Demon Scroll

by Tim Niederriter

  "You used to work with the demon hunters." Elaine took a step closer to Lady Nasibron's side. "You fought other mages too?"

  "The things we don't know, girl...This only happened once. Parson Dane, the old hound of Cyrus Bode enlisted me to follow Hadrian's trail one summer."

  "And Hadrian joined you?"

  "Hardly, girl. But if you want the story, I suppose now is as good a time as any."

  "Please tell me, auntie."

  "I will if you can be patient, niece."

  Elaine nodded, not wanting to put in another word, lest she annoy her aunt.

  Lady Nasibron smirked.

  "We were hunting Hadrian, not trying to help him, my dear."

  Elaine pursed her lips, fighting the urge to ask the obvious question.

  "Not many people will tell you this outright, but Bode and Hadrian, despite being brothers in blood and service, do not enjoy each others' company, shall we say. Twenty years ago, Dane was always preoccupied with knowing where Hadrian would be and what he was doing. He and I and a few of Bode's clan knights rode toward the valley, trying to herd Deckard into a trap. Dane thought we had him cornered in a ravine near the southern side of the valley when we chased him into a cave. No wind in a cave, Elaine. He couldn't just fly away."

  Elaine nodded. Lady Nasibron shook her head. A smile played on her lips.

  "We really should have known better. As sure as we chased Hadrian, he wasn't fleeing us, he was leading us. I only found out later but he had traced the renegade wizard Ugo Meere to the very cave we thought we had him trapped. Hadrian moves quickly, so we followed him inside the moment we were sure he couldn't get past us to escape. When we entered the part of the cave Meere was using for his study, we found Hadrian fighting this rogue wizard."

  "What happened then?"

  Lady Nasibron shrugged her shoulders.

  "What do you think?" She laughed and raised a hand to stop Elaine's protests. "Hadrian shouted at Parson Dane that we were on the same side for the moment. Dane is a bloodhound, but he has some sense of priority, so we both attacked Meere. Together, we managed to stop enough of his spells to give Hadrian a chance to get close."

  "Did he kill Meere?"

  "Not personally. Once Hadrian grabbed him the renegade couldn't fight any longer. Not many men are as strong as Hadrian. Hadrian came with us to Empire afterward. Meere was hanged in the city weeks later, after Cyrus Bode passed down the sentence. By then, Hadrian had flown free again. That was the last I saw him until he flew into the orchard. Now let us go, the wind is dying down.”

  Elaine made her way along the passage to the bell tower nearest the guest rooms. She wondered where Lord Hadrian landed if he had flown to the palace earlier that day. Lady Nasibron said to be wary of him. How bad could the man be with all the stories of heroism she’d heard about him? In the intervening two hours, she studied her texts and changed into finer clothes than her training tunic and trousers.

  She now wore a gray-hemmed white skirt and a lacy green blouse. A light cotton mantle the same colors as her skirt hung about her shoulders. She doubted she would find a suitor in Soucot. With her studies taking up the majority of her time, she would probably not be dressing up for any court dances either. Elaine didn't precisely mind her near-exile to the south.

  Suitors wouldn't make her a full witch any faster. Bringing a husband to her parents' castle could wait until she secured her powers. Lady Nasibron once told her the most dangerous wizards were those only half-trained.

  "They have all the power, but lack control," her aunt added. "Better one have no magic than a situation like that."

  As a younger student, Elaine had watched Lady Nasibron deliver the children of fellow nobility a few times. While the process seemed simple enough, her aunt assured her it was not necessarily so.

  "Thank Mercy for easing this part of my work," she said. "Child-bearing is no easy task for any woman."

  At the time, Elaine wanted to ask what her aunt knew about child-bearing, having never had a son or daughter herself. She bit her tongue. In the cool passage of the palace at Soucot, Elaine remained satisfied by her intuitive wisdom. Lucky, because she had usually lacked such restraint when it came to her aunt. That moment taught her an important lesson when combined with all the times Lady Nasibron snapped at her for asking prying or impertinent questions.

