Demon's Quest (High Demon Series #4)

by Connie Suttle

  "My liege," he bowed to Wylend when Wylend stopped fuming for several ticks. Erland had settled in to listen to the King vent all his wrath.

  "What is it, Corolan?" Wylend snapped.

  "I will be visiting family for the next moon-turn." Corolan disappeared.

  "What?" Wylend reached out, as if that would bring Corolan back.

  "Reah took a laser bullet for Corolan," Erland said softly. "She would have done the same for you. Yet you, in an ill-tempered snit, decided to eavesdrop. We all get what we deserve at times, Wylend. Call if you need something." Erland disappeared as well. Wylend cursed—loudly and long.

  * * *

  Reah? Where are you, sweetheart? Teeg's voice came in clear as the proverbial bell.

  Do you think I'd tell you? You couldn't wait to tell Wylend what I said about Wyatt not wanting to be his heir. Now, he's tried and convicted me of treason, and banished me from Karathia. He withdrew his proposal as well. What did you hope to gain from this, Teeg? What?

  I wept and shivered as I sent my reply, and refused to speak to him again while Teeg kept trying to convince me to do so. I had to close my mind off after a while—he was bombarding me with questions and denials. He was the only one, besides Farzi and Nenzi, who'd heard that conversation, and the reptanoids would never approach Wylend with information.

  Besides, parts of what Wylend heard had never been spoken aloud to anyone else, which meant Teeg had certainly been the one who'd betrayed me. My thoughts, too, were an open book to most, so perhaps I should learn to shield them as well. I wondered, amid my sobs and sniffles, just how to go about it. Had I loved Wylend? That answer was yes. And I was coming to love Corolan. I would have to work through that—resign myself to never seeing them again.

  We will not welcome you within Our presence from this day forward. Those had been his words. He was a King, while I was nothing. Just a cook, and a weak and wounded one in addition to that. But I knew, even if he didn't, that my statement was true. Wyatt had said himself that he didn't want the throne when I first met him. Anyone could see that he would glow if he were using his healing skills, and glower if he were serving in some official capacity with Wylend.

  If the King of Karathia wished to wallow in his blindness and short-sightedness, then he was welcome to do so. Since I'd been banished from his sight, he no longer needed to worry that someone might question his perfect warlock world. That didn't keep me from rolling in self-pity, however, and weeping pitifully while I did it.

  Chapter 12

  "Where do you think she is?" Gavril was dangerously angry as he paced inside his father's study. Gavin watched his son fret, a hooded expression in his eyes. Gavril had asked to see the letter Wylend sent to Reah, and then almost went crazy. "She thinks I told him, when Erland says that Wylend used an eavesdropping spell to listen to a private conversation. I don't know about you, Dad, but I consider that an invasion of privacy. Anybody else would have kept the information to themselves. Reah won't answer my mindspeech. She thinks I betrayed her. And I can't go to Wylend and have it out with him—the Campiaan Alliance needs his membership. If he's become this petty, he'll pull out at the blink of an eye."

  "Son, Erland thinks he'll settle down in a few days and think this through rationally. You just need to wait it out for a while. My concern is for Reah, now—she was weak and still in need of care. Most likely, she's alone somewhere and not getting anything. I wish she'd purge this habit of running away every time someone hurts her."

  "Dad, she couldn't before. First, Edan threatened her if she ran away, then the ASD did the same thing, threatening treason if she deserted. Now, Wylend has accused and convicted her of that crime. What would you do, Dad?"

  "I don't have a ready answer. This involves your mate and your great-grandfather. I'm inclined to agree with Erland on this and wait a few days. See if Wylend comes to his senses. This is foolishness."

  "I could have told you that much." Gavril folded away.

  * * *

  "Little one."

  "Honey Blue." I stared up at Nefrigar—he'd shown up on day six of my self-imposed exile. On the second day, I'd been forced to go searching for food—I'd depleted the entire pantry on Beliphar. Now I was ready to skip to Tulgalan—I'd promised Farla and Fes that I'd come to cook the recipes I'd given them. I was hoping that more treachery wasn't coming as a result. I was also hoping that Nefrigar didn't have another planet to save or a different objective—my day was planned out already. I still didn't feel completely healthy, either.

