Demon Scroll

by Tim Niederriter

  Most witches in the Chos Valley, where she usually dwelt, would be glad for her reputation, especially given her lack of battle experience with the Kism. After the conquest of Tancuon, her kind of witch became extremely valuable among the people, or so said books already old when Deckard was young.

  Professional witchcraft made for a stable existence, far more stable, then being a demon Hunter, as Kellene had been in her youth. And far more stable even, for most, then hunting an immortal, as Kellene had also done once before.

  Deckard tapped on the glass, wondering if she would be up late reading as had been in past times Deckard met her. She a night owl. Once Deckard tapped, then twice, then three times. On the third tap, the aging witch appeared at the window in her full-gown. She opened the latch quickly and let him inside. She appeared more wizened by the hour, as fatigue built.

  Deckard never slept, but he understood what it was to feel tired. Looking at her could teach the lesson of sleep to him all over again, even if he did not need rest.

  “Studying?” he asked.

  She nodded.

  “Deckard, what are you doing here?”

  Suddenly, the idea that he knocked at her window to tell her to send someone to watch over a harmless dog demon, made Deckard feel strange. He must have sensed something else without realizing it.

  “Kellene,” he said, “I came to see if you are adjusting well and how your students are doing.”

  “Besides the scuffle today,” said Kelly, “I think they're doing all right. It's only been a day, but some of them have already picked up the basics of matching. Some of them came equipped with some knowledge or talent for it. Even if they don't know what they're doing,” said Kellene, “they mostly have an idea of what they must do to grow faster.”

  “Good,” said Deckard.

  Kellene frowned.

  “Is that all you want to ask me in the middle the night?”

  “Almost so,” said Deckard. “Just one more thing.”

  “Go ahead,” said Kellene,” or do I have to drag it out of you?”

  “No,” said Deckard,” you won't have to drag anything anywhere.”

  “Good, as my age advances, I wouldn't want to be hauling your luggage around with me forever.”

  Deckard laughed, but stifled it, so as not to disturb others sleeping in the palace.

  “In that case,” he said. “Kellene, there's a dog demon near the docks, harmless, but you may want to keep an eye on him. His name is Baor...”

  Saben

  Saben and rejoined the others not far from the docks in the dead of night.

  They met at the street corner outside their inn. Saben had taken the long way to get back, but Jaswei still waited up for him. She waved to him as he approached. He drew close and they brought their heads close together to talk. Rond lurked in the shadows nearby.

  Jaswei asked, “what happened today?”

  Saben grunted.

  “That's my question as well.”

  “All right,” said Rond, “But what happened?”

  “Why do you want to know?” asked Saben.

  “I’m part of the team,” said Rond.

  “You’re new,” said Jaswei. “Don't get ahead of yourself.”

  Ron folded his arms. His large belly looked even more round in the moonlight.

  “You don't have any right order me around, girl.”

  Jaswei turned, one hand on the sheath with no sword held in it. She stared daggers at Rond. He clammed up fast.

  “Like a trap,” said Jaswei. “And like a trick.” She smiled.

  Saben nodded.

  “The scroll is safe,” he said. “I think we are too.”

  “If we stay out of trouble, we should stay that way. Which you didn't do well today.”

  Saben grunted once more.

  “You're not going to let me forget that, are you?”

  “No, of course not,” said Jaswei.

  “Good,” said Saben. ”I was foolish.”

  Ron shook his head, teeth gritted.

  “You can say that again,” he muttered.

  “What made you want to help those women?” Jaswei asked.

  Saben shrugged.

  “I got a gold for it.”

  “What made you think you would get paid at the time?” she asked.

  “They looked moneyed,” said Saben.

  “Fair enough,” said Jaswei. “And we could use more. Did you really get gold?”

  “Yes.”

  “Good,” said Rond. “I'm not made of money, you know.”

  “No one asked your opinion,” said Saben.

  Jazwei nodded. Rond grimaced.

  “I don't know why I bother.”

  “You want a piece of what we’re doing,” said Jaswei. “Or you wouldn't.”

  Rond deepened the scowl on his face. He looked as angry as Saben had ever seen anyone. Hopefully, that rage would prove impotent on its own.

  “Look,” Saben said, “you are new to the group, but you’re part of the group now. We will split the money with you. We can use it. That should cover everything you paid for so far.”

  Rond startled, switched tempo immediately. He smiled and then laughed.

  “Are you trying to buy me out?” he said.

  “Buy you out?” Jaswei asked.

  “Yeah,” said Ron, “you're trying to settle up accounts with me so we don't work together anymore is that it?”

  “Well,” said Jaswei, “If you're not fit for the life of the mercenary, perhaps that would be best.”

  Saben shook his head.

  “No,” he said, “I wasn't trying to settle accounts with you.”

  He turned to Jaswei.

  “Your Tancuonese is growing quickly,” he said.

  “Of course it is. I practiced a lot while you were away.” She winked at him.

  Rond and Jaswei led Saben inside, and then up the stairs of the inn to their accommodations.