  Elaine reached the door to the bell tower where a gentle servant was sweeping the hall. The man wore the dark colors of his position with a silver broach on his collar. His skin was pale and his scalp hairless. Lines of age marked his face along with a scar along one side of his jaw. Even the broom he carried in his off-hand looked hard-worn.

  "Excuse me, gentle man," she said.

  "Excuse me, Lady Tanlos."

  "Please." Elaine motioned to the door of the bell tower. "Can you open this for me?"

  "Of course I could, though I think if you try the door, my lady, you'll find it opens easily."

  "I was told the bell tower is locked when not in use."

  "Indeed it is. I had another request to open it, but a few moments ago."

  "Who was it, if I may ask?"

  "Why, the bold young caravan guard, I believe."

  "I hope she does not mind if I join her."

  "I can go with you to mediate if you will, though I fear you would outmatch me in most altercations, my lady." He held up his right hand, which Elaine realized was in fact, a metal facsimile of the original extremity with locking fingers. "You see, much like the young caravan guard, I once made a sacrifice for my governor."

  Elaine gave a solemn nod.

  "I appreciate your words and you make a generous offer, and one I will take, gentle man." Elaine gave him a smile. "Thank you. What is your name?"

  "Hilos of the Order of the Ford."

  "The Order of the Ford? Sir, am I speaking with a knight?"

  "Indeed," he said. "Though one long in the tooth and far from his armor. Please, follow me, Lady Tanlos."

  He opened the bell tower door and led the way up the spiraling staircase beyond. Elaine followed. A question her aunt would call impertinent raced to her tongue. Before she could think it through, she spoke.

  "Why were you sweeping?"

  "The floor gets dusty, my lady."

  "But you're a knight."

  "And the broom is my sword these days." Hilos continued to climb, his tone cheerful in spite of any rudeness in her question. "I'm not the sort of knight to retire and rest my bones as if no deeds are left to be done. I'd rather make use of the body Mother Mercy gave me while I still have most of it."

  "A finer answer than my question deserved," said Elaine.

  "Curiosity is no offense when it is earned." He smiled over his shoulder as they approached a door to the tower's bell rooms. "Here we are." He opened the door and motioned her through while he held it for her.

  On the other side, beyond the ropes and mechanisms and bulk of the differently-sized brass bells, the room appeared empty.

  "That's strange," said Elaine.

  "Perhaps not, my lady," said Hilos. "Our other guest may be taking in the view at the balcony."

  "I suppose that's likely," said Elaine. She picked her way to the path leading around the bells, then climbed the steps to the balcony on the second level of the bell room's wooden workings.

  At the top of the stairs, she turned toward the balcony, and sure enough, there was Melissa Dorian, not standing to gaze down at the city, but sitting cross-legged by the edge of the wooden floor with her back to the view. A book open lay before her. They must be of nearly the same years, but Melissa appeared completely still except for her eyes diligently moving down the page.

  The former caravan guard turned toward Elaine and Hilos as they crested the stairs one after the other.

  "Greetings once again, honored guest," said Hilos. "May I introduce, Lady Elaine Tanlos." He motioned to Elaine.

  Elaine waved his gesturing hands away.

  "Please, gentle sir, I don't require
a formal introduction."

  "Neither do I," said Melissa, unsmiling.

  Hilos bowed slightly to Elaine. She only imagined his back creaking with the motion. The sounds of the wind made any such subtle noises inaudible.

  "Excuse me, but I appear to be the one who has worn out my welcome."

  "You may go," said Elaine. "Thank you, Hilos."

  "Of course, my lady." The retired knight turned and made his way down the stairs.

  When he was gone, Melissa then turned and gazed at the city.

  "I'm surprised the old man made it up here."

  "I'm glad to meet you, but must you be so abrasive?"

  "Lady Tanlos, I hope you didn't make him climb those stairs on account of me."

  "Lady Dorian."

  "Not a lady," she said. "Call me by my name."

  "Melissa, excuse me."

  Melissa sighed, then waved Elaine closer.

