The Malice (25 page)

The dog’s fur is patchy, its body riddled with old scars, a fighting dog. The mismatched eyes are more disturbing though, one canine, one human, a sure sign of infernal tampering.

Duet remembers her briefings, recognises that this is a Dogspawn, and that means a Handler is close by; perhaps the one in armour, perhaps another, lying low in the dirt.

She looks round but does not keep her eyes off the other warrior for long. His sword is drawn, a simple chunk of pointed metal, dead and without song. She notes he moves with a slight limp, a weakness to be exploited.

The other group stop less than fifteen metres away.

Duet faces off the warrior. Vesper stands opposite the thin man, and the kid tries to avoid the curious stare of the Dogspawn.

Restless but not fully awake, the sword twitches.

Vesper takes a step forward and the Dogspawn growls softly. ‘Hello,’ she says.

The warrior’s voice sounds dry, as if his throat belonged to a much older person. ‘You have the Malice?’

‘Yes.’

‘I … need it.’

‘You can’t have it,’ replies Duet.

‘Why do you need it?’ asks Vesper.

‘To stop the Yearning.’

‘What’s that?’

‘I don’t know. I have seen many things come from the Breach but this is different. Bigger. I can’t fight it. The strongest infernals of the Fallen Palace cannot fight it. I think only the Malice can stand against it. Give it to me.’

Duet assumes a battle stance. ‘We’d die before handing anything over to an infernal.’

The man speaks up at that. ‘You’re wrong. He’s a Knight of the Seraph.’

A harsh laugh escapes Duet’s lips. ‘Save your lies. Knights don’t travel with demon dogs. Knights kill them.’ She raises her blade. ‘And so do I!’

With some reluctance, the warrior readies himself, too.

Vesper shakes her head. ‘Hold on, you want to take the sword, the Malice, to the Breach, right? We want that, too. There’s no need to fight.’

‘There isn’t?’ asks the man.

‘There isn’t?’ mutters Duet.

‘No. There isn’t. Maybe there’s another way.’

There is a long pause. The man looks at his armoured companion, then speaks for him. ‘We could help you. And in return, you could help us.’

‘We don’t need your help,’ says Duet. ‘And we don’t trust you, your demon knight or your pet. You’re not fit to travel in the presence of The Seven.’

Vesper glares at her and an eye at her shoulder flashes open. ‘That’s enough! We’re not going to fight each other. We’re not, okay?’ She takes a breath to calm herself. ‘Let’s put our weapons away and find a place to rest and eat. We can spare you some of our rations and we can talk. My Uncle says that it’s easier to agree on things on a full stomach. What do you say? You look starving.’

‘I don’t need to eat,’ says the warrior.

‘Actually,’ says Vesper, looking past him to the other man, ‘I wasn’t talking about you.’

Jem sits as close to the fire as he can. The hostile woman stays further back, sacrificing warmth for safety, her sword unsheathed over crossed legs. Samael also keeps his distance, uncomfortable in the unexpected social setting.

They shelter in a cave, tucked between some rocks. It looks to have sheltered many travellers over the years, some of whom have left mementos. A few bits of litter, a plastic sleeping mat and doodles, scratched into the stone.

The girl passes around some food, ignoring her companion’s expression of disgust. Harder to ignore is the sword, leaning against the natural wall, and the way it glares at Scout when he gets too close.

‘My name is Vesper,’ says the girl, ‘and this is Duet.’

‘I’m Jem, and behind me is Sir Samael. The one chasing your goat is called Scout.’ They watch the two animals running circuits around the edge of the cave. ‘Don’t worry,’ he adds. ‘He’s just playing.’

‘I didn’t know Dogspawn could play.’

‘Neither did I.’

Vesper passes a piece of dried fruit to Jem and gasps when he grabs both of her hands. ‘You’re so warm!’ he exclaims, beaming.

‘And you’re freezing!’

‘I know! I’ve been cold for so long I’d almost forgotten …’ He trails off, smile fading.

Vesper looks at her hands, still held tight in his. A blush creeps onto her cheeks. ‘You can borrow my blanket, if you want.’

Hands part and he nods, eating the fruit slowly, savouring its sweetness. After a while his eyes flicker over the sword before settling on her coat. He begins to frown. ‘Where did you say you were from? I feel like I know you from somewhere.’

‘I grew up outside the Shining City but I was born in a village south of here. I don’t remember it though, I was too young. It got destroyed in the invasion.’

Jem reaches past Vesper to pick another piece of fruit from the open bag. ‘Tell me more about the Shining City.’

‘There’s not much to say,’ she shrugs, ‘I’m not allowed to go there. What about you?’

‘I was born in Horizon, grew up in New Horizon.’

‘What’s it like?’

‘It’s bad. The demon in charge is called the Demagogue and it doesn’t care much for humans. We’re mainly used as entertainment or slaves, or food.’

Vesper shudders. ‘That’s terrible.’

