by Joe Jackson
Kari nodded again, but before he continued, Eli glanced briefly at the bar patrons. They seemed to have decided to give the demonhunter her privacy, but when he turned back to Kari, Eli leaned in a little closer to keep his voice down. “Over the course of our work with Bosimar, I learned that many of the so-called priests of the demon kings really serve other powers: usually deities that have common goals with the priests’ respective kings. Ciceria was chosen to come to our world because she was powerful enough to tear a hole through the barriers that protect Citaria from underworld invaders. The thing of it is: she didn’t draw that power from Sekassus. He wouldn’t share that kind of power with a servant, not even to set foot on this world. Bosimar explained that for Sekassus to grant her that kind of power – if he even could – he would’ve weakened himself so much that any of the pantheon’s avatars could’ve sent him right back to the underworld.”
“So Ciceria served a god?” Kari concluded, and Eli nodded silently and took a sip of his ale. “Do you have any idea which? Was it one of the kings that also serve as Koryon deities – Sheila or Augrus?”
Eli waved off her suggestions. “No. Sekassus would’ve never accepted a servant that also served another demon king; Jason was quite certain of that. He explained that virtually none of the demon kings are on friendly terms with the others, and that they would never share servants or power with another. If Ciceria ever told Jason who she served, he didn’t tell the rest of us. But when she was killed, we gave Jason her deity’s holy symbol and he kept it in his office, which makes me think he wanted to find out who it was.”
Kari pursed her lips, disappointed to hear that a good lead had been killed. “So Ciceria is dead?” she asked.
Eli nodded solemnly and his eyes slipped away, and Kari wondered at the reaction. It was clear he had cared about the woman, which told Kari that the situation had been even more convoluted than she’d suspected. It was one thing for Eli and his companions to have kept an eye on Ciceria to foil her plans, but the thought that they had cultivated anything remotely like a friendship with her meant that things had been far more complicated. It led Kari to wonder what Ciceria was like. For everything Kari knew, the syrinthians were all vicious servants of Sekassus bent to the demon king’s destructive will. The look on Eli’s face, though, said otherwise, and Kari understood that Ciceria had been something else. She considered the situation and the possible implications, and Aeligos’ words concerning Jason’s journal made a little more sense.
“Yes,” Eli answered with a wistful sigh after taking a few moments to compose himself. “She sabotaged Sekassus’ plan to invade, but it cost her her life. If you go through Bosimar’s things, you can probably find the holy symbol I’m talking about.”
Kari considered the tribal pendant she had found and wondered if it might’ve been the very symbol Eli was talking about. “Wait, but if she was Sekassus’ high priestess and she sabotaged his invasion plan…are you saying not all of the syrinthians are loyal to Sekassus?”
“I know for a fact they’re not,” he said. “Before she died, Ciceria asked us to find and protect her daughter, who was still in the underworld. But at the risk of sounding like a typical member of my race, the underworld is not someplace I’m tempted to ever visit, not even to find the daughter of a friend. That’s something your Order would have to take care of itself – but, given that Bosimar hid most of this stuff from the Order, I’m not sure why you ever would.”
“Damnit,” Kari muttered. “So that was what your service to Bosimar was all about? Helping Ciceria sabotage Sekassus’ plans?”
The half-corlyps male shrugged. “There was a lot more to it than that, but that was the most important part of it all,” he said. He glanced around at the other bar patrons briefly. “The commoners don’t know just how close Sekassus came to setting foot on this world, and that was the whole reason behind Jason’s secrecy. Make sure you understand what it is I’ve been trying to tell you: not all of the syrinthians are your enemies.”
“You said they’re not all loyal to Sekassus, but that doesn’t mean they’re our friends.”
Eli gave an impatient wave of his hand and looked around again before he met her gaze more intently. “They’re not demons, Karian,” he said. “That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you. They’re just people that are unfortunate enough to live in the underworld and end up enslaved to the demon kings. That’s why they keep showing up here: they’re not demons, so they can cross the barriers and start the work of their kings here. But they’re just patsies.”