  "No, forgive me. I'm on edge just being back in this city."

  "You're from Soucot."

  "Originally, yes."

  "And you left for a reason. That's simple mathematics."

  Melissa gazed at the rooftops around the river in the center of the city. Two bridges, both high and stone, but one far larger than the other, connected to other half of Soucot on the other side. Melissa pointed at a building on the far side of the river.

  "You see that district, the one near the coastal wall and the southern docks? I was born there."

  Elaine walked to her and peered at the city. So high up, the smells and sounds were muted, but it was far from beautiful except in sight. The district by the south docks stood around the remains of a set of tall walls. Those walls were crumbling with time down to the demon stone that made up their black cores. Indestructible by mortal hands, demon stone remained as it was shaped, virtually impervious to the hands of time, creating near-immortal fortifications. In places, though, the walls ended in jagged breaks, as if some force once hewed through otherwise unbreakable stone.

  Elaine frowned.

  "What happened to those walls?"

  "They've looked like that my whole life," said Melissa.

  "They're broken."

  "Lots of walls in this city have seen better times."

  "Please, but you don't understand. The black shell of demon stone is thought impenetrable."

  "Long before you or I, something did more than penetrate those walls, Lady Tanlos. It destroyed them."

  “That is evident, yes. I wonder what could do that?”

  Melissa shrugged.

  “I’m just glad it’s in the past.”

  Elaine nodded.

  “You seem a practical woman, Melissa.”

  The former guard glanced at her.

  “Your point?”

  “I’m curious. When presented with the opportunity of a reward, you chose the most difficult path I’d think possible, that of a mage.”

  Melissa turned to look over the city.

  “I know what I want, Lady Tanlos. I’ve dreamed of becoming a mage, yet haven’t thought it possible in a long time. Now I have a chance.”

  “Thank you for your answer.”

  “Is studying magic that difficult, Lady Tanlos?”

  “Some find it easier. I confess I am not a natural talent. You may learn faster than I have.”

  Melissa nodded.

  “Thank you for being honest.”

  “Likewise.”

  Melissa got to her feet. She picked up the book.

  “If you don’t mind, I think I’ll leave you with the view. I still have things to return my reading before sundown.”

  “Of course. Mercy follow you.”

  “And you, Lady Tanlos.”

  Melissa’s footsteps sounded heavy on the boards as she descended the stairs, then left the bell tower. Elaine stood, gazing at the city, wondering about the woman and the ancient broken walls around her birthplace. Northerners were supposed to be of few words, especially Palavians, but Melissa Dorian put most of Elaine’s people to shame.

  Melissa

  The inn where Orm was staying with a group of other caravan guards stood on one side of a low hill on the south side of the river. Dogs barked somewhere in the neighborhood nearby as Melissa drew close.

  The place looked as run-down as any place Melissa had ever stayed. She couldn't feel too sorry for the guards staying there, though. She might even have preferred to stay in a place like this, rather than the palace, if only because of the familiarity of slums. Governor Lokoth insisted on keeping her close for the moment.

  "I like to have a hero at my side when I can," she’d said.

  The governor’s restrictions didn't change the fact Melissa didn’t take easily to privileges and gifts on a level she'd never imagined until five days ago. The myths of power told the people their lives couldn't change. Without the influence of someone with more power, Melissa generally thought that was true as well.

  The wind and the dogs were howling as Melissa opened the door to the inn.

  Orm sat at a table inside, surrounded by his fellow guards. He stood up when he saw Melissa. She nodded in his direction. He made his way around the table and over to where she stood near the door.

  He looked the same as ever, the same smile, the same shiny dome of a head. Yet, when he reached her, the smile slipped and the light motivating it faded.

  "There you are!"

  "Sorry I couldn't get here sooner."

  "Forget about that!" Orm laughed, his enthusiasm returning. "You're still alive, and it looks like you're moving up in the world. A lot of us here are envious. If you'd asked for a gold or a knighthood I'd understand them better."

  Melissa nodded to the table full of other caravan guards.

  "You can tell them I've dreamed of being a mage my whole life."