‘That’s nothing. If I told you half of what happens in the city you’d die of nightmares. And the worst of it is, nothing’s going to change. The Empire of the Winged Eye and its knights, and all of its soldiers abandoned us. Even The Seven. There’s no hope anymore. That’s why I told Sir Samael we shouldn’t go back.’

Duet mutters angrily to herself but the words are easily heard. ‘Not a knight. Not fit to speak of The Seven. We shouldn’t stand for it.’

Jem’s thin frame begins to shake. ‘Why? Why am I not fit?’

‘Because you’re tainted, that’s why. I can see it in your teeth.’

His jaw drops in surprise. Shame follows quickly, finding its way onto sunken cheeks. No longer able to meet anyone’s gaze he covers his mouth and turns away.

Vesper looks thoughtfully at Jem’s back, then to the sword, then at Samael. The kid arrives, diving into her lap and burying his head.

Scout skids to a stop, panting and expectant.

She looks at the muscles playing under the ragged fur. At the mismatched eyes. The human one, blank, the canine one eager, intent on the kid and ready to play.

‘And why is he tainted, Duet?’

‘What?’

‘Why is Jem tainted?’

The Harmonised shrugs. ‘Isn’t it obvious?’

‘Yes. It’s really obvious. I can’t believe I never realised it till now.’ She fixes Duet with a look. ‘He’s tainted because we failed him. Don’t you see? The Empire failed its people. It’s failing them every day. We have to change that.’

‘What are you saying?’

Vesper pauses, her cheeks flushed. ‘I’m not sure yet. But I think, I think things have to change. I think they’ve already changed and we need to adapt.’ She strokes the trembling kid in her lap, aware of Scout’s proximity, his head close, his teeth sharp. She reaches out slowly, carefully, giving the Dogspawn time to see what she’s doing.

Scout waits, panting softly.

She begins to stroke his head.

Duet looks appalled but says nothing.

Vesper continues to stroke Scout, who settles next to her.

Then, to everyone’s surprise, Samael speaks. ‘He’d like it if you scratched behind his ear.’

They walk south, towards New Horizon. The soil here has never recovered from the wars or the poisons dropped on it, leaving landscape barren. Chunks of rock are all that break the open bleakness. Though the city is not yet in sight, they all feel it getting closer. Scout bounds along at the head of the group, alert for trouble. The kid joins Duet at the back, preferring each other’s company to that of the newcomers.

Jem and Vesper talk often, the conversation easy between them. On her back the sword twitches, alternately watching Samael, Jem and Scout through a narrowed eye.

Then Vesper falls into step alongside Samael. ‘Hello.’

Samael looks at the girl, looks away again.

‘Jem’s been telling me about New Horizon. I understand the Demagogue is in charge and has the support of other demons, but I don’t really see where you fit in. Jem doesn’t seem to either.’

‘The Demagogue ruled New Horizon in the Usurper’s name. Now the Usurper is gone, the Demagogue wants to rise to power and rule the infernals in its place. It has allies. Lots of lesser demons. And Gutterface sides with it. There may be others. I haven’t paid much attention to the politics.’

‘And you’re against the Demagogue.’

‘Yes.’

‘Whose side are you on?’

‘I’m not sure. The Man-shape thinks that I should rule.’

‘The Man-shape?’

‘Another infernal. It served the Usurper. It says that the one who stops the Yearning will have the Usurper’s throne.’

Vesper is suddenly aware of the sword humming on her back. ‘Wait, are you an infernal?’

‘No. Yes. It is complicated. The Usurper made my creator and my creator made me. Before him, I was just a man. Now I am something else. The Man-shape says I am descended from the Usurper, that I was made to succeed it.’

‘You don’t sound very sure about that.’

‘I’m not. I … hate them. I can’t help myself. When I see an infernal I want to destroy it. But I am one of them, at least, a part of me is. I think it would be better to rule the infernals than be ruled by them.’

‘And the Yearning, it that another infernal?’

‘Yes. But much bigger than the Demagogue, bigger even than the Usurper was. It doesn’t have a shell yet. I doubt there is anything big enough to contain it in this world. It may be it doesn’t need one.’

Vesper scratches at an old scab on her temple. ‘So let me get this straight. The Demagogue is fighting the Man-shape to take the throne of the infernals and the Yearning is fighting all of you.’

‘No. The Man-shape does not fight. It offers the throne to whoever defeats the Yearning; but if the Demagogue unites enough of the infernals behind it, the Man-shape will have to concede to its power.’

‘And you’re a threat to the Demagogue?’

‘Yes.’

They walk for a while as Vesper thinks, taking it all in. So many ideas, so much to understand.

‘Can I ask you something else?’

‘Yes.’

‘Why did you save Jem?’

‘He called to me and … and I wanted to help him. I had to.’

‘Why?’

‘I had to.’

‘Do you remember much of your life before?’

‘Only little pieces. Some of the pieces don’t feel like mine. I have some of my creator’s memories inside too and others, absorbed by him and passed on to me.’

‘What do you remember? Can you tell me?’