Kari’s eyes lit up. “So they wouldn’t be detected by divinations to find demons?” she asked, and Eli shook his head negatively. Her mind raced across her encounter in Little Gray’s room that had only briefly preceded her encounter with the syrinthian assassin. She fought off the urge to panic, and she recalled Kyrie saying that whatever was in his room – assuming there had been anything – wasn’t malevolent. She had to trust in the veracity of Kyrie’s divinations. Kari composed herself and noted that Eli was watching her intently. “How much more do you know about them?”
“About the syrinthians? Not all that much, other than that they’re no harder to kill than anyone else,” he said, and he patted the head of his hammer. “But if you want to understand the syrinthians, you’ll want to start by learning about their priestesses. They’re the ones that rule their people – or at least, that guide their people under Sekassus’ rule. And if you want to know about how their priesthood works, you’ll want to talk to Danilynn. She’d know a lot more about their faith, and maybe even who or whatever that faith was placed in.”
“Danilynn Stahlorr?” Kari queried, and Eli nodded. “That name sounds so familiar; is she a priestess of Garra Ktarra?”
Eli nodded again and a smile crept onto his face. “Yea, fures-rir girl that wore this blackened chain armor with green eyes on it,” he said.
Kari was pretty sure Danilynn had served with the Thirty-Fifth Light Division during the Apocalypse. There had been so many soldiers in the brigade that she didn’t get to know many of them personally outside of her subordinate officers and many of the serilis-rir that also served with the unit. She remembered the priests and wizards of the unit fairly well, though, as they had helped bring down part of a mountain to crush Seril’s forces when liberating the city of Atrice early in the War. It left Kari to wonder where Danilynn would’ve gone after the War. She supposed it was possible the woman had settled down in Atrice, or perhaps at the grand temple of Garra Ktarra in the Holy City of Sarchelete.
“So, is there anything else you can tell me about the snakes or why they might have an assassin creeping around?” she asked Eli at length.
The half-corlyps shook his head. “Nothing that would be of any importance to you right now,” he said with a shrug. “I think I know enough about Sekassus to think he wouldn’t send an assassin after you unless he was really, really angry though. So unless you did something to him that far outshines what we did, I’d guess this snake assassin is after something else entirely. I have some things back at The Satin Palace that I can go through to see if I’ve forgotten anything that might be relevant. You’re welcome to stay the night there, since it’s getting late. I’ll have a private room cleaned out for you.”
“How much will that kind of favor cost each of us?” Kari asked.
Eli waved off the query. “I own the place, it won’t cost us a thing,” he said, and he smirked when Kari's brows rose. “It’s a long story.”
Kari nodded but knew that now wasn’t the proper time or place to push for details on something that was relatively unimportant. The two finished their drinks, then headed out to the darkened streets of Lajere, and proceeded back to The Satin Palace under the dancing firelight of the city’s street lamps.
Chapter VI – Dark Seduction
The Satin Palace had virtually every creature comfort Kari could think of, and Eli gave the demonhunter what she assumed was one of the nicest rooms available. Located on t
he top floor, its wall to wall carpet made her feel as though she were floating when she walked across it, and the room had a large makeup table with a triple mirror. Kari could see the reflection of the bed behind her, which was easily large enough for four people to sleep in comfortably, and it was stacked high with thick blankets and overstuffed pillows. All of it was a little on the gaudy side, the color scheme of the room was made up of a blend of deep purple and crimson shades, but Kari was grateful for the gesture from its proprietor.
Kari sat in front of the triple mirror brushing her hair as it dried, and she wondered what Eli would’ve been like to adventure with. When she’d spoken to the bath matron, Marissa, the exotically beautiful human woman had told Kari that Eli owned the building, but not the girls who worked in it. He provided them a place to work and a full-time security detail that he took a personal role in, but other than a small monthly rental fee, Eli apparently had little to do with the girls or their work. Kari was curiously impressed but not surprised when even Marissa had mentioned that Eli was more like what she’d expect from a half-guardian than a half-corlyps.