  "Is that the truth?" Orm whistled.

  "Close enough for them, I think," said Melissa. "Do you still have my books?"

  "They're upstairs in the room I'm sharing," said Orm. "But come on, have a drink with us!"

  "I never drank with these men before."

  "Of course, but you don't have to worry about them now. You have the governor's eye now."

  Melissa suppressed a laugh with her hand over her mouth.

  "I guess I do. And all it took was nearly dying."

  "So that's how bad it was? I couldn't tell, not exactly."

  "Orm, you've seen people killed all sorts of ways. I couldn't have looked that different from one of them when the lizard man hit me."

  "Oh, you didn't, but you seem fine now."

  "The governor employs some excellent healers." Melissa turned to the table where Orm had been sitting. "I suppose a drink or two wouldn't hurt. But I need to leave before the sun sets or people are going to ask questions."

  Orm nodded.

  "Judging by the sun, I'd bet we have at least three hours before last light."

  "In that case, I'm buying," said Melissa, raising the bag clinking with silver from her first stipend. "Next round is on me!"

  The half-dozen guards Orm had been sitting with turned in Melissa's direction, eyes growing wide.

  "Not so loud, girl," said Orm. "I almost think you've been waiting to do something like this."

  "Not waiting," said Melissa, finally smiling at the other guards. "More like imagining."

  The innkeeper brought more wine and beer and Melissa joined her first arrival drinking session. Because of her change in careers, she guessed it would also be her last. By the time she stumbled to her feet from the table, her vision was unsteady. She decided to leave the last bottle of wine to the others. Orm helped guide her toward the door.

  "I'll be back for my books tomorrow," said Melissa.

  "Right, right," said Orm, shoving her playfully toward the exit. "Good luck with all the magic and reading, girl."

  "Ha! You know, I like to study, but this was pretty good too," she said.

  "Next time we're in Soucot, I'll get in touch," he said.

 
She steadied herself on the door frame.

  "Sounds like a good idea," she said. "I wish you safe roads tomorrow, old man."

  "I'm not that old."

  "Sure you aren't. Don't forget to write."

  "I'll write when I can!" Orm said too loudly.

  "No need to bellow," said Melissa. She laughed out loud, then reached for the door. The helpful innkeeper pushed it open for her.

  A tall shadow fell across her from the other side, cast by the setting sun's rays.

  "G-guild master," The innkeeper's hands wrung his apron. "What brings you to my establishment?"

  "I'm looking for the governor's new mage," said the obelisk of a man in the doorway. "Melissa Dorian is her name."

  "You found me," Melissa said, looking up at the man's clean-shaven face, the same tawny shade as other local Lowenraners. He wore a gray robe, mostly hiding the shape of his body except for a heavy paunch. A blue scarf of linen hung around his neck. "But who are you?"

  "Such impudence. Don't you have ears?"

  "Right, you're the guild master. Excuse me, sir."

  "Oh, I'll do no such thing. Far from it."

  "Guild master, she's drunk."

  "No excuses will make my moon any brighter," said the guild master. "I don't think kindly of those who abuse their alcohol."

  "Please, sir. Would you take this outside."

  "That I understand," said the guild master. He stepped out of the doorway and motioned Melissa through it.

  "What kind of guild master are you?" she asked, stepping forward. "I haven't been to Soucot in years."

  Orm followed her outside. One glanced at him told Melissa she needed to sharpen up. The caravan guard appeared apprehensive, tension lining his face. The guild master chuckled.

  "I am the head of the Magister’s Guild here in Soucot," said the big man. "My name is Ricklon Kadatz."

  "Excuse me, Guild master Kadatz, but that means you're a mage. I thought the governor was short on mages?" Melissa glanced at the man's face, looking down at her in the growing shadows.

  He snarled.

  "You clearly don't understand. My guild is in charge of all magic in this city." He waved his hand. Two people, a young woman, and a nervous-looking boy detached themselves from the shadows. They wore the same kind of fine robe as Kadatz, but of both of a darker shade of gray.