Shadowed by Demons, Book 3 of the Death Wizard Chronicles (9 page)

The more the innkeeper spoke, the more annoyed Lucius became. He had obeyed Torg’s wishes and entered Duccarita willingly. But now the whole affair seemed like folly.

“All along, you’ve been saying that we must avoid Duccarita, and all along I’ve agreed with you,” Lucius said, surprising the others with his vehemence. “But then this Jord creature appears out of nowhere and changes your mind. And now we’re even worse off than before. With the eagles gone, how are we going to escape? Rakkhati says there are more than just thieves wandering the streets, but there are more than just monsters too.

“Golden soldiers and other servants of the sorcerer frequent Duccarita. And what if Invictus finds out we’re here and pays a personal visit? If that were to happen, everything else that wanders the streets will seem like fuzzy little bunny rabbits.
So please enlighten me
: How do we get out of here?”

Rakkhati’s eyes widened, Lucius’ unexpected outburst obviously stunning him. “Would you have me silence him, lord?” he said to Torg.

Lucius tensed and started to stand, his face feeling flushed and swollen, but Torg reached over, quick as a snake, and placed his hand on Lucius’ knee. Instantly, a surge of soothing energy slid up his thigh, and his body went temporarily limp.

“I would not have you silence him,” Torg said to Rakkhati, while still looking at Lucius. “He does not yet know me well enough to be aware of who I am.”

Torg removed his hand, but Lucius still found it difficult to move.

“Allow Rakkhati to finish, and then I will reveal my intentions.”

Lucius nodded.

The innkeeper appeared puzzled. “These are indeed strange times when one such as he can be permitted to speak thusly to a king of kings.”

“Strange doesn’t begin to describe it,” Rathburt added.

Rakkhati raised an eyebrow, then continued. “As I said before, I have become well-connected within the City of Thieves and have learned a great many things that others do not know. The importation of Daasa slaves from across the ocean has increased every year. It used to be that slaves were brought here from all over the north: fishermen from the coast of Akasa, settlers from the borders of Dhutanga, savages from Mahaggata—”at that, Elu scowled, “—and villagers from the banks of the Ogha. But more recently, the slave traders have become obsessed with the pink-skins. There are obvious reasons for this. Avici desires them by the tens of thousands and pays in gold. And the Porisādas also covet them, for their flesh is said to be tender and sweet. But these are not the only reasons. Have any of you ever heard rumors of the Mahanta pEpa?”

Lucius spoke again. “I once heard Mala say those words.”

At the mention of the Chain Man, Rakkhati leapt to his feet and drew a dagger from his belt. Before he could attack, Torg sprang up and wrenched the weapon from his grasp. The dagger dropped to the floor and stuck point-down in the hard wood. Rakkhati stared at Lucius, his eyes wild and angry.

“Who
is
this man?” the innkeeper said to Torg.

“All you need know is that he is a trusted companion,” the wizard said. “If you threaten him again, I will do more than squeeze your wrist.” Torg released him and returned to his chair.

Lucius settled back in his seat, but his heart was pounding. Laylah seemed shaken. Rathburt looked like he wished he were somewhere else.

In an attempt to diffuse the tension, Rakkhati faced Lucius and bowed his head.

“I apologize for my behavior. It’s just that I do not take the mention of Mala lightly. The Chain Man has visited Duccarita on several occasions, and he was terrible to behold. When you spoke of him in such a blithe manner, it
 . . .
shocked me.”

Lucius grunted. “Don’t think that my previous association with Mala means I respect him. There are few, if any, on Triken who hate him more than I.”

That seemed to satisfy Rakkhati. He drew the dagger from the floor and replaced it in his belt. Then he sat back down. “When you heard Mala speak those words, did he tell you their meaning?” the innkeeper asked.

“No. But it seemed to me that he said them with reverence, which is highly unusual for the Chain Man. About the only thing he respects is Invictus.”

“I know the meaning of the words,” Torg said. “But I have never associated them with Duccarita until Jord described the wickedness that holds sway over the Daasa. In the ancient tongue,
Mahanta pEpa
means Great Evil.”

“In the City of Thieves, those words hold special meaning,” the innkeeper said. “As Jord must have already told you, the
Mahanta pEpa
resides somewhere within our walls—and is rumored to have done so for decades. But I do not believe it was born here. Like the Daasa, the Great Evil came from across the ocean, and like Avici and the Mogols, it hungers for the flesh of the pink slaves.”

