Empire of Demons (The Moonstone Chronicles Book 4)

by Sara C. Roethle

  Brosod stood over them, bow now at the ready, though her breathing was harsh and her face shone with sweat in the wisplight.

  “We’ve only just begun our journey,” Saida’s voice trembled, “and we’ve already nearly been killed. How will we ever make it?”

  Malon peered toward the cliff’s edge. “I’ll admit, I did not expect to run across a greater demon so soon, but we weren’t nearly killed. If we had faced it, we would have won, it just would have wasted more time.” He pulled around his travel satchel, then offered her a water skin.

  She took it, careful not to drink too much, though her body willed her to guzzle the cool liquid down.

  She reluctantly offered it to Brosod, who shook her head. “I will only drink when necessary.” There was no judgment in her words. She knew Saida had not grown up in the Helshone. She had never learned to survive long periods of time without water.

  Saida’s racing heart began to slow, but she was quite sure if she tried to stand, her legs would not yet hold her. “Malon,” she began, trying to figure out the best way to ask her question. She figured it as good a time as any, for they would not be alone any time soon. As much as she had tried to dismiss Egrin’s accusations, they gnawed at her.

  Malon took the water skin from her hand and replaced the cap. “Yes?”

  The air shifted. A bone chilling shriek deafened her. Her mind barely had time to register the greater demon leaping up from the cliff’s edge, its crab-like legs spearing downward toward Malon. She hesitated for just a moment, then grabbed the circlet. Cindra’s power flowed through her. For a heartbeat she was pure moonlight, then she sent that power streaming toward the demon. Ice crackled and the demon screamed. Its legs stabbed the ground, trapping Malon.

  Saida didn’t remember standing, but she had done so at some point as she staggered backwards now. Malon’s wisplight winked back into existence, illuminating him trapped within a cage of the creature’s many legs, all frozen and fully encased in ice. The creature’s huge frozen body, resembling a red beetle but with a humanoid torso, pinned him to the ground.

  Brosod stood beside Saida with her bow. She hadn’t had a chance to fire a single shot.

  Malon cleared his throat. “A little help here?”

  Brosod sprung into action, hurrying to tug on one of the creature’s frozen legs. It moved with a loud crack, then she tugged on the next until there was enough room for Saida to reach a hand in toward Malon. He took her hand, using the other one to pull himself across the ground until he was free of the creature.

  He stood, still holding Saida’s trembling hand. “You saved me.”

  She looked up at him. “You sound surprised,” her voice wavered. “It’s not like it’s the first time.”

  He smiled, squeezed her hand, then let it drop. “True, but I wouldn’t have expected it, then or now.”

  She turned her gaze away, not wanting him to read anything in her expression. “We should get moving before we draw anything else.”

  Malon was quiet for a moment. She could feel him watching her, speculating. “You are right. Lead the way.”

  Feeling badly shaken, she removed the compass from her belt pouch and started walking. She had hesitated. Malon didn’t know it, but for just a second, she’d considered not saving him. She had never fully forgiven him for what happened in Faerune, and Egrin’s taunting had only brought her worries back to the surface.

  She felt the remnants of Cindra’s magic still clinging to her. Or was it her magic? They were starting to seem like one and the same. It scared her almost as much as that greater demon. Perhaps more. Because Malon was right, either of them could now best a demon. The thing they needed to be afraid of was themselves. Or more importantly, each other.

  Elmerah

  Elmerah gnawed on a piece of bread from a loaf she had swiped on their way out of town. She didn’t love the idea of stealing, but she was starving, and she would put survival before morals any day. At least to a certain extent. When she had offered Alluin and Killian portions of the bread, neither had accused her of wrongdoing.

  Now if she only had silverleaf sap and something alcoholic to ease the pain of her arrow wound. While her burns were a minor annoyance, the deeper wound throbbed like a second heartbeat, making it difficult to breathe.

  “I hear voices up ahead,” Alluin cautioned from behind her.