Kari’s eyes wandered to the reflected image of the bed behind her and she recalled the similar furnishing in the bedchambers of King Suler Tumureldi, her one-time master and lover. She recalled the scandalous reception her relationship with the king had garnered, and how the people of the shakna-rir capital of Aurun Ch’Gurra and the staff of the palace had taken some time to warm to Kari and her relations with the king. Many of the common people and even Tumureldi’s personal staff had suspected Kari of attempting to usurp the throne that awaited Tumureldi’s daughter, since shakna-rir kingdoms were matriarchal. Many thought that Kari’s goal was to take the throne for herself: she would’ve outranked Suler had the two become mates. Over time, as they learned Kari was dying and also unable to bear children – not to mention completely uninterested in ruling a kingdom – the shakna-rir people had come to accept Kari and her relationship with their monarch.
Kari put down the brush, walked over to the bed, and slid naked under the soft blankets. She clutched them tightly to herself, remembering how special her nine months with Tumureldi had been. Though she had initially gone to Aurun Ch’Gurra to investigate rumored attacks by demons, she soon decided to stay there to learn mastery of the incredible scimitars she had come into possession of. She’d trained directly with the king, and began learning the fighting style Tumureldi had created, but it had only been a matter of time before Suler began visiting her bedchamber for more than theorycraft. Kari had never understood it: she never thought of herself as attractive in her previous life, and it wasn’t until she was told so by Kris Jir’tana, Grakin, and her now in-laws that she had a simple, but deep, beauty that she began to see herself in such a light. Suler Tumureldi had seen that simple beauty as well, especially in Kari’s character. Still, Kari’s breathing was heavy in her ears as she recalled how afraid she’d been the first time he visited her bed. She’d been haunted by the memories of her father’s abuse and expected that Tumureldi would do the same to her if she failed to please him.
She thought of Grakin, then, and how his gentle and caring nature was so much like Suler had proven to be in the bedroom. As a weapon master, Tumureldi was an incredibly demanding and thorough teacher: he pushed Kari to her limits day after day and took no excuses – not even her illness – into consideration when impressing his skills upon her. He accepted no less than perfection from his sole student, and Kari rewarded his diligence by becoming as clay and allowing herself to be molded to his will. She went to him an accomplished fighter, trained by the headmasters of the Demonhunter Academy, but Suler had turned her into a weapon: a fighter with a grasp of tactics so firm that she fought virtually on instinct. As the weeks passed, they grew closer, until one night he visited her bedchamber and made his case to become more than just her teacher.
Kari’s heartbeat quickened as she recalled how she had consented only because she was afraid he would turn her away from his training if she refused. It didn’t take Suler long to realize she was not just unwilling but terrified of being with him, and that was when her relationship with him truly changed. He left her bed and her chamber with apologies, and told her that if and when she was ready, she needed only tell him so. His gentlemanly nature and the fact that he continued to train her as though nothing had happened helped to melt away her fears, and their relationship as master and student only grew stronger. It took Kari a couple of weeks to decide she wanted to be with him, and during those weeks her training continued just as it had before. When she told him her decision, he accepted her as his mistress – not his mate – and he began taking her to his own bedchamber, much to the irritation of his subjects. Kari laughed when she recalled the fact that the only person who had readily accepted her relationship with Suler was the princess – on whose behalf everyone else was so defensive.
The room was quiet around her and Kari started to doze off in the soft warmth of the bed. Her thoughts turned to little Gwendolyn Tumureldi, the princess whose crown the people had feared Kari was trying to usurp. Kari never got a chance to meet the queen, Yesara Tumureldi, who’d been killed in an accident a couple of years before Kari’s arrival in Aurun Ch’Gurra, but by all accounts, the princess was like her mother in nearly every way. The girl was beautiful, brilliant, and innately courageous – a trait Kari attributed to her father – and even at the tender age of eight had already possessed a poise and grace that many adult monarchs lacked. Even with the entire palace staff under her command as the heiress apparent, Gwendolyn had never taken to being a brat or abusing her power. Kari recalled how the princess had looked up to her, even once going so far as to ask Kari to marry Suler so he would be happy again, and to serve as a general when Gwendolyn came of age and took the throne.
