Demonkin (17 page)

“Now
that's
interesting.” Tania beckoned and backed to the table. “Come, sit. You can tell me all about the royal adept and his sense of justice, and then we'll discuss how to return your daughter to you both.”

“Dear,” Ona said. “Sit.” That was not a request.

Xander allowed his wife to lead him to the table. Aryn wondered what had passed between them in the weeks since they had been reunited. Xander took the last seat at the table and Ona took the seat next to him.

“Tania,” Ona said, “you obviously have contacts within the military. How deep do they go?”

Tania sipped her tea. “What makes you think that?”

“Can you contact Captain Traeger? I tried to speak to him today, but the first sword running his office politely suggested I jump off a bridge.”

“We have many nice bridges. Why do you want to speak to the good captain?”

“He trusts me. We faced down five hundred gnarls together and if you can get me to him, he'll listen.”

“How would Traeger aid us?”

“He can't get us to Kara, but he can get us to Prince Beren. Prince Beren will get us to her.”

“You're quite familiar with the royal family,” Tania said. “Family connections?”

Ona picked up her cup. “What makes you think that?”

Tania laughed. Aryn grinned. Xander threw up his hands and kicked the table so hard the cups rattled. Someone was evidently done with secrets and tea.

“Can you get us to Traeger or not?” Xander demanded.

That outburst seemed out of character for Kara's father, and Aryn remembered something he had heard on the road, something Kara had told Ona in a quiet voice. Xander was a wanted man in Tarna.

“Xander,” Aryn said, “is Adept Anylus the man who ordered you arrested?”

Xander flinched and stared at Aryn. That confirmed Aryn's suspicions. He had guessed correctly, again.

“You're a sharp one,” Ona said. She placed a hand on her husband's arm. “You'd best tell them, dear. We're short on help and it's a very big city.”

Xander glared at the table and rested joined hands atop it. He shifted in the chair. Finally, he spoke.

“Almost ten years ago, I came to Tarna hoping to recover some of the memories Melyssa took from me. That is the first and only time I encountered Adept Anylus.”

Tania leaned forward. “A heated discussion?”

“Anylus accused me of using demon glyphs. He named me Demonkin before I had so much as spit in his face, a man I'd never met dropping a capital crime around my neck.”

“You're the runner!” Tania gasped. “No one gets away from Valar, but you did.” She sounded impressed.

“If Valar is the man Anylus sent to kill me, he's lucky I crushed his throat instead of his head.” Xander cracked his knuckles. “Do we have a problem?”

Tania set down her steaming cup. “Valar sent one of my best friends to murder my brother. He's hard to like at times.” She shrugged. “What's a crushed neck between friends?”

Aryn considered this new revelation, a fact that simply made no sense. “Why would Adept Anylus name you Demonkin?”

“I have no idea!” Xander pushed up and almost knocked the chair over. “All I know is that man set out to imprison me from the moment I set foot in this city, and now he has my daughter locked in a dungeon.”

“That does sound suspicious,” Tania said.

“Anylus is no friend of ours or Kara’s. So tell me why I shouldn’t storm in there right now and take her.”

Aryn glanced at Tania. Could Xander do it? Was he powerful enough to take on the whole Mynt army?

Xander was certainly crafty enough to simply spirit Kara away. This man was Torn Honuron’s grandson, and unlike Kara, he had trained decades to wield his unique blood. What did Tania think of Xander's accusations?

Aryn knew very little about Anylus, save what he had heard from others. Most considered Anylus friendly and intelligent, and no one questioned his loyalty. Why would he try to capture or kill Xander Honuron?

Xander pointed a meaty finger at Tania. “You want to know why I spent the last ten years in the wilderness? It's because of you people, you bloody
andux orn
. I couldn't go near my wife or daughter for fear you'd go after them, too!”

“What's an
andux orn
?” Tania sipped her tea.

“I make it a point to learn about anyone who tries to kill me.” Xander loomed over them. “What about it, woman? Do you see a demon inside me? Am I as Anylus named me, possessed by the Mavoureen?”

“No,” Tania said, “and I'll admit I'm puzzled. There's been a bounty on you for as long as I've been a hunter.” She set down her cup. “Sorry about that.”

“Sorry?” Xander trembled and for a moment, Aryn feared he might lunge at her. “You're
sorry
?”

“I can see you're not Demonkin. I'll swear to it. I'll have the bounty removed.”

“How magnanimous! Now give me back the last ten years of my life and we'll call it even!”

Ona clutched Xander's wrist. “Dear, that's enough.” She looked at Tania. “I need a straight answer now, and no more fencing, young lady. Can you get us to Captain Traeger?”

Tania stretched like a cat, arms raised high. “We often grab a bite at the same tavern.”

“When?”

“Tomorrow morning.” Tania stood. “I'll make arrangements. Is that acceptable, Mister Honuron?”

“Why are you helping us?” Xander demanded.

“Still don't trust me?”

“I don't trust anyone connected to the Mynt right now. Or the assassin you demon hunters serve.”

Aryn stumbled across another thought. Valar could see the Demonkin taint — he had confirmed as much when he interviewed Aryn — so if Valar had gone after Xander on the orders of Anylus, he had known the man he attacked was not Demonkin. What did that say about Valar?

Ona stood and pushed in her chair. “It seems we're done with this cellar. Thank you for the tea.”

Tania stood as well. “My pleasure, Missus Tanner. Or should I refer to you as Missus Honuron?”

“Tomorrow,” Ona said, “you'll show us to Captain Traeger. He'll bring us to Prince Beren and then we'll all speak to Kara. We’ll get this sorted.”

