Peter Brett - The Core

She looked up, surprised to see Jardir bow in return. ‘Of course. I have never met a warrior, Shanvah vah Shanjat am’Damaj am’Kaji, who carried greater honour than you. Your father’s spirit sings with pride. When he is at last untethered and walks the lonely path, his steps will be lighter knowing he has left a worthy successor to carry on his blood.’

The words cleansed Shanvah’s aura once more, washing away the swirling colours with a pure white light.

Shanjat’s hands and feet were manacled. A short chain between them would allow him to sit but not to stand. The Par’chin warded the bindings himself, and Jardir could see the power in them.

If the kai’Sharum felt any discomfort at being so bound, he gave no sign as Jardir carried him like a child up the steps to Alagai Ka’s prison. But for his breathing Shanjat might have been dead, eyes staring blankly.

The demon looked up as they entered, tilting its head as Jardir crossed the wards, Shanvah covering his every step with her spear. He laid Shanjat in the centre of the room, then retreated outside the circles that held the demon prisoner.

But the demon did not move toward Shanjat, simply watching them with huge, inhuman eyes. Jardir could see the endless dark of Nie in those black pools, thoughts unknowable.

The Par’chin and his jiwah pulled open the heavy curtains. Night had fallen, but it was not the dark of Waning. Moonlight streamed through the windows and Alagai Ka hissed, scrambling to the centre of the room.

Jardir felt his skin crawl as the demon wrapped itself around Shanjat. Shanvah tightened her grip on her spear, aura like a taut bowstring. She ached to strike, killing demon and sire both, but she was one of Everam’s spear sisters, sprung of Jardir’s own Sharum blood. She embraced the pain and mastered it.

Shanjat looked up, eyes bright and alive once more. He turned to Shanvah, lip curling. ‘Everam curse me, to have sired such a pathetic excuse for a daughter. It would have been better for all if your Tikka had married you off before you could be sent to the Dama’ting Palace. Better if I had crushed your head when I saw you were only a girl.’

Shanvah kept her spear steady, but Jardir could see how the words tore across her aura.

‘Your brother would have saved me,’ Shanjat said. ‘Or at least done the honour of killing me.’

Shanvah’s tears glistened in the moonlight, but she held steady.

‘Do not listen to these poisonous words, niece,’ Jardir said. ‘It is not your father speaking.’

‘Oh, but it is,’ Shanjat said, laughing. It was so much like his friend’s great bellow that Jardir’s heart ached. ‘That is what makes it so delicious! This drone boasted to his brethren of the strong son growing in his mate. His first thought at the sight of you was disgust. He imagined killing you to save face.’

‘Stop it.’ The Par’chin’s jiwah stepped forward. ‘Need you alive, but that don’t mean we can’t cut a few bits off now that you can’t grow ’em back.’

The demon tilted its head, studying her. ‘What will your egg be?’ Shanjat asked. ‘Will your consort allow you to walk the path before us, once he learns you carry it?’

‘What’s he talkin’ about, Ren?’ the Par’chin asked.

‘Core if I know,’ Renna said.

‘Humans are so inefficient in their mating.’ Shanjat clicked his tongue. ‘Ten cycles of vulnerability for a single egg. But do not fear. We will keep you alive until the birth. The mind of a child is a delicious morsel – like the bird eggs you consume.’

Renna snarled, drawing her knife.

Jardir moved to block her path to the demon, but the Par’chin was faster. He blurred into mist, flowing across the room to re-form in her path. ‘Tryin’ to get a rise out of us, Ren. Tryin’ to get us mad enough to cross the wards, give it a chance to escape. Long as they hold we gotta stand fast, no matter what it says.’

Renna panted, struggling to master the rage boiling in her aura.

‘The Par’chin speaks true, sister,’ Shanvah said. ‘You told me yourself the princelings steal our thoughts, but speak only those that cut.’

Renna blew out a breath, glaring at the demon. ‘Odds are you taste like shit, but don’t think that means I won’t eat your brains, too.’

She meant the words. Jardir could see it on her aura, and knew the demon could, too. The creature seemed to think better of goading her further.

‘Ask your questions,’ Shanjat said. ‘This drone will serve as mouthpiece and mount as we travel the dark paths below.’

The Par’chin stepped forward. ‘Where is the surface entrance to the path?’

‘North and east,’ the demon said. ‘In the mountains not far from where you and the Heir held your primitive submission duel.’

‘Lands unclaimed by either side,’ Jardir said. ‘That is fitting, for such a quest.’

‘Unclaimed by you,’ Shanjat agreed, ‘but not unclaimed.’

‘Who, then?’ Jardir demanded.

‘The factions of your surface stock are meaningless to me. They provided fresh minds for my larder on my last visit.’

Jardir clenched a fist but did not take the bait. ‘Is the path guarded?’

‘Magic flows to the surface strongly from a vent that size. Drones are drawn to the area, but they do not truly understand what they protect.’

‘How far to demon town once we find this cave?’ the Par’chin asked.

‘Weeks even for a mimic drone,’ Shanjat said. ‘Whole cycles for the slow and clumsy limbs of humans.’

‘There food on the way?’ the Par’chin asked. ‘Clear water?’

‘So much power, and not the slightest idea how to use it. The energies of the Core can sustain you without need for feeding.’

‘You don’t need to eat?’ Renna asked. ‘Then why keep a larder? Why raid the surface?’

Shanjat smiled. ‘Why do your kind drink fermented fruit and grain? Why do you sing and dance?’

The Par’chin shook his head. ‘More than that. Can’t make something from nothing. Might not need food often, but you need it. Queens most of all.’

Shanjat nodded. ‘My brethren can exist without, but none of us does so willingly. Queens at laying must feed – and our hatchlings. Those most of all. Soon hives will fill your lands, each springing forth thousands of hungry hatchling drones to pick the surface clean.’

Renna gritted her teeth. ‘That a long way o’ sayin’ we don’t need supplies?’

‘We will bring them, regardless,’ Jardir said. ‘I do not trust the demon’s words.’

‘Why not?’ Shanjat asked. ‘Have you not spent your life a pawn to the dice your females carve from our bones?’

It surprised Jardir how deeply the words cut. ‘They speak with the voice of Everam.’

Shanjat laughed. ‘They are a Jongleur’s trick! A primitive glimpse at a minuscule fraction of infinite possibility.’

‘Those primitive glimpses have led us to victory after victory against your kind,’ Jardir noted.

‘Perhaps,’ Shanjat said. ‘Or perhaps we play a larger game, and even in your minor “victories” you are only pawns.’

‘Pawns that caught you with your pants down,’ the Par’chin said. ‘Pawns that got you locked up sweatin’ the sun. Pawns that could kill you on a whim. Tellin’ me that’s all part of your game?’

‘In every game there is risk,’ Shanjat said. ‘Play is far from over.’

‘It is for tonight,’ Jardir said. He raised the Spear of Kaji and drew a ward in the air, sending power into the tattoos on the demon’s knobbed flesh. It gave a howl, falling back from Shanjat and thrashing on the floor. The others advanced on it while Shanvah crossed the wards to collect her father.