  She stopped walking, pausing her chewing long enough to listen. Female voices carried on the wind over the sound of bird chatter and small animals darting through the underbrush.

  “Some of the elves from the ship,” Killian commented, his Nokken hearing even more keen than an elf’s.

  Elmerah took his word for it, and didn’t bother hiding as two elves were revealed coming around a bend in the path. While she didn’t particularly care for Vessa, it warmed her heart to see her. After all he had lost, Alluin didn’t need to lose his sister too. The second elf at her side, however, Elmerah could have done without.

  Vail spotted her, her eyes narrowing, then moving to Alluin as he stepped past Elmerah down the path to meet them.

  Killian remained beside Elmerah, his human disguise still in place. “More coming,” he whispered. “I smell your sister, she smells a bit like Akkeri.”

  Her jaw clenched. “Do not accuse her of anything, she’ll only lie. Just keep an eye on her. Let me know if you notice anything else.”

  Rissine appeared around the bend, spotting Elmerah and Killian beyond the gathered elves. She seemed unharmed, if a little dirty. Zirin came next, favoring one leg.

  “Are we going over there?” Killian whispered.

  She sighed. “Remember what I told you.” She started walking, wondering just what Rissine would have to say for herself. If she even mentioned anything at all.

  Alluin turned as she came near. “Vail managed to hold onto some supplies. She can properly tend your wound.”

  “Wound?” Rissine asked sharply, moving around the elves to look Elmerah up and down. A suspicious glare had Killian losing his disguise.

  Elmerah unbuttoned her coat, then tugged one side of her loose blouse over her shoulder.

  Rissine stepped closer, observing the bandages.

  Elmerah could just barely smell the fishy scent Killian had mentioned. She took a step away from her sister. “Merwyn and Celen are down on the shore. You haven’t come across Isara, have you?”

  Rissine shook her head. “We saw Celen and Merwyn. A few elves are waiting with them now. As for Isara . . . ” She shook her head. “Vessa saw the daft girl run below decks as my ship was sinking. We believe she was trying to rescue her brother.” Rissine stepped close again, moving Elmerah’s shirt aside before tugging at her bandages.

  Elmerah stepped back, out of reach of her sister. “And no one went after her?”

  Vail glared at her. “I didn’t see you risking your life to save her.”

  Heat crept across Elmerah’s cheeks. “My apologies, I was only skewered by an arrow and half-conscious.”

  Alluin stepped between them, his attention on her with his back to Vail. “We don’t know that she didn’t make it out. Let’s not jump to conclusions so soon.”

  He knew her far too well to so quickly reach the heart of her anger. If Isara was gone, no one could neutralize Egrin’s magic. Not only that, but the timid sparrow had edged herself into the small group of people that Elmerah called friends.

  She nodded once to Alluin, then turned back to her sister. “What do we do now?”

  Rissine watched her for a moment. “We find a ship, but first you let the healer tend that wound.”

  While she had been thinking of it just a moment before, having her sister comment on it made her want to refuse the healing, but she gritted her teeth and nodded. She was feeling spiteful, not stupid.

  Vail, however, didn’t seem terribly enthused with the prospect. Despite the distaste showing on her lovely features, she hefted a small satchel around her shoulder and stepped toward Elmerah. “You’ll need to remov
e your coat and shirt.”

  Elmerah rolled her eyes, then nodded toward some trees near the path. She wasn’t overly modest, but figured she may as well save Alluin and Killian the embarrassment. Zirin wouldn’t care.

  She finished unbuttoning her coat as she led the way toward the trees. Once she reached them, she hung her coat from a lower branch, then removed her blouse to reveal her stained underthings. Her wound protested every movement, the bandages stiff with dried blood.

  Vail came to stand before her. Even after the ordeal of surviving a sinking ship, she looked well. Her tanned skin seemed to soak up the sunlight. Her rich brown hair had dried perfectly straight and glistening, even after a dip in the salty sea. “It’s easier if you sit.”

  Wincing, Elmerah sat in the grass and leaned her back against the tree.