Aryn knew now where Kara had inherited her forceful confidence. Freed of her crippling disease, Ona was a woman who deserved and demanded respect. Aryn understood why Xander still loved her, despite the twenty years Melyssa stole from them both.

“Fine,” Xander said. “Tomorrow, first light, in front of this tavern. Not beneath it.”

Ona hugged Aryn before he could stop her, shocking him with her familiarity. Yet they had endured the road to Tarna together, hadn't they? Ona's hug felt real and warm.

“You make a good couple.” Ona released him. “Hold onto her. You never know how much time you really have.” She took Xander's hand and led her husband to the ladder. One after the other, they clambered up.

“I like her.” Tania took Aryn's hand. “The other, not so much.”

“Xander's a good man.” Aryn felt compelled to defend Kara's father. “He's just worried. Kara's everything to him, and he lost her for almost twenty years.”

“Fathers do love their daughters.”

Aryn squeezed her hand. Tania's parents were dead, her brother too, and she hid her grief about that well — yet it must still hurt. The fact that Aryn's family had disowned him hurt too, but his family was not
dead
.

Heart pounding, Aryn slipped an arm around Tania's waist and drew her close. Would she allow that? She made a contented noise and bumped her forehead against his shoulder. Then she pulled free and walked to the table.

“We've got half a pot left,” Tania said, “and it's good tea. Might as well finish it off.”

“What about training?”

“That never stops. It's time you learned to see as I do.”

Aryn sat next to Tania as she pulled something from her robe — what might be a tiny pouch — and sprinkled particles that glittered in the dream world. She stirred the tea with a spoon, metal dinged against the rim.

“You're going to teach me to see again?” Aryn's heart beat faster. Would he finally see what she looked like?

“In a sense.” Tania scribed a small blood glyph on the cup, and it flared as it ignited. “The herbs in this tea will increase the clarity of your dream world sight. Given enough time, that change becomes permanent.”

“It's lerild soup?” That was a rare concoction known only to magic academies, capable of boosting the innate power of a mage's blood or helping them recover faster.

“It's better than that. Tastier. That's why we couldn't try it until we arrived here.”

Aryn took her offered cup. “I just drink it?”

“Unless you want it in your lap.” She squeezed his knee. “It can be overwhelming the first time. Drop the dream world and drink slow. Short, cautious sips.”

Aryn found the tea bitter but tolerable. He sipped as instructed, blind to the world. Soon the cup was empty, but he did not feel any different.

“Ready?” Tania asked.

“As ever.”

“Take the dream world.”

The brilliant bursts of color nearly knocked Aryn out of his chair.

KARA STOPPED PACING. It served no point other than burning nervous energy, and her feet were growing sore. Her cell — and it was a cell, despite the tapestries on the wall and the feather bed in the center — was large enough to allow her a good amount of exercise if she walked in circles. Walking in circles was all she
could
do.

There were no windows in this gray stone room tucked beneath the royal palace. The only way she could tell day or night was by the meals silent guards delivered. Kara had measured time by those meals for days, fully aware carrow root tainted every bite.

Kara ate without complaint because she suspected refusing would only make her circumstances worse. There were many other cells beneath the palace, and she doubted any were as nice as this one. She had no need of glyphs at the moment. Glyphs would not help her escape.

The only way out of this cell was to regain King Haven's trust. Only then could she save her friends. So she would eat his fine meals, accept his carrow root, and wait for another opportunity to plead her case.

Dinner was over and Kara would see no one until tomorrow. She had nothing to read and most certainly could not sleep. Initially, boredom had been her worst enemy, but now that was cold sweats and fearful dreams.

Somewhere outside Tarna, Abaddon led Trell to his doom. Sera remained at Terras, days ticking away until her execution glyph fired, but was Sera safe? Mavoureen had somehow entered their world despite Torn's closed gate, and who else might they strike? Aryn? Ona?

Just the thought of a Mavoureen hurting her mother made Kara's heart race and her palms sweat. The pain of Ona's crippling disease would be nothing in comparison to what a Mavoureen could do to her. The demons could make human pain last a very, very long time.

Kara sat and breathed, in and out, in and out, like Elder Halde had taught her to do when she grew stressed. Kara missed Halde more than ever, another casualty of a war she had never asked to fight and was increasingly certain she had lost. She remembered Halde's arms holding her, his deep voice comforting her. Halde had loved her like a daughter and for that, Cantrall had burned him alive.

What had Halde thought as his twin brother's phantom fire seared his flesh, as his bones cracked, as flames consumed his screams? What would Ona think when a davenger found her? What was Abaddon doing to Trell?

Kara had let herself cry last night, after a horrific nightmare where Abaddon ripped Trell apart, and she had learned then that Sera was right.
I'm done crying,
Sera had told her weeks ago.
It doesn't help.

The lock to Kara's cell door clicked.

Kara rushed to the door and stopped short. What was she thinking? They would think she was trying to escape.

A tall form in red robes ducked his head and stepped inside, then closed the door behind him. Adept Anylus! What did this visit mean?

Anylus never closed the door while they were together. Guards waited outside, men who heard and observed all interactions. Those were the rules. A thousand possibilities trampled Kara's mind, but only the most horrifying survived.

“Is my mother safe?”

“Your mother is fine,” Anylus said quietly, “and there have been no more attacks. I have just come from a conference with the king.”

“Did he listen? Did he agree to let me out?”

“No.”

Kara trembled. Everyone she loved was dying, and all she had to do to save them was get through a hand's width of wood and two legionnaires. And out of the prison building. And out of Tarna.

“It gets worse,” Anylus said. “I have contacted a soul with information about the Mavoureen. It came to me.”

“A soul?”

“Yes. A man murdered by a davenger.”

“What did he say? Who was he?”