He pauses, a strange expression forming underneath his helmet. ‘The smell of the sea. The feel of being in a boat, riding the waves. That I wanted a dog.’

‘Do you think this Man-shape would talk with me?’

‘Yes.’

‘Good. Samael, Jem says you’re a knight. Is that true?’

He thinks for a while, then hangs his head. ‘No.’

‘Would you like to be?’

‘Yes.’

‘Then help me. Take me to the Man-shape. Protect us. Will you do that?’

‘I will.’

‘Swear it. Swear it to the sword in the name of the Winged Eye.’

He looks at the sword, the sword looks back, a study in hatred. ‘But the Malice wants to unmake me.’

‘The Malice is angry but not at you. Trust me. Swear it.’

Samael looks at the girl, trying to read her essence past the sword’s interference. To his half-breed eyes, she is just a shape, a tiny shadow in the light of a sun. But small as she is, her shape is distinct, enduring. He moves in front of her and kneels. ‘Yes,’ he says. ‘I swear it, in the name of the Winged Eye, I will do as you ask.’

The suns set and stars ease their way into the sky, soft sparkles against darkening blue. None can be seen above New Horizon however. The city is covered in a patchwork of lights, dirty decorations that bleed orange into the air above.

Samael watches the city, Scout sat next to him. The Dogspawn senses the unease, seeks reassurance from its master, transmitting the desire through their essence link.

A moment later, a gauntleted hand pets Scout’s head.

Jem joins them. ‘Are you sure about this?’

‘Yes.’

‘I don’t want to go back there.’

‘No.’

He jerks a thumb over his shoulder. ‘They’re arguing again. About us.’ He glances back at the two figures, makes sure they’re not too close. ‘That Duet is mental. I don’t trust her. And even if we do manage to get past New Horizon, what’s going to happen then? How are you going to protect me? I’m not sure you can protect yourself.’

Scout whines softly and Samael turns towards him. ‘What did you say?’

‘I said, I don’t see how you can protect me if we go south.’

‘Before that.’

‘Before that I said, that they were arguing and that I don’t trust Duet not to stick a knife in our backs.’

‘You said she was mental. Why?’

‘For a start, she hates us. For another thing, she talks to herself. Isn’t that enough?’

Samael leaves the conversation, walking back towards the two arguing figures. They stop when he approaches. He is not concerned by the way they look at him. All of his attention goes to Duet, his half-breed eyes tuning into the play of essence around the Harmonised. The proximity of the Malice makes things more difficult, it’s bright essence burning, uncomfortable. ‘Duet, can I speak to you, alone?’

He does not need to read her essence to recognise the distrust in her eyes. ‘I have nothing to say to you.’

‘Yes. But can I speak to you?’

‘It’s feeding time anyway,’ says Vesper, backing away.

‘Go on then,’ snaps the Harmonised. ‘Say your piece.’

Away from the Malice’s glare, it is easier for Samael to perceive details. Duet’s essence ripples in ethereal currents. In places, the original shape has been lost, like a torn flag, edges fraying. Tiny tendrils of it swirl away, leaking. He looks closer, can just make out the faint after image of what was another being, mirroring, joined, now gone. Her essence reaches out to that other self but cannot find it, stretching until its edges thin and fade.

‘If you have something to say. Say it!’

‘You are dying.’

‘We’re all dying.’

‘Yes. But not like you.’

‘How do you know?’

‘I can see it.’

Her eyes widen behind her visor, vulnerable. Despite her armour, she is exposed. ‘I know what’s happening to me.’ She looks away. ‘And I don’t want to talk about it. And even if I did, it wouldn’t be with you.’

‘I think I can help you.’ Her head snaps back up and he continues. ‘My creator left understanding in me. Memories. Ideas. I can see your essence bleeding. It needs to be joined to something, completed again or it will collapse. The understanding to do that is in me.’

Horrified, Duet shakes her head. ‘Join me? To what? No, I don’t want to know. And no, I don’t want your help. I’d rather die than become like you.’

She walks away, leaving Samael to think. Is death ever preferable to life? He has often despaired at his own metamorphosis. Struggled to comprehend what he is becoming, wished to be something else. And yet, whenever the chance to stop presents itself, he veers from it. Is this cowardice? Is it courage? He wonders which of these motivates Duet to turn down his offer. He could probably find out, pluck the secret from her essence but an instinct stops him. It feels wrong to find out that way.

Scout howls a warning and Samael allows himself to see through his Dogspawn’s eyes.

Infernals spill from New Horizon’s ever open gates. Most are aimless, setting off in random directions but one makes towards them directly, getting faster as its confidence in having found its prey grows.

Swift plans are made. ‘It is following me,’ declares Samael. ‘I could lead it away from you.’

‘No,’ replies Vesper. ‘We need you with us.’

‘It’s only one,’ says Duet. ‘Let’s fight it.’

Jem shakes his head. ‘If we fight it, the others will notice. We can’t fight them all.’

‘Then let’s not fight,’ says Vesper, picking up the kid. ‘Let’s run.’