  Vail removed fresh bandages from her satchel, now lightly stained with sea water, and handed them to Elmerah. The bandages were still slightly damp, but better than the ones she currently wore. Vail searched through the rest of her satchel’s contents, coming out with a small vial of silverleaf sap. She handed that to Elmerah too, then knelt beside her to start undoing her old bandages.

  Elmerah clenched her jaw while Vail went to work, refusing to show how much it hurt.

  “You Arthali are a tough lot,” Vail commented. “Zirin didn’t so much as flinch while I tended his wound, and his is a lot worse than yours.”

  She took the vial from Elmerah’s waiting hand, uncorked it, and started dabbing sap onto the injury. It did little to dull the pain, but it would keep infection from setting in, if it wasn’t already too late. Her eyes lingered on a spot closer to Elmerah’s collarbone, and she realized the blue mark on her skin was showing. The mark spanned outward with tiny tendrils like forks of lightning. She had incurred it when one of the Fogfaun healed her after she killed a greater demon.

  Noticing her gaze, Vail dutifully turned her attention back to Elmerah‘s wound. “We lost three of our people during the attack. Vessa is telling Alluin now.”

  She could hear their muttering voices on the path, but hadn’t been able to make out the words. Now she was glad she didn’t share in the elves’ keen hearing. She selfishly didn’t want to see how the news would affect Alluin.

  “You have brought him much loss,” Vail commented.

  Elmerah jolted at her words, hissing as Vail’s fingers pressed against her wound. “What did you just say to me?” she asked lowly.

  “You heard me. If he would have stayed with his people where he belonged, he would not have lost so many.”

  Elmerah stared at her, but Vail kept her eyes on the wound. “What is your problem with me? We hardly know each other, but I get the feeling you don’t like me.”

  Vail finished dabbing at the sap, then took the bandages from Elmerah’s hand. “I’m sure that feeling is mutual. Alluin and Vessa may be willing to trust you witches, but I am not so foolish.”

  “Then why set sail with Rissine? You could have stayed in Faerune.”

  Vail pursed her lips as she began bandaging the wound. “The others were going. Vessa talked them into it because she wanted to find her brother. I wanted to find him too, but I also couldn’t send them off without a healer. I came to watch over them, and now three of them are lost.”

  Elmerah turned her eyes forward, not wanting to look at the healer as she asked her next question. “And you blame me? You blame me for their deaths?”

  “You, and your sister. You run off on your own because you are powerful enough to survive. Most of us aren’t so lucky.” She tied off the bandage, but stayed near Elmerah’s side. “If you were a true friend to Alluin, you would send him back to his people. You and your sister can see to the emperor yourselves. Alluin has no magic. You don’t need him to help you.” She stood, gathered her things, and walked back toward the path.

  Elmerah stayed seated in the grass for a moment, fury and embarrassment warring within her. Vail was right. They didn’t need Alluin to help kill the emperor . . .

  But that didn’t mean that she didn’t need him. Was it selfish of her to rely on him so much? To put him in danger when he had no magic?

  She knew the answer was yes, but she also knew she wouldn’t try to send him away. Not when he was the only thing holding her together.

  Isara

  Isara was bone-tired, but she continued walking. At least she had found some seathorn berries to eat along the way. The round orange berries were a bit tart, but with nothing else to eat or drink, she was grateful for them. She popped another one into her mouth as she walked, her hair frothing about her face in the ocean breeze.

  After the night of rest, they had decided to return to the shore and walk from there. It was their best chance of finding anyone who might help them.

  “You better hope you don’t keel over from those berries,” Daemon grumbled behind her. “You shouldn’t just eat any old thing you find. They could be poisonous.”

  She ate another berry, savoring the sour juice. “You know, there are benefits to reading books every now and then. Benefits like being able to identify the native plants of different regions.”

  “My apologies, I’ve only been busy helping to run an empire.”

  She glanced back at him. “You speak as if Egrin actually cares for the Empire. I don’t believe he does. I think he has only his own goals in mind, and he cares not what you do.”

