Time's Demon

by D. B. Jackson

  As soon as they could see beyond the deck, every person on the Sea Dove looked skyward.

  Ermond spotted them first: six distant, large shapes, circling over the sea on broad wings, muscular legs stretched out behind them.

  A soft cry sounded from below. Sofya was awake.

  “I’ll go to her,” Tobias said. As he passed Mara, his hand brushed hers. They shared the most fleeting of smiles.

  The Belvora glided well beyond the range of the crew’s muskets and pistols. Mara guessed that they would track the vessel through the day, but wait for nightfall before attacking.

  “I’m not sure how many nights we can remain awake with a mist demon,” Captain Larr said from behind Mara. “Eventually, we have to fight them.”

  Mara turned. “If they sense my magick from that distance, and if I remain on deck, we might lure them here before sunset.”

  The captain narrowed her gaze. “You and your husband are far too alike.”

  “It’s us they want,” Mara said. “The least we can do is act as bait–”

  “Yes, yes. He said as much last night. I still don’t like the idea.”

  “Do you have a better one?”

  Larr glared at the circling demons. “No.”

  “I know Belvora,” Mara said, dropping her voice. “Better than Tobias does, and better than I know Shonla. In my future, they were everywhere in Windhome Palace, watching over us like guards in a prison. They don’t tire, and they don’t surrender, but they also don’t rely on cunning or deep thinking. If we can trick them into flying closer, we can kill them.”

  “And by trick them–”

  “They don’t want the rest of you. They feed on magickal beings. That means Tobias and me.”

  The captain continued to track the Belvora. In time, she sighed. “What do you have in mind?” she asked, surrender in her voice.

  “The pinnace.”

  Larr rounded on her. “No. Absolutely not.”

  Mara merely stared back at her.

  The captain blew out another breath. “What would you do?” Her plan wasn’t complicated. Half a dozen of them, each armed with two muskets and two pistols, would row some distance from the ship and wait for the Belvora to attack. The Dove would remain near enough to come to their aid if the battle went poorly, though Mara knew a vessel the size of Larr’s ship couldn’t respond swiftly enough to save them.

  Larr balked at the idea; the crew didn’t. The captain had nine volunteers before she even agreed to Mara’s suggestion. Within a half-bell, they had lowered the pinnace to the water. Tobias and Mara climbed the rat lines down to the boat and were joined by Bramm, Ermond, Larr herself, and Jacq, one of the younger crewmen, who was said to be a fine marksman.

  Bramm and Ermond rowed the pinnace some distance from the Sea Dove, and shipped the oars. The Belvora continued to circle, their bodies dark against pale gray clouds.

  “What if they don’t come?” Ermond asked after the boat had bobbed on the swells for some time.

  Tobias didn’t look away from the demons. “They’ll come.”

  “But if they don’t–”

  “We could fire at them,” Jacq said. “Draw their notice.”

  Mara and Tobias shared a glance.

  “It’s not a bad idea,” she said. “We have enough ammunition, and they’re far enough away that we’d have time to reload.”

  They turned to Larr.

  She shrugged. “I don’t like any of this, but if we’re going to see it through, let’s get on with it.” She swiveled to face Jacq. “You may fire, Mister Sarrage.”

  Jacq grinned and brushed back a shock of wheaten hair. He stood in the boat, setting his feet without upsetting its balance. He lifted his musket, aimed, and pulled the trigger. The open sea seemed to swallow the musket’s report.

  The sailor didn’t hit any of the demons. But after gliding one last circle, the Belvora reeled toward the boat.

  Jacq reloaded.

  “Well,” Larr said, “we’ve got a fight on our hands now.”

  The others didn’t speak, but marked the demons’ advance, each with a musket in hand, and another, also loaded, at the ready.

  The Belvora flew swiftly, closing on the pinnace. As they neared the vessel, and came within range of the firearms, they divided, tucked their wings, and dove. In an instant, what had been an orderly formation burst into a whirling storm of wings and talons and teeth.

  Mara, Tobias, and the others twisted and turned in place, trying to track the creatures with the sights of their weapons. Their movements increased the pitch and roll of the boat, complicating their task. All of them missed with their first shots.