Rathburt finally spoke, though his voice quivered. “Lucius is right. Weren’t we already in enough trouble? We’re being harried by an army of monsters, but instead of running away, we come to a place where an even more hideous creature holds sway. Do you really think we can destroy it?”

“I am not to be taken lightly,” Torg said in a steely tone. “I have
chosen
to come here to destroy the Great Evil that resides within the City of Thieves. Have you forgotten Jord’s words already? If the
Mahanta pEpa
is destroyed, the Daasa will be freed.”

Then Torg turned to Lucius. “How will we escape Duccarita, you ask? On the heels of an army
 . . .
your
army.”

TORG RECOGNIZED the amazement in Lucius’ face. A lot had been sprung on the firstborn in a short time, but Torg knew no other way. The forces of good needed allies.

Elu was first to break the silence. “Tell us your plan, great one.”

Torg looked down and smiled at the Svakaran. The tiny warrior had the spirit of a Tyger.

Rathburt interrupted his reverie. “If it means leaving us here while you go off gallivanting again, then it sounds good to me. We’ll stay by the fire and drink the rest of the ale. Come and get us when you’re finished.”

“I is going with Master Hah-nah!” Ugga said. “There’s no way Bard and I will let him go off by himself.”

“No way,” Bard agreed.

“They’re right,” Laylah said. “You had better include all of us, even Rathburt.”

Torg chuckled wearily. “My friends
 . . .
let me tell you my plan before you so readily decide to be a part of it. From the beginning, it depends on whether Rakkhati and Bonny will agree to it. Without them, we cannot succeed.”

“Bonny and I are at your service,” Rakkhati said.

“Very well,” Torg said. Then he looked the innkeeper squarely in the eyes. “Can you lead me to the
Mahanta pEpa
? I want to destroy the creature—whatever it might be—before dawn.”

“I can show you the way,” Rakkhati said, though his voice trembled.

Lucius shook his fist in anger. “Why are you so
certain
that killing the
Mahanta pEpa
will free the Daasa? Just because Jord said so? And even if she was right, how can you know what will happen next? I’m not so convinced that the Daasa will instantly be at our beck and call. Rathburt’s right when he says this is madness.”

“In these dire times, I am certain of little,” Torg said. “But I have quickly come to believe in the words and wisdom of Jord. The demise of the Great Evil will release the might of the Daasa. Whether or not we can control them is another matter. But I have faith in you, general. You were born to lead the Daasa.”

“I’m glad you’re so confident in me,” Lucius said sarcastically. “But I have no idea how I could even
begin
to get them to follow me. As far as I knew, Invictus was the only person in Avici who could make any sense of their whistles and squeals.” Then he turned and spoke to Rakkhati directly, as if to ward off another confrontation. “And believe me, I’m no Invictus.”

“If Jord were still with us, our task would be simpler,” Torg said. “She would be able to communicate with them in ways we cannot. But when the great fall, the lesser must take their place. Lucius, you will not stand alone. Bard, Ugga, and Elu will be at your side, as will Rathburt. As a group, you’ll find a way, even without Jord to guide you.”

“There is something else you must know,” Rakkhati said to Lucius. “We cannot understand what the Daasa say, but they seem able to understand us. So maybe, yellow-hair, your task isn’t quite so impossible.”

“That’s good to know,” the firstborn said, with even more sarcasm. Then he swung back on Torg. “You left Laylah’s name out of the mix. Does that mean you intend to take her with you to hunt down the
Mahanta pEpa
? How can you love her and still be willing to put her in such peril?”

Laylah started to protest, but Torg interrupted her.

“Until Invictus is destroyed, we are all in peril—and Laylah more than any of us,” Torg said. “I would much prefer she be kept from danger of any kind, but the creature I intend to slay has powers that in some ways might be greater than mine. I will need Laylah with me. Her magic is also strong. Maybe she can find a way to defeat the Great Evil, if I cannot.”

Laylah was torn between conflicting emotions. Torg’s faith in her thrilled her, but Lucius’ constant meddling enraged her. She owed the firstborn her life, but she no longer owed him fealty. She had never intended to cause the general pain, but her love for Torg had grown stronger than her guilt. It was time Lucius stepped aside.