  He caught up to walk at her side. His clothing and hair had fully dried by the fire overnight, and his curls now puffed out around his face. “He may be a demon, but he has done a lot for Galterra. The people are happy there.”

  His words tasted more sour than the berries. While it had been years since she’d visited the Capital, she had not remembered it as a happy place. Sure, the people were protected by high walls and the militia, but there were large gaps in the social classes and crime ran rampant in the slums.

  She glanced at her brother, wondering if he had ever even been to the slums. “And you were happy there?”

  She didn’t miss the flicker of hesitation in his eyes. “Happy enough.”

  “And you were happy roaming around with Dreilore? Did you ever stop to think that one of those under your command might have been our father’s murderer?”

  He stopped walking. Placing his hands on his hips, he looked her up and down. “Just what would you like me to say? That I enjoy the company of Dreilore? I assure you, I do not. But they now protect Galterra from the Faerune and Valeroot threat.”

  She wrinkled her nose. “There is no Faerune and Valeroot threat. There never was.”

  His cruel smile made her sick to her stomach. “As far as the people of Galterra are concerned, the elves would see the whole city destroyed. While I do not enjoy the Dreilore, they are a necessary part of Egrin’s plan.”

  She crossed her arms, waiting patiently. “Which is?”

  He tsked at her. “I think not, dear sister. If your witches are the only way for us to get off this godsforsaken island, then I won’t offer you any information to feed to them.”

  “You’ve given up on Egrin rescuing you?”

  Another flicker of hesitation made her suspect he was hiding more than just Egrin’s plans from her. “Well he hasn’t come yet,” he answered curtly. “And I’m not about to starve waiting for him. As for our father’s murderer, Egrin has sworn to me that he’ll find out what really happened.”

  She shook her head and started walking. “You shouldn’t pretend to care.”

  He caught up to her again. “I’m not the one who ran away. Some might think you were the one who didn’t care.”

  She acted without thinking, and only realized what she’d done when her hand was left stinging from colliding with Daemon’s face.

  He stared at her in shock, rubbing his bright red cheek. “You are most certainly not the sister I remember.”

  She bit back tears. “No, I am not, and you would do well to not forget it.” She clenched her hands into fists and kept walking, un
willing to let him see her cry. Unwilling to let him see the truth.

  Because in reality, she was exactly the girl he used to know. Scared to death, and unsure what to do. Completely reliant on others to guide her.

  And she knew, deep down, Daemon was the same.

  Chapter Six

  Elmerah

  Elmerah sat across from her sister, slurping her fill of fish stew. It wasn’t her favorite dish, flavored heavily with kelp, but she was so hungry she would eat slugs if it came to it. After she cleaned her bowl, she downed her second mug of vibrant wine made from tart berries gathered on the island. While spice and provisions trade with pirates was frequent, the local fare dominated.

  Her sister watched her with a scrutinizing eye. She looked tired—older. Elmerah knew it wasn’t true, powerful witches aged slowly, but still, her sister seemed different now.

  Rissine glanced down at Elmerah’s empty bowl, then up to her face. “You know, you could say thank you.”

  She set down her empty mug. “Yes, I could, but I won’t. Leave it to you to be the only one to hang onto her coin purse on a sinking ship.”

  Rissine pushed her own empty bowl away with a sour expression.

  A few fishermen seated at another table in the small doorless hut gave them occasional glances, but didn’t pay them too much mind. In a place like this, people tended to their own business. It was an unwritten code, part of why she had remained so long. Evening was wearing on. Soon the men would finish their suppers and go home to rest.

  Rissine crossed her arms beneath her emerald coat and leaned back in her chair. “I’m surprised you didn’t offer to help the elves in their search for Isara, given that you used to live here.”

  Elmerah lowered the finger she had started to lift to summon another mug of wine. “How did you know?”

  “Well I did have to find you before I had you kidnapped. Most may pass unnoticed in these parts, but a pureblood Arthali witch will stand out anywhere. Even one living in a pathetic hut far from port.”