  Mara grabbed for her other musket, knowing that if they missed again they would be in grave peril from the demons.

  “Don’t fire at once,” Larr said, aiming herself. “Each of you pick out a target. I’ll go first.”

  She tracked one of the demons for nearly a fivecount and then squeezed off a shot.

  The Belvora screeched, veered, and climbed higher on labored wing-beats. Tobias fired next and also struck one of the Belvora. It fell and thrashed in the water. Mara’s shot struck a demon in the chest. It flipped over in flight and plunged to the swells. She didn’t see it move again.

  “Nice shot,” Ermond said, tracking one of the demons.

  Pale smoke hung over the pinnace, stinging Mara’s nose.

  Ermond’s musket boomed, but he missed his target. So did Bramm. Jacq’s second volley struck a demon in the forehead. Mara thought it must have died before it hit the sea.

  Two of the demons remained uninjured. All the muskets needed reloading. Pistol fire probably wouldn’t reach the Belvora until they were too close for safety.

  Mara and the others scrambled to reload, glancing at the sky repeatedly. It didn’t take the demons long to understand that for the moment they were safe. The two that remained unhurt wheeled toward the pinnace, attacking it from opposite sides, soaring at startling speed.

  Someone cursed. A bullet bounced on the bottom of the boat and rolled. Ermond started to crawl after it.

  “Leave it!” Larr said. “We have more.”

  The captain was first to reload and aim again. Tobias raised his weapon as well. The two Belvora twisted their wings and swooped up and out of range.

  Ermond finished loading. Stood.

  Only then did Mara notice the faint shadow that fell across the boat.

  “Ermond!”

  The sailor spun, threw up an arm. A pale shape crashed into him and carried him overboard, nearly tipping the boat.

  The wounded Belvora, the one the captain hit with her second shot. Mara had forgotten it. All of them had.

  The demon and Ermond struggled in the brine. The Belvora fought with only one arm. Still Ermond couldn’t escape it. They flailed and splashed. Blood stained the water. Mara finished reloading and tried for a clear shot at the creature. But she feared hitting Ermond instead. Tobias had a pistol in hand, but he didn’t dare shoot either.

  Jacq shouted a warning. Larr jerked herself away from Ermond’s battle and fired at an attacking Belvora. It sprawled into the sea, skipped once across the water’s surface and went still in the swells.

  The last unhurt demon hovered above the pinnace, then banked away.

  “Mister Sarrage!” Larr called.

  Two muskets thundered in quick succession. The last Belvora spasmed and dropped to the sea. Jacq and Tobias shared a glance.

  Mara turned back to Ermond’s battle with the Belvora. Ermond bled from gashes on his neck and face and back. The demon pounded at him with its good fist. It was all the sailor could do to protect himself.

  “Row me closer!” Mara said, aiming her musket again. There had to be a way to get off one shot.

  Before Bramm and Larr could do as she commanded, something flashed in Ermond’s hand. A blade. Seeing this, Mara knew a moment of hope. He plunged his knife into the demon’s chest. At the same time, the Belvora slashed at his neck with a c
lawed hand. Blood thickened the brine. Both of them ceased their struggles.

  “No!” Tobias gripped the side of the pinnace. “No! Get us closer!” Bramm and the captain rowed the pinnace to where the bodies floated, but by the time they reached them, there was nothing to be done. Mara and Tobias pulled Ermond’s body into the pinnace. The wound at his neck gaped, more horrible for having been washed clean of blood.

  Jacq beheaded the demon with his sword and left it floating in the sea. Bramm and the captain oared the pinnace in a grim circle from one Belvora to the next. Jacq took off all their heads. They had to shoot one of them first. When all the demons were dead, Bramm and Jacq rowed them back toward the Sea Dove.

  Mara and Tobias sat opposite the captain. Larr stared at Ermond’s corpse, lips pressed thin.

  “They shouldn’t have gone for him,” Tobias said, his voice leeched of emotion. “They were supposed to come after us.”

  “Belvora are hunters, Mister Lijar. They don’t discriminate.”

  “They hunt magick.”

