Lisa Shearin - The Trouble With Demons

“Not yet, sir.”

“Most of the best mages alive are on this island,” Justinius snapped. “Make them earn their keep and go slam that Hellgate shut; the work will do them good.”

“Unfortunately, sir, we suspect some of our most qualified mages are helping Rudra Muralin open it. At least six of them. And I’m certain he has more allies among the Conclave and/or our faculty.”

“Do you have names?”

Mychael nodded. “They’re all on your list.”

“Would those be the same enemies he’s watching slither out of hiding?” I asked.

“The very same.” Mychael handed Justinius a familiar folded parchment. “This was delivered to Tamnais Nathrach this morning. It’s Rudra Muralin’s demands.”

The old man took it. “Why Nathrach?”

I thought I’d answer that one. “He hates Tam more than anyone else on this island-besides me.”

Piaras gave me a questioning look.

“Rudra Muralin wants the Saghred,” I told him. “He’s made a deal with the demons; they get the Saghred for him, and in return, they get all of the students and mages on the island.”

Piaras stood straighter. “Sir, where’s Katelyn?”

“She’s safe,” Justinius told him, never taking his eyes off of the letter. He finished it, carefully folded it, and calmly handed it back to Mychael. “This Rudra Muralin. Exterminate him.”

I liked the old man’s choice of words.

“Now, what are you doing to find and close that Hellgate?” he asked.

Mychael told him the same thing he’d told me. Guardians, watchers, demonology faculty, and some grad students taking the ultimate final exam.

“That’s one problem and hopefully a solution,” I said, “but we have another one. A bigger one. Rudra Muralin wants the Saghred, and he’s opening a Hellgate to scare us into giving it to him. But the demon queen wants to release what’s inside the Saghred. I don’t know if Rudra Muralin knows about the Scythe of Nen and the queen’s plans. The cocky bastard might know and just not give a damn. But those demons do. The only thing we need less than Rudra Muralin and rampaging demons is a demon king freed for the first time in a couple of millennia-along with anyone or anything else that can squeeze out of the Saghred with him. There are no containments on that rock in your basement. If the demons get their claws on that Scythe of Nen, reach the Saghred, and open it-”

Mychael interrupted me. “Potentially thousands of souls looking for bodies to possess, and my Guardians will be first ones they find. Yes, I know. My men are aware of the danger and are taking measures to defend themselves.”

“I need to find out what this Scythe of Nen is and get it,” I told him. “Quickly.”

Mychael frowned. “You?”

“Yes, me. You know anyone else better qualified than a seeker and a Benares to find and make off with something valuable?” I turned to Justinius. “You wouldn’t happen to know what the Scythe of Nen is, would you?”

“Not a clue.”

I had no idea what time it was; my body was telling me it was way past time to get some sleep. I blew out my breath and gave the old man the shortened version of the demon queen’s demand delivered by her undead warriors at Sirens.

“So the demon queen and Sarad Nukpana both want this Scythe of Nen,” he said.

I nodded. “Right. Nukpana doesn’t know what it is, but the demons do. And to add a sick twist on this whole mess, the demon queen-or that bobbing, talking head thing she sent to Sirens-wouldn’t tell me. She thinks that I know what it is, where it is, and that I’m lying to keep her from getting it.”

“A scythe would indicate a blade of some kind,” Piaras offered. “Or so you’d think. But aren’t scythes large and used to harvest wheat or something?”

“Size is relative,” I said. “The Saghred is its own self-contained world. The smallest dagger would be massive if seen from inside.”

“Every type of steel, stone, and spell has been used to try to destroy-and open-the Saghred,” Mychael said. “Obviously none have succeeded.”

“Professor Berel was killed because the demons believed he had it,” I reminded them. “He was screaming that he didn’t have it-not that he didn’t know what it was.” I liked this train of thought; it might actually lead somewhere besides a dead end. “Professor Niabi said she didn’t know what Berel could have been carrying that the demons would want, but she did tell me that demonologists have all kinds of talismans and trinkets. She just might know what this Scythe of Nen is. If so, it’d save us time that we may not have. If not, I’ll just do it the old-fashioned way. Have the locations of the demon sightings been reported to you or the chief watcher?”

Mychael’s brow creased. “Both.” He didn’t know where I was going with this, but I finally did. At least I felt as if I knew something; it was a welcome change.

“It stands to reason that if the demons were sent to look for something, they’d pop up as close as possible to where they thought it was. Those locations just might help us do more than find that Hellgate.”

Justinius Valerian’s eyes were brilliantly bright. The old man hadn’t heard my entire idea, but he liked what I’d said so far-a lot. In an instant, Mychael’s solemn expression turned forbidding.

I held up my hands defensively. “I’m looking for the Scythe of Nen, not a pack of dark mages bent on world domination. Yes, I would love to get my hands around Rudra Muralin’s throat. All I’ve managed to do to him so far is leave my teethmarks in his ear.”

Justinius grinned impishly. “Your what?”

I told him about my tussle with Muralin on the catwalk above the stage at Sirens right after the goblin had tried to spellsing him to death.

Justinius laughed, a dry wheeze. “He tried to kill me, and you bit him.”

“ And used my knees, elbows, and fists anywhere on him I could get to. Unfortunately, that’s all I could do.”

“Sounds damned gratifying to me.”

“I didn’t get nearly as much out of it as I wanted.”

“A dead goblin.”

I nodded. “Would have been the ideal conclusion. And if I could have done that then, we probably wouldn’t be doing all of this now.” I rubbed my eyes. “What time is it?”

“Probably a little after two bells.”

The sun would be up in a few hours. “I don’t have time to sleep, but I need it,” I said.

“Yes, you do.” Mychael glanced at Piaras. “You both do.”

“Cadet, I have a spare room down the hall,” Justinius said.

“Until Mychael can get your big brothers on guard duty, you need to sleep somewhere warded. Sarad Nukpana can’t reach you here. And Miss Benares, I have a guest room right next to this one that you’re more than welcome to.” He winked. “Don’t worry. Your virtue’s safe with me.”

I snorted. “Because you don’t have the strength right now to get out of bed.”

“Sadly true.”

“Thanks for the offer, but I don’t want my sleep warded. I want Sarad Nukpana to come looking for me.”

I think I fell asleep somewhere between the bedroom door and the pillow.

I was back in the citadel guest room I’d occupied before I’d moved onto the Fortune . Mychael didn’t like what I was going to do. If I wouldn’t accept a ward, he at least wanted me guarded. I told him I was perfectly capable of having a nightmare by myself, but I conceded to the guard. This earned Vegard the mind-numbingly dull job of watching me sleep. He’d guard my physical body; protecting my dream self was my problem.

When I opened my eyes-or more accurately when my dream self opened her eyes-I wasn’t in my bedroom back home in Mermeia. I wasn’t really anywhere that I could determine. Part of my brain wondered if I was so exhausted that I couldn’t even conjure a decent setting-the other part of me didn’t give a damn because I had gotten what I wanted.