  Melissa

  She woke to the sound of birds fluttering outside her window. She dressed in her training gear, then went to her balcony, which adjoined her room and Hilos’ new student quarters.

  Melissa peered into the daylight. Crows fluttered all over the yard. There were countless birds.

  She frowned, as she recognized them as more northerly creatures. They shouldn’t be so far south. Something must be amiss. The flock moved as one, shifting like a living thing.

  She glanced across the balcony at Hilos as the old knight stepped out his door.

  “What are they doing?” she asked.

  He frowned.

  “I take it they’re messengers,” he said.

  “Crows?” said Melissa. I'd not known of any crows to fly so far south.”

  “Soucot is a strange city,” said Hilos. “These are no ordinary birds.”

  “Who could send a flock of birds as a messenger?” Melissa asked.

  “I think I know,” said Hilos. “I’m afraid it is beyond my ability and station to tell.”

  Melissa frowned.

  “Your station?”

  “I don't know if it's proper to tell you where these birds came from.”

  “You are gentle servant,” said Melissa, “At least, officially.”

  The former Knight nodded.

  “I serve the governor.”

  They glanced at each other. He smiled.

  “I'll tell you once I’m allowed.”

  They went back into their separate rooms. At least he seemed honest about not being able to tell her.

  I’m going to be kept in the dark about most things, being a mere peasant to these people.

  Her parents had been merchants, but she wasn’t one any longer. She had few things to remember her upbringing, and most of them were bad.

  She walked through the palace. Today was their break from practicing. Though she had achieved a certain degree of control over sprites, she had not yet found a concept to use to direct them. Everything she tried, only ended up creating a mass of pain
for her and ineffectual movement of her sprites and banes.

  She reached the yard outside and found Niu practicing with her brother.

  Niu glanced in her direction.

  “Melissa,” she called, “want to train?”

  Melissa felt her aching back.

  “No thanks,” she said, “I'm still hurting from the last three days.”

  “I understand,” said Niu.

  Tal, Niu’s brother, smiled.

  “If you lack stamina perhaps you could use more physical training as well as magical training.”

  “What did you have in mind?” Melissa snorted.

  “Well, you know,” Tal said, “running, fighting, something else?”

  “I’ll assume I understood what you just said. I think I’ve had enough of all that for now.”

  He flushed and turned to Niu. She shook her head.

  “Please stop being ridiculous,” she said.

  “Anyway,” said Melissa, I'd rather rest than train, to be honest.”

  Niu nodded.

  “We should take a break as well,” she said.

  She and Tal joined Melissa walking toward the gates from the palace into the city. They left the citadel and entered the marketplaces beyond its walls. With the three of them together, the magister's guild would hopefully not seek to cause trouble. If they encountered hostile magisters, their directive was to flee.

  Despite herself, Melissa decided that seemed reasonable. She only understood the challenge of using magical skills so she could swallow her pride for the moment.

  In the market, they bought food from vendors and ate at one of the small stands by a well, that served the passersby clean, fruit-infused water.

  Except for the taste of apples in the water, the market seemed similar to the north. Soucot began to feel more familiar to Melissa, reminding her of her childhood.

  People in the north seemed to mill around less, but here everyone appeared more relaxed. Melissa and the others finished their food, then returned to the palace, making their way along a road beside which a school for the clergy of Mother Mercy stood. The school’s black, imposing, stone walls cast a long shadow.

  The College of Mercy made an imposing centerpiece for a northern town but in the south, it looked even more stark. The churchgoers and students made their way in and out as they passed. Due to the prominence of the governor choosing to live in the city, the college thrived.

  Governors were picked by Mother Mercy it was said, one by one, hand by hand.

  Hand, Melissa thought, now I'm part of the governor's hand. In a way, I have been blessed directly my Mother Mercy.

  She, Niu, and Tal returned to the palace. They found the flock of crows still circling low over the yard. Lady Nasibron spoke to them from below. She walked beneath the birds, calling up in a voice speaking a language Melissa did not understand. The birds descended and then landed upon trees around on the edge of the yard. Lady Nasibron approached them, black gown billowing behind her.

  Melissa glanced at Niu.

  “Want to find out what they’re doing?” she asked.

  Tal frowned.

  “Those birds move as if they’re one creature,” he said.

  “I suspect they may be,” said Melissa.

  “How?” asked Niu.

  Melissa nodded.

  “I remember reading a book,” she said, “about a place far away, where demons could take the forms of animals.”

  “Demons take the shape of animals?” Tal stopped, gazing at the trees dark with crows.

  “Perhaps it’s possible,” Melissa said. “In the book, they could. They had the ability to split into more than one animal at a time.”

  “I’d like to know how many animals make one demon,” said Tal.

  “I suspect many,” said Melissa. “in the book there were pictures like this one, where a bird flock and a single person could keep conference together. In the book, I think they were wolves, though.”

  “That sounds an interesting book”, said Niu. “But I've never heard of anything like that.”

  Melissa shrugged.

  “You're seeing it now.”