  “Ermond had magick,” Mara said, the realization coming as an epiphany.

  Larr scowled. “What are you talking about?”

  “Ujie. The Arrokad. She made him younger, gave him back the years he’d lost. It’s possible that Arrokad magick lingered in him, and the Belvora sensed it.”

  Larr paled. “Blood and bone. I never thought of that. If I had–”

  “None of us knew,” Mara said. “How could we?”

  When they reached the ship, members of the crew brought Ermond’s body aboard and prepared it for burial at sea. Larr locked herself in her quarters. Tobias and Mara took Sofya to the prow of the vessel and spent the day singing to her, telling her stories, pointing out seabirds as they glided past.

  Near sunset, Larr emerged from her quarters to preside over a simple, brief ceremony. She spoke of Ermond’s bravery, his solid competence, his wit. As Bramm and Jacq slipped his body into the sea, Yadreg led them in a sailor’s paean.

  Salt in the sweat of my sisters and brothers;

  Salt in the blood that calls us to sail and roam;

  Salt in the sea of Kheraya, the Mother;

  Salty our tears as we commit you to swell and foam.

  Night fell, and the crew lit the usual number of torches to mount on the deck. Not long after, a roiling mass of vapor floated into view just above the sea’s surface. It remained off the port rail as the Sea Dove tacked north and west.

  Captain Larr had returned to the wheel. She beckoned to Tobias and Mara and pointed at the Shonla mist. “Your friend is back.”

  “Surely he can tell that the Belvora are gone,” Tobias said.

  Mara scanned the sky as he spoke. Doing so had become habit. “Probably,” she said. “But we promised him song again tonight.”

  Larr nodded, and adjusted the ship’s course. “Then shall we douse the torches?”

  Tobias glanced at Mara, eyed the captain. “I know how you feel about Shonla. I assumed that with the danger past, we’d sail on and keep the torches burning.”

  “We can do that, but as your wife says, we promised the creature song. And I’ve sailed between the oceans long enough to see the wisdom in pleasing an Ancient.” Her gaze roamed the ship, the lines around her mouth tightening. “I think another night of song might do all of us some good,” she said, her voice lower.

  Tobias didn’t answer.

  Mara took his hand. “Of course, captain. We’ll tell the others.”

  They started away.

  “No one blames you,” Larr said, forcing them to face her again. “I know I don’t. We agreed long ago to take you on, and once you became crew…” She opened one hand, a gesture of surrender and acceptance. “We protect one another against any enemy. You would have fought for him, just as he fought for you.”

  “Yes,” Mara said. “We would have.”

  “Then stop blaming yourselves.” Larr stared hard at Tobias. “You in particular, Mister Lijar. By assuming guilt, you dishonor his sacrifice. Let it go.”

  The muscles in Tobias’s jaw tightened, but he nodded.

  They extinguished all the torches but the one on the center mast and marked Shaf’s cloud as it drifted closer and enveloped the vessel.

  The air chilled. Mara knelt to tighten the too-large overshirt draped around Sofya’s shoulders. As she did, Sofya pointed past her and asked, “Who that, Mama?”

  Mara picked her up and approached the demon, who again hovered near the prow. “His name is Shaf,” she said, eyeing the Shonla. “He’s our friend.”

  Shaf glided closer. “You name me a friend, human?” he asked, the words viscous.

  The tone of the creature’s question gave Mara pause. No doubt there was significance to declaring oneself the friend of an Ancient. Certainly Droë thought so. “What would it mean if I had?”

  “Do not fear. It is not a bargain and carries no cost. It implies few obligations beyond the obvious: a promise not to harm, an invitation to keep company, an openness to commerce in the future.”

  “You wouldn’t prey on my ship?” Captain Larr asked.

  “I would accept song in place of screams. And as your friend, I would offer the opportunity to give one before attempting to take the other.” He didn’t wait for a reply. “The Belvora are gone. Did you drive them off? Did they leave you?”

  “They’re dead,” Larr said. “As is a member of my crew.”

  Shaf nodded, seeming unmoved by the crew’s loss. “You are resourceful. I do not normally treat with humans. But a… a friendship with this vessel and those on it might serve my interests as well as yours.” He turned back to Mara. “I would accept you as friends and name you such in return, if the offer was genuine.”