  "I came to help," Nefrigar settled me on a barstool and placed his hands on my head first, then slowly made his way down the rest of my body. Larentii power was shoring up my fragile health—I felt better when he finished.

  "Thank you," I sighed.

  "Little one, perhaps it is not wise to be alone at this time."

  "Really? What do you suggest? Should I call the one who convicted me of treason, or the one who tattled secrets that led to my conviction? The whole thing is ludicrous."

  "Not all may be as it seems," he said cryptically.

  "You're a Larentii, so you know everything. I'm just a stupid, gullible High Demon who doesn't have anything near your resources."

  "Little one, your emotions are unstable," Nefrigar rubbed my back with large, blue fingers.

  "What can you expect? I lost two mates in one day." I tossed up a hand and slid off the stool, walked toward the large kitchen window and stared through it at the unkempt grounds. Once they'd been beautiful, until Beliphar had destroyed itself with greed and neglect. "Tory only shows up when it's convenient for him, Aurelius works constantly, poor Radolf is caught up in this whole mess with Karathia and Lendill has enough to worry about."

  "Yet you are one of Lendill's worries," Nefrigar suggested gently. "And the shapeshifters are frightened for you. You were weak and not ready to be on your own when you left them behind."

  "Yeah, I know that too. But they belong to Teeg. I don't care how often he says they can do what they want, they're still under his thumb. In the meantime, I've been keeping up with that mess on Boodreatis through comp-vid." I held up the comp-vid in question—I'd seen interview after interview with devastated parents. They'd only been shown the initial attack on the college by five huge monsters and one child, who'd held incredible power. Neither the Ra'Ak nor the warlock had bothered to block the camera images—it was as if they wanted to throw the Alliances into mass hysteria.

  The families of the dead weren't told and might never realize that the powerful child in the vids had once been an adult. The Ra'Ak that the warlock worked with were not only insane, they were sick. I'd enlarged images—it looked as if the Ra'Ak were molting, with scales and skin peeling and flaking away. Since I wasn't well-versed on Ra'Ak physiology, I didn't know what that really meant.

  "Do you know what this means?" I pulled up the isolated images I'd saved in a separate file I was keeping. I showed Nefrigar the images.

  "They appear to be ill—I've never known Ra'Ak to molt—their power keeps their scales and such alive and growing with their bodies."

  "If they're ill, why are they ill? What's causing this?"

  "Perhaps you should have a meeting with Lissa; I believe she holds this information."

  "Really?" I asked, before my face fell. She was mated to Erland, and mother to Rylend. Both held Karathian citizenship. How could I walk onto Le-Ath Veronis? I was probably banned from there, too.

  "Little one, things are not so bad as you think."

  "How bad are they?" I asked. I was doing my best not to cry.

  "Reah, they are not as bad as you think. Go to your family, and then consider meeting with Lissa. She will have good information to pass along."

  I rubbed my forehead at his words—a headache was forming. Nefrigar placed two fingers against my forehead, relieving the pressure. "Thank you," I said, and skipped to Tulgalan.

  * * *

  Nefrigar stared at the spot previously occupied by Reah. He would have to
tell her soon, he decided, and folded away.

  * * *

  "I'm feeling well," I lied to Farla as she led me into the kitchen of Desh's number one. I hadn't been inside it since I was eight. Many things had changed since then.

  "We only opened up again three days ago," Farla informed me as I followed her past prep tables and employees busily preparing the evening menu. The restaurant would open in four clicks. Enough time—barely—to prepare the sliced beef in bittersweet sauce.

  "We have the ingredients laid out, we just want to watch," Farla was smiling—the most I'd ever seen her smile during the eight years I'd spent in Targis, believing I was Addah's daughter.

  Fes, too, smiled at me as I went over what had been laid out next to the stove and ovens. The two kinds of fruit had been peeled and seeded and the brown sugars were there, as were the tomato puree and spices. The beef was partially cooked as the recipe indicated. Now, we would slice it, simmer the sauce a bit to blend the flavors and then spoon it over the beef slices, allowing it to cook for a while until it was so tender and flavorful it melted in the mouth. It was Addah's specialty, and people flocked in on the nights he prepared it. I was now preparing it in his place. We would see how it all turned out.