“And what if it’s more powerful than both of you?” she heard Lucius saying, rising from his chair. “How are you going to feel if
 . . .
”

“
LUCIUS
!”

Laylah shouted his name, with supernatural fury. The force of it knocked the firstborn off his feet back into the chair. The fire also reacted to her emanation, blazing from the hearth and scattering cinders across the floor. A particularly large one fell into Bard’s beard and began to sizzle.

“Somebody’s always trying to burn me up,” he said.

Laylah’s show of strength amazed Rakkhati, and he bowed.

Bonny, however, was less impressed. “Unless you want everybody in Duccarita knocking on our door, you had better not do that again. You were almost as loud as the dragon.”

Lucius stood, glared at Laylah, and then rushed down the hall to his room, slamming the door behind him.

There was an awkward silence. Laylah was the first to speak. “I’m sorry if I’ve endangered us. I had no idea my voice was going to be that loud. It even frightened me.”

“There’s no reason to say you’re sorry, pretty lady,” Elu said. “Lucius is nicer than he used to be, but he still complains almost as much as Rathburt. We’re
all
tired of it.”

“Hmmmph!” Rathburt said.

Bonny started to protest, but Torg stared her down. “Because we are friends as well as companions, I have permitted certain liberties. But even I have a temper, and none of you would like it if I turned my anger on you. Laylah is also dangerous. You can push either one of us only so far.”

Bonny’s face flushed and seemed to swell. Laylah felt guilty for creating such a fuss, but she knew Torg was right. Friendship was a wonderful thing, but a group facing this degree of peril needed leadership more than consensus.

“Sorceress, please forgive Bonny for her rash words,” Rakkhati said. “She has the recklessness of a pirate.”

“Enough of this,” Laylah said. “There’s nothing to forgive. I was wrong to overreact the way I did, but it’s over and can’t be undone.”

She turned to Torg. “I need to speak to Lucius
 . . .
alone. From what you’ve said about the Daasa, it sounds like we need his cooperation. He’ll be no good to us in this mood.”

Like a schoolgirl in class, Bonny raised her hand. “May I speak to him, Missus? No offense, but I doubt he’s in the mood to talk to you, if you know what I mean. Let me be the one to cheer him up.”

Laylah smiled. “That’s a wonderful idea.”

“But be quick about it,” Torg said. “It’s well past midnight. Time runs short.”

Suddenly pleased, Bonny winked and then sprinted down the hall.

Rakkhati chuckled. “The yellow-hair is in good hands. He’ll soon have a smile on his face wide enough to charm every Daasa in Duccarita.”

LUCIUS SAT down on the bed with a thump. Part of him felt like crying, but the rest was too exasperated. In truth he was angrier at himself than at Laylah. He knew in his heart that it was time to let go. Why couldn’t he find a way to turn off his emotions? He understood that things like this took time, but it felt like he was making little progress.

There was a tapping at his door. He looked up with delight, prepared to apologize profusely and promise he would never interfere again—if Laylah would just be his friend.

“Come in,” he said, as cheerfully as he could muster.

But when the door swung slowly open, his expression soured. Instead of Laylah, it was Bonny who entered, and she bore a rascally smile on her face, her teeth crooked but glistening white.

The pirate must have recognized his chagrin. Her smile faded. “Sorry to disappoint you. I just came to see if you needed anything.”

Lucius sighed. “I’m not good company right now.”

Bonny, it seemed, was incapable of experiencing anger, hurt, or sadness for more than a moment. Her smile returned. “Why don’t you let me be the judge of that,” she said, sitting next to him on the bed. And then she grabbed his face in her hands and pressed her lips against his mouth. When she pulled away, her dark eyes were glassy. “You are
very
good company, sweety. Why don’t you forget about the fancy bitch out there and give
me
a try? You and I were made for each other.”

At first, Lucius could barely speak. His face felt hot and swollen, and his body tingled. He was almost eighty years old, but this was the first time he had been kissed with such passion. “Why
 . . .
why do you like me so much?” was all he could manage.

She purred. “What’s not to like? You are handsome, strong, and brave. And I have always been partial to blond men, if you must know.”

Lucius attempted a smile. “If you knew more about me, you wouldn’t feel so partial. What
do
you know about me?”

“When I meet a person, I judge them from that first moment. You haven’t done anything bad to me, yet.”

Now Lucius did smile. “I liked the way you kissed me.”

“Then let me do it again.”