  “May we discuss it among ourselves?” Larr asked.

  “Of course.”

  “Good. In the meantime, we would sing for you again.”

  Another smile. “That would please me.”

  Yadreg produced his lute and tuned the instrument. Other members of the crew gathered around him. Soon they were playing and singing. The Shonla looked on in a sort of contented trance.

  The captain, Tobias, and Mara retreated to the middle of the ship. Tobias kept an eye on Sofya, who bobbed and danced from one person to the next.

  “For all we know, there are more Belvora waiting for us between here and the Ring,” Larr said. “And being in the good graces of an Ancient might help us in ways we can’t even imagine right now. First, though, I need to know, what are the potential perils?”

  Mara shrugged. “The obvious. Befriending an Ancient might imply more than we can anticipate, or ensnare us in obligations we don’t yet understand.”

  “Have you ever claimed friendship of an Ancient?”

  “We both have,” Mara said before Tobias could answer. His brow creased. “Droë,” she said. To the captain, she added, “A Tirribin in Windhome. Tobias knew her in his time, and I in mine. I believe she accepted both of us as friends.”

  “And?”

  “Ancients are unpredictable and difficult,” Tobias said. “Their customs and traditions go back to a time when the world belonged solely to them. That said, there might also be consequences to refusing an offer of friendship.”

  “I spoke rashly,” Mara said. “I was trying to reassure Nava. I’m sorry.”

  The captain waved off the apology, and they joined the singing. The crew entertained the Shonla for several bells, until even Yadreg started to tire. He finished one last song, and the captain came forward to bid Shaf farewell.

  “Perhaps we will meet again,” the Shonla said. “I do enjoy the music on this vessel.”

  “You’re welcome any time,” Larr told the demon. “We would like you to consider us your friends.”

  “So I shall, and you shall be mine.” The Shonla sketched a small bow. Moments later, the cloud moved on, leaving the ship in warm breezes under a star-filled sky.

  Larr followed the cloud with her gaze and ordered the crew to r
elight the torches. Sofya had fallen asleep in Tobias’s arms. He carried her into the hold.

  “You did well to name it a friend,” the captain said, so only Mara would hear. “We may never see the creature again, or we might need its protection tomorrow. Either way, I’ll sleep better tonight knowing we can call on it for help.” She flashed a smile and started back toward her quarters.

  Mara followed Tobias below.

  Over the next ha’turn and more, the Sea Dove continued its slow, crooked course toward the Inward Sea. The winds continued to blow against them, though not with the force of those first days out from the Knot.

  They encountered no more Belvora, and for several days after Shaf left them, didn’t even spot another ship. Still, Mara sensed that Tobias’s apprehension grew with every league they covered. He said little and spent much of his time with Sofya, playing with her, talking to her, singing her favorite songs.

  In contrast, Mara welcomed a return to more crowded waters. Where Tobias saw risk, she saw the safety of numbers. Alone on the swells, they were an obvious target. On the Inward Sea, they would be one ship among many.

  First, though, they needed to gain entry to the Ring.

  As they neared Kantaad again, after passing the Lost Children, they spotted warships.

  The captain couldn’t determine from this distance whether they were Daerjeni war eagles or Aiyanthan frigates. They weren’t large enough to be Oaqamaran marauders, but that hardly mattered. Tobias, Sofya, and she had as much to fear from the Daerjeni navy as from the autarchy. Perhaps more.

  Larr angled them northward, toward Rencyr, a course they followed throughout that day and the next. To no avail. Warships patrolled every gap that allowed access to the Inward Sea, and likely the entry to the Sea of the Labyrinth as well.

  Tobias might have preferred to continue northward to Chayde and Flynse, but Captain Larr was determined to reach Aiyanth and begin their search for Bound devices. Mara was trapped between.

  “If we can avoid the Daerjenis and deal with the Aiyanthans, we should be fine,” Larr told them that night. “The Aiyanthans have no love for either the Sheraighs or the Oaqamarans.” She grinned. “And they’re notoriously easy to bribe.”