  Fes watched diligently, as did two others—Rane and Wald were there. If I'd known that Wald would come I might have stayed away, but I forged ahead, ignoring him. He was used to this—he'd watch me before, although he never seemed to learn anything.

  "You cut the uyto fruit with a fork?" Fes asked as I worked.

  "Or a pastry cutter," I said. "It needs to be in fine strings, instead of cubes. It cooks faster and you get the flavor into the sauce right away. It can go wrong if you use chunks—the sauce won't be as smooth, either. Actually, since it will be easier to acquire gishi fruit, I was thinking about substituting that for the uyto fruit."

  "That sounds wonderful," Rane sighed.

  "I'll try it soon, if I can get my hands on the fruit. Now, for the pepper and spices," I flung all of it into the pan on the stove with my fingers while Fes watched avidly beside me.

  "Want to slice the beef, Rane?" I asked. He looked to be itching to do something. He nodded enthusiastically and did a fine job, layering it in the pan as he should. Once the sauce was ready, I poured it over the six pans of beef and slipped them into the ovens. Then we started on the fowl in white reduction and two other dishes. The fish would cook last—it took the least amount of time.

  While we worked on that, I asked Fes if he'd like to serve a special cake as one of the desserts. He did. We swirled chocolate, cream and raspberry into a cake batter, cooking it in a moderate oven. It came out looking and smelling like a dream. Fes prepared the sweet sauce to drizzle over the cake while I told him how to make it. The time to open the restaurant had come and guests were arriving when the beef came out of the oven. Fes dipped out a slice and passed the plate around among us.

  "May the stars have mercy, this is better than Addah's," Farla exclaimed. "We may stay alive, my darlings." She hugged Fes and Rane—hard. I watched, feeling a slight twinge of self-pity. I was motherless, and had been my entire life. The cake, too, came out beautifully, and Farla was in raptures, closing her eyes in pleasure with the first bite.

  "But this recipe is yours," Fes said, pointing at the now-empty saucer—we'd devoured the slice of cake.

  "Use it—I don't care as long as you don't show up wherever I'm working and say that what I'm serving is very like yours."

  "Reah, I apologize for that," Fes said. "I didn't know any better. I do now."

  "Mother, Garet Howt is here tonight!" Wald was back and hissing—he'd disappeared to help open the restaurant.

  Garet Howt. The most famous (and demanding) food critic on all of Tulgalan. He'd decried the absence of the yaris fish dish ever since I'd been conscripted by the Alliance. I quirked an eyebrow at Fes. "Well, why don't we give him a night to remember?" I said, smiling at my uncle.

  Garet Howt received a complimentary serving of yaris fish with my own sauce recipe, along with a sampling of the sliced beef in bittersweet sauce, the fowl dish and two others, followed by the cake for dessert. Garet had two people with him, but there was plenty of food to go around. The yaris fish, though, he kept for himself and called for the cook afterward. Fes dragged me to Garet's table.

  "I was planning an article, scheduled to come out in two days, over the death of Addah Desh and his restaurants," Garet smiled at Fes and me. "However, it seems that Addah may have been keeping his talent under his thumb. I often suspected him of this. I'll rewrite the column, telling everyone that Desh's has been reborn. This is the best yaris fish I have ever tasted." I noticed he'd cleaned his plate.

  "Fes and I worked on it, with help from the other staff and family members," I nodded at Garet Howt. "I think you will not be disappointed, anytime you visit Desh's, sir."

  "And your name, lady cook?" he asked.

  "Reah," Fes answered for me. "This is my niece, Reah Desh Nilvas Silver." Garet smiled widely, hauled out his comp-vid and dutifully recorded my name. I wasn't sure how I felt about that, but it was too late to take it back.

  I worked with the kitchen staff throughout the evening, helping Fes and the others prepare regular menu items. It was a relief when the doors closed and the last guest went home—I was exhausted.

  "Here," Fes handed a glass of wine to me and offered a chair in his office. Farla, Rane, Wald, Landor and several other family members were also inside. He explained to all of them what Garet Howt had said. "After this, we just need to get number two and three back on track, and four through six through a small drought," he sighed. "Wald, are you going to be able to take care of number two? I'll bring Halde in and show him how to prepare these recipes that Reah brought to us. Perhaps number three will reincarnate."