History, too, spoke very highly of Gwendolyn: the day she turned eighteen, her father abdicated the throne to her as promised, and the young woman began a very long and prosperous reign. From what Kari had heard from Typhonix and read in some of his books, Gwendolyn was the queen when Celigus Chinchala conquered Terrassia, and she continued to serve with distinction and grace even with the demon king as her emperor. The one thing Kari found confusing and distressing was the fact that Suler himself had disappeared – much like Kari had – only a few years after abdicating the throne. Kari had to wonder if he’d been murdered to prevent him from ever taking the throne again, or whether he might’ve even died fighting against the conquering demon king. History said only that he disappeared into the forested northlands, serving in the Order of the Western Star – the shakna-rir ranger corps – and was never heard from again.
Kari felt an ache as her thoughts of Suler soon turned to thoughts of Grakin and how deeply she missed him after only a few days. It was strange how different Grakin and Suler were and yet how alike they seemed to her soul and her heart. She chuckled bitterly, considering that both of her deepest relationships were of the type that could never last: one with a king, the other with a dying man. Kari wondered if she could find some way to save her mate: to spare him from the coming agony and certain doom since, after all, she herself had been returned from death by a divine favor. It didn’t take long for reality to settle in, though, and Kari fought off the urge to cry as she considered that her circumstance was unique: never before had anyone been returned from death, certainly not to save their loved ones the heartache that came from their absence. Whatever the true reason behind Trigonh’s request – whether it truly was love or if his claim that she would help turn the tide of the Apocalypse was genuine, if wrong – Kari had no idea what had prompted the Creator, Gori Sensullu, to fulfill that request and restore Kari to life.
The ethereal sound of her son’s laughter calmed her emotions, and Kari understood that someone – Zalkar, most likely – was telling her what should have been obvious. Grakin would find immortality in the children she bore for him, and in her heart, where a piece of him would live forever. For as long as he lived, Kari a
nd Grakin would raise their children to protect and care for others, just as they did, and those children would in turn bear children, a bloodline strong and true that bore witness to the character of its patriarchs. Grakin’s words replayed in Kari’s mind, and she understood that she had to choose which of the flames in her life she wished to stoke more: the fire of the demonhunter, or the fire of a mother. She curled one arm under her head while she tapped her fingers on her belly, and she chuckled quietly as she considered it was not a difficult choice at all.
Kari drifted into the realm of dreams, and found herself making love to Suler Tumureldi in the palace’s rooftop gardens while the twilight air cooled around them. Even while asleep, Kari realized that she was seeing a memory and not just a dream. Such lucid dreams didn’t alarm her: they had been somewhat common since that fateful day when she met Sakkrass, and they had almost all been pleasant since she underwent the mental exercises with Triela – even after the episode she’d had while giving birth to Little Gray. She had wondered for years if it was Sakkrass sifting through her dreams and memories to get a better feel for the character of his daughter, but she didn’t dwell on it too much. In these lucid dreams, she relived some of the best of her memories: things that, while not always happy or necessarily pleasant, reminded her of the strength and character she had built up over the years of both of her lives.
The first night she gave herself to Suler Tumureldi was one of the most memorable days of her previous life, and one of her happiest memories in general. Kari recalled the lessons from earlier in that day, and the sparring session in which she had landed a significant strike on him for the first time in her training, but her mind remained fixed foremost on their lovemaking. Suler was such a gentleman and his love for her so genuine that it reminded her time and again that she was not the scared little girl that her father had so callously abused. She basked in that knowledge and in that feeling, and they reminded her that those same traits were what attracted her to Grakin. Something in the core of her soul latched onto the memory, and there was a surge of pleasure as she felt the remnants of her love for Tumureldi one last time, if only ethereally.
