward the jungle the next morning and arrived in czarikk territory late on the second day, where they were met by a patrol that recognized them. The patrol allowed them to pass through hastily, and they arrived in the village just after sundown, when the evening meal was about to be served. Savarras greeted them when they entered the center of the village, and he invited them to sit with him and the chieftain on the logs near the central fire pit.
Kari took a seat and noted the joyous expressions on the faces of the lizard people, and she found that they were quite contagious. She thought perhaps they’d felt the sylinth’s demise just as Makauric had, but after a minute she thought better of that and turned toward Savarras. “You spoke with Sakkrass,” she said in elvish to the shaman, and his smile spread wider.
“Yes. Several days ago, when we fire danced, we felt his presence among us once again, and we knew you had succeeded,” he said. “Sakkrass said that when you performed the fire dance, his spirit came upon you, and because he could not communicate through me, he did so through you instead. You have experienced something even I, his high shaman, have not.”
Kari remembered Sakkrass speaking through her, but only now did she grasp the true importance of the event. Not only was this other peoples’ god quite real and benevolent, but he’d trusted Kari to carry his spirit into battle and fight for him. She put her hand to her chest and smiled, and the happiness of the czarikk around her warmed her to the core. “It was my honor to carry your deity’s spirit into battle,” she said, doing her best to convey her joy to the holy man. “I know that slaying the sylinth has not eased the pain of your loss, but your people should be safe, and prosper in your next mating cycle.”
Savarras nodded and his smile did not dissipate. “Indeed. We received further blessing from our lord as well,” he said. He looked across the circle and beckoned for someone to approach. After a moment, a young female czarikk approached holding a hatchling cradled to her chest, and she knelt down before the shaman. “This is Aszera and her child. She hid her egg from the family, as she is not mated and was afraid of being shunned.”
Kari studied Aszera, though her eyes were downturned and she wouldn’t meet Kari’s gaze. “Her egg survived because it was not with those of the rest of the tribe,” Kari reasoned.
Savarras nodded and laid his hand on Aszera’s shoulder. “Yes. What would normally bring shame has instead brought joy to the family. This is a blessing from Sakkrass,” he said, and upon hearing their deity’s name, the female looked up and managed a smile, though she didn’t appear to understand what he was saying to Kari. “We have awaited your return, she who has made us safe from the sylinth. Tonight we will fire dance for our lord, and you will participate in the child’s naming ceremony.”
Kari bowed her head politely. “I would be honored,” she said. Savarras translated their conversation quickly into his sibilant language for the female before them and his chief. Kari took the opportunity to likewise inform her companions of what was being said, and Erik smiled. Even Makauric’s eyes betrayed one, though his face remained neutral.
They shared in the evening meal with their czarikk hosts, and soon after the meal was finished, a massive bonfire was started in the central fire pit. The dancers did not immediately begin their ritual praise to their lord, though, but waited as Savarras called the female with the hatchling to stand before him and Oshasis. He invited Kari to stand with them, and together the four stood by the fire while the entire tribe watched.
Aszera dropped to her knees and held the hatchling in both hands over her head and toward the shaman, and he made several gestures over the squirming babe as he spoke in their sibilant language. The female said something in return, and Savarras smiled briefly at Kari before motioning for her to take the child from its mother. The demonhunter did so after only a slight hesitation, and held the child up before the shaman and chieftain while the holy man repeated his gesturing and spoke once more in their tongue.
Savarras met Kari’s questioning gaze when he finished the ritual, and he said, “Aszera has asked to name her hatchling in your honor. If you agree to this, then simply kneel before Oshasis as she has done, and hold the child up to him in offering.”
Kari blushed, but after meeting the girl’s gaze, she knelt beside her and held the child up in both hands, offering the hatchling to the tribe’s chief. Savarras said something in the czarikk tongue, and Kari caught her name among his words. After a moment, Oshasis smiled and took the child from Kari’s hands, and he held it high above his head in a careful grip. He bellowed in a loud voice, and again Kari heard her name mentioned in whatever was being said. When the chief had finished his declaration, the tribe cheered and its females let forth a hissing whistle that Kari found intriguing.
“The chief has welcomed the child among the people, and she will bear your name,” Savarras said to Kari as she rose to her feet. Kari bowed her head with a smile. “Oshasis also wishes to make you and your companions family, that you will always be welcome among us should your travels bring you back into our homeland.”
Kari found her eyes a bit misty. “Your people honor us, and we give thanks for your hospitality and friendship,” she said.