  Wald looked at me. And then dropped to his knees. "Reah, I'm so sorry," he said. "I was trying to impress Edan. I wasn't impressing anybody."

  "You won't ever impress Edan with that kind of behavior now—he's changed drastically. Did you know he's working on his medical degree on Le-Ath Veronis? I think I've called him Daddy twice—he seems to like it."

  "You're joking?" Farla stared at me in shock.

  "No. Someday, maybe I'll tell you about gods and things of that nature. In the meantime, here's to a successful night and a positive review," I held up my glass. Wald surged to his feet and clinked my glass with his.

  "Are you sure you won't stay with us?" Fes was doing his best to convince me to come home with him and the others.

  "No, Uncle Fes. I have some thinking to do," I said.

  "Uncle Fes. I like it, Reah. Don't leave us. Visit often. You'll be welcome anytime."

  "I enjoyed cooking with you tonight. I'd like to do it again," I smiled up at him.

  "Reah, walk into my kitchen whenever you want." His grin widened. "It is my kitchen now, isn't it?" I think it was just sinking in. I wasn't privy to Addah's will, but I felt Fes was probably the primary beneficiary.

  "Fes, it's your kitchen." I patted his arm. "Your family, too. Spread the love around."

  "I'll call you—I have your code," he patted the pocket where his comp-vid rested inside his heavy coat. Winter had definitely settled in for Targis.

  "Any time," I said and turned to walk toward the bus stop. As soon as Fes was out of sight, I skipped away.

  Beliphar wasn't my goal for the evening—I was tired, bone tired, and only wanted a warm bed. Perhaps a nice bath. I skipped to the house Teeg had purchased, since all my belongings were still there. He wouldn't think to look for me in such plain sight.

  The clanging of swords greeted me the moment I set foot inside the house. It frightened me at first, so I crept toward the large solarium on the eastern side of the mansion. There I found Lok, sparring with Drake while Drew watched from the side, offering smiling advice now and then.

  "Don't you know when to stop?" I skipped to Drew's side and watched Lok and Drake attempt to beat each other into submission
.

  Drew grinned at me. "We wondered where you went, little girl," he said, before shouting at Lok to keep his elbows in.

  "I've been here and there," I replied, unwilling to share my hiding place with anyone.

  "Everybody's worried sick," the smile disappeared.

  "Wylend isn't," I pointed out.

  "Wylend's being a jackass," Drew said, keeping his eyes on Lok and his brother. "Where were you tonight? You smell like an entire restaurant."

  "I was at Desh's number one, keeping the family from going bankrupt," I said. "Addah didn't share some of his best recipes, so I went to show Fes and the others how to make them. It seemed to go well."

  "So, with Addah and the original Edan out of the picture, the family gets along?" Another smile quirked at the corner of his mouth. He and Drake were more than handsome, and reinforced my Falchani fantasy. I'd just have to find a Falchani someday. One who didn't mind if I were shorter, with white hair. I could hold my own against anybody with the blades.

  "You're forgetting Aldah and Marzi," I said. "You remember Marzi, don't you—you know, the bitch who tried to kill me?"

  "Yeah. Definitely forgot about her. So, without those four, the family likes each other?"

  "I think they get along," I said. "Enough that they won't kill each other."

  "Reah, how tired are you?" Drake asked as he and Lok clanged swords.

  "Tired," I said.

  "Then you won't kill Lok too bad. Drew, hand her your blades." Drew was grinning as he placed both his practice blades in my hands.

  "But I wanted a bath and a long sleep," I protested as Drew shoved me into the sparring square.

  "Get a touch on Lok and that'll happen," Drake laughed.

  Lok glared at me, as if I were a bug to be squashed or something. "I'll let you attack first," I said, nodding at the enigmatic Falchani. I was seeing his tattoos for the first time—they were red dragons very much like Dragon's. He was covered in a light sheen of sweat and still looked good enough to eat, his long braid swinging down his back. His eyes narrowed at me. I watched him, keeping my wrists loose, preparing for his attack.