  “What language is she speaking?” asked Tal.

  Niu shrugged.

  “None I know.”

  Melissa shook her head.

  “Me neither.”

  Tal frowned and then started walking toward the flock of birds and Lady Nasibron

  “Hey,” said Niu. “You can’t get that close.”

  “I don't think it'll be a problem,” said Tal.

  Melissa followed Tal toward the birds and the witch and found his guess incorrect.

  Lady Nasibron turned and glared at them.

  “Go back, you're just students.”

  “I’m part of the hand of Lowenrane’s governor,” said Melissa.

  “And you’re my student, sadly,” said Lady Nasibron. “Go back.”

  Melissa stepped forward.

  “I'm not your student by choice,” she said. “I'll take any teacher.”

  “I'm the one you have,” said the old witch. “Don’t fight me, please.”

  “Please?” said Melissa, “we just want to know what that thing is doing here?”

  “That thing,” said the voice of countless birds squawking from the flock, “is a demon.”

  “A demon,” said Melissa, “I was right!”

  “You were correct. So go back, before I lose my patience.”

  The bird demon spoke as a multitude of voices. Melissa and Tal listened to the words this time, retreating at once.

  Saben

  Saben, Jaswei, and Rond crept through the alleyway. It was three days since they had stolen the scroll, two since Saben had encountered the three women on the street outside the library. And now, the day was waning already. They made their way through the alley and to a door on one side. The wooden structure of the building rattled when Saben knocked.

  A slat opened in the doorway. A pair of eyes peered out at them.

  “Who goes there?”

  “My name is Saben.” He motioned to Jaswei and Rond. “We are foreigners.”

  “What do you want with us then, foreigners?”

  “We’re also mercenaries.”

  Jaswei nodded.

  “You looking for work?” said the voice behind the door.

  Saben nodded.

  The door creaked open. The man behind it, little taller than a dwarf and with a shaggy red beard motioned them inside. He rubbed his bald pate with his hand and coughed into a handkerchief held in the other.

  Saben and the others walked past him into the small room, one where Saben felt too large within, given his great height.

  Saben and Jaswei took seats on the far side of the room beside another door leading into what Saben supposed was probably the main part of the building. Rond paced back and forth despite a third chair being present for him. The red-haired man went past Jaswei and Saben and knocked on the door between them. The door immediately swung open and the little man led them inside. His red hair, what remained of it on the back of his skull bounced up and down as he walked.

  Jaswei, Saben, Rond, and the red-bearded little man made their way into the tavern room, one re-purposed specifically for mercenaries. We’re here, Saben thought, a dive for recruiting muscle. Whoever runs this place probably understand the danger of operating in the Land of Mercy without a holy dictate.

  They reached the bar, where a huge man, perhaps half-giant, turned and glared them over a mug of ale. He set the mug on the bar.

  “You got new recruits,” he said to the little man.

  The little man nodded.

  “The big guy. He looks like he could do something useful.”

  “The other two don't look so useful,” said the big man.

  Jaswei snorted. Rond folded his arms.

  Saben rolled his eyes.

  “What kind of work are you looking for?” asked the big man.

  Jaswei stepped forward.

  �
�We specialize in thievery and violence,” she said.

  “Violence?” said the big man. “You serious?”

  “Quite,”

  Rond huffed.

  Saben nodded.

  “They don't look it but they speak the truth.”

  “That one’s a minstrel,” said the dwarf, point at Rond.

  The towering barman nodded.

  “I've heard him play,” he said. “Seemed pretty good. Why go to the blade?”

  Rond snorted derisively, copying Jaswei’s earlier sound. His exaggerated breath seemed loud in the tavern room. Eyes turned from tables and looked at them.

  Rond put his hands out.

  “I prefer to cross my opponents.”

  “Your opponents?” The big man shook his head. “You three are interesting but you big man, you look useful. Fat man does not.”

  Rond folded his arms once more.

  “I’m plenty useful.”

  The big man rolled his eyes. Saben could not help but agree with him. He hadn't seen Rond do much beyond talk to people.

  Jaswei turned to look at the little man.

  “You got us in the door,” she said, “thanks.”

  The little man laughed.

  “Of course,” he said. “It's my job.”

  Jaswei shrugged.

  “You did it well.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?” said the little man.

  Jaswei shrugged.

  “It doesn't mean anything,” she said.

  The little man scowled.

  “Be that way, then.”

  Saben turned to a little man.

  “What she means to say is she's new at speaking your language.”

  The little man nodded, comprehension dawning on his face.

  Saben and the others turned back to the big bartender. The little man scurried back to the anteroom.

  Around the mercenary barroom, other men and a few women turned their attention back to their drinks and talk. The low hum of conversation returned.

  Rond looked at the man behind the bar. The man nodded.

  “My name is Eric,” he said. “I'm the broker here.”

  “So you broke things?” said Jaswei.

  “I don't break anything,” said Eric. “I’m careful.”

  “Especially not your glasses,” said Saben. He noticed the care with which the big man's huge hands handled the glass.