Aszera bowed before the demonhunter and said what were obvious thanks in her language. Aszera bowed again to Kari, her chief, and the shaman, and then she made her way back among her people, who welcomed her with touches and hugs.
Savarras turned to speak with Oshasis, and Kari sat down beside Erik and Makauric and began to explain what had happened. Erik gave her shoulder a squeeze and pulled her in for a hug after a moment. It was clear he was very proud of her, both for slaying the demon and the simple act of diplomacy she had accomplished with a people whose language she did not speak. “Are you going to dance with them tonight?” Erik asked.
“Yes,” Kari answered. “Savarras told me that when I danced with them, their god saw and put his vengeful spirit upon me to help with our mission. So I’m going to dance with them to say thank you for his strength. And you two will get to see me naked again.”
Erik laughed, and both he and Kari were surprised when the brys did as well. Makauric seemed embarrassed when fixed with both of their amused gazes, and Kari was amazed to see so much expression from the normally unreadable creature. “I would be lying if I said I did not enjoy that,” he said quietly.
Kari patted her partner’s shoulder. “You know, if the two of you put your duties aside for a while, maybe you could find your own women,” she said. “Then you can stare at your own naked mate instead of someone else’s.”
Erik snorted with a dismissive wave, and Makauric shrugged. “I have nothing to offer one,” the brys said.
“You might be surprised,” Kari countered. “Maybe there’s a reason your brothers are all on the west side of the island. Maybe there’s a lot of rir rangers who patrol those woods, and it’s possible they’ve let your brothers into their circles.”
The brys didn’t seem at all convinced. “Perhaps,” he offered, but let the matter drop.
“Maybe I’ll try to find whoever Annabelle Sol’ridachi is and ask to court her,” Erik said dryly, trying to suppress a chuckle. Kari fixed him with wide eyes. “I’ve been meaning to ask you who that is since you mentioned the name.”
Kari shook her head, took a deep breath, and sighed uneasily. “Honestly, you don’t even want to know,” she said, glancing off into the depths of the village as she beat back the memories of her past. “She was a friend of mine once, but…”
Kari went silent and Erik regarded her curiously. “Now you’ve got my curiosity piqued,” he said. “You’ll have to explain some ti
me when you feel up to it.”
Kari gave a noncommittal shrug and rose to her feet. She removed her armor and clothes as the czarikk began painting their dancers in preparation for the ceremony. To her surprise, no females came to paint her. Instead, Oshasis and his high shaman took up the task. The designs they painted were different, and it took Kari only a few moments to recognize the symbols and glyphs she’d seen carved and painted within the shaman’s teepee. At first Kari was nervous about having the two touching her body so intimately, but she relaxed and reminded herself that they would not violate the sanctity of their ceremony.
She waited by her friends, her body painted in a beautiful array of orange, yellow, red, and blue symbols and markings whose meaning was lost on her. She was confused when the other czarikk finished their painting but did not dance, and after a few moments she realized the eyes of every member of the tribe were upon her. She bit her lip anxiously, but then she stepped close to the fire, turned to her right, and stomped her foot twice as she initiated the dance. She repeated the dance that she had performed for so many hours on her first visit, trying to stay as true to the czarikk ritual as possible, and if she made any mistakes, no one made any sound or move to correct her. Once she completed the first circuit, a male joined her, and then a second, then a female followed by another female, and so it went with each pass that four more dancers joined them. The voices of the tribe rose in exultation and Kari felt the heat of the fire pass through her skin and to her very soul. Soon, all of the dancers had joined her in the ceremony.
Kari felt the presence of Sakkrass in her mind, just as she had the moment he spoke through her in battle with the sylinth. In her primal core she felt his scaled body press against her as their minds danced together. She continued her dance around the fire to the ebb and flow of the sibilant voices of the czarikk, and she moved in perfect harmony with the dancers who had performed the sacred rite for years. In her mind it was only she and Sakkrass that danced around the fire, and her body reacted to his mental touch. Theirs was not a dance of lovers, but a dance of protector and protected: Sakkrass’ body pressed tight against her in her mind, and it was as if he was wrapping her in his scaly flesh to protect her from harm. His reptilian snout touched lightly at the base of her neck where Grakin had kissed her innumerable times, but Sakkrass did not kiss her. He sniffed lightly at her skin, and she could feel him smile. Gently he released her and she spun away from him, and then she came to a stop and stared across at him.
