Chapter 81: Book 2, Chapter 22: The Demon and the Novice Mage Face Off

Mohrdrand finished his meal and excused himself to return to the cottage. It wouldn’t do to leave the demon girl alone too long. Her condition was yet dire, although she had rounded the bend from imminent death.

Rosaluna had also finished, but she remained seated, quietly sipping tea.

Tig finished his own meal and headed off to check on the horses.

So, Jackson, Rosaluna inquired after a bit. How are you doing with your... how did Button describe it... Grinding?

He cleared his throat uncomfortably. “Rank eleven now,” he told her. As of a couple of weeks ago. Nearly a third of the way to twelve. Mostly due to bringing my artificer class up. I’ve got it past rank nine and about halfway to ten now. As you probably saw last night, I’m starting to get the hang of Material Manipulation, at least on a small scale.”

I see, she replied noncommittally.

He took another sip of his cooling coffee. She was getting around to something. No telling how long it might take, though. He leaned forward and took up the coffee pot by its bail, refilling his mug.

You’ve been going out alone, I’m told.

“I have,” he nodded. “Sentinel class gives me a ten percent experience boost when I’m alone. And now that I’ve got some decent ranged weapons and armor, so long as I’m careful, the danger isn’t all that great.”

She raised an eyebrow. your strange little dog doesn’t count against that condition? She wondered.

“Bob?” he chuckled. “He’s more of a running gag than a party member.”

The eyebrow again.

“No,” he held back the chuckle this time. “Bob’s not allowed to aid me in physical combat, nor heal me, nor defend me. His job is guidance, or so he tells me. Information, advice, history. Like a fuzzy little search engine.”

A search what, now?

“Oh. Ah...” he struggled for a way to translate the concept into something she’d understand.

* * *

Chi found the girl some distance from the cottage, fairly deep into the wood.

It hadn’t been easy. Tracking wasn’t one of her greatest skills, and even with her inhuman vision and its ability to detect heat, the girl’s cooling tracks were so faint as to be intangible. As she grew closer, though, the noise helped her close the final distance.

She found the girl seated with her legs folded beneath her in a narrow glade, at the base of a small oak, her shepherd’s crook staff laying beside her. She was chunking stones with some great force into a chuckling stream, raising loud splashes.

Chi held for a moment before entering the clearing, observing her quarry. The girl’s eyes were red and puffy, as was her nose. The tracks of tears showed upon her cheeks.

Chi sighed. Sixteen was a hard thing to be, she knew, although her own bout with it had been so long ago and so far away that she could remember none of it. Sixteen and in love only made it worse.

Taking a deep breath, she stepped quietly forward. The girl looked up at the faint noise and scowled, warping her face into an almost feral mask before she gave up the effort and turned back to the stream, chunking another stone into the water hard enough to draw a grunt.

“I’m sorry,” Chi ventured softly. “I didn’t know.”

Tiarraluna ignored her, or seemed to.

“Were you and Jack...”

The girl froze for just long enough to notice before bending to search for her next stone.

So, no, then. “But you wanted to be, yes?”

This time Tiarraluna turned to her, and the tears were rimming her eyes. “He was mine, demon,” she hissed.

“Was he?” Chi asked solemnly.

“He...” the girl turned back to the stream and wiped a hand across her leaking eyes. “He would have been.”

She gazed into the stream, hands twisting together. Chi could hear the quiet huffing of her stifled sobs. “Eventually,” a soft, forlorn whisper.

Chi crept slowly forward until she could settle herself down just within the girl’s peripheral vision. “Did he know?”

“Of course he knew!” Tiarraluna spat. “But he’s a man, and men are stupid!”

Chi remained silent, not knowing exactly what to do with that statement.

“Oh,” the girl went on after some time and a few more stones. “Button,” her head rocked back and forth, and she mimicked a gruff voice that must be meant to be Jack’s. “Jehsha, how I hate when he calls me that!

“Oh, Button,” she repeated, her face screwed up into a pantomime of disgust. “Little Sister... Don’t you see you’re only a child? I’m an old man compared to you. How could we ever be together?

“Aah!” she balled her fists and struck the ground beside her thighs. “Stupid! You see? Stupid, stupid, stupid!”

She looked over to the demon. “I’m a grown woman, Demon! I have been for two years now. How can he not see that? How many times have I saved his stupid life, hmm? How many times have I healed him from his own folly?” She gave the ground another smack, tearing up a tuft of grass and hurling it at the stream, which chuckled along without the slightest notice. “What have you got that I haven’t,” her shoulders shook as the weeping took hold and she buried her face in her hands.

Chi held her face deliberately still, her eyes neutral, although it was a trial. She wanted very much to take the girl into her arms to comfort her, but she wasn’t completely sure that such action mightn’t end in a brawl. So she sat quietly and waited for the storm to die down a bit.

Meanwhile, could it be that, just perhaps, Jack wasn’t so dense as he’d appeared? No, she decided. He was easily that dense, at least in some areas. Here, it appeared, was one. She was getting the distinct impression that Jack considered the Button issue settled, and was willfully ignoring any evidence to the contrary.

Was it possible that he actually thought he could ignore the problem away? That Tiarraluna would tire of pursuing him and find another? If so, he’d have to be disabused of that goofy notion posthaste. Carefully, of course.

The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.

* * *

Away from the view of his charge or his charge’s friends, Bob was free to move at his own pace. A pace much swifter than his stubby legs would hint at. And, oh, if only Mohrdrand could see him now. Even under eight horses, the wizard’s much bragged upon Runstable’s would have fallen quickly behind.

It felt good to stretch his muscles, even from within the confines of this minuscule form. He did, however, grant that the nose of his current body was superior to his own. He had no difficulty following the fading scent at a dead lope.

He began to feel the disturbance well clear of the portal, and decreased his speed slightly. He wouldn’t put it past the old woman to have left guards behind. More of those constructs, no doubt, and Bob had no desire to tussle with any of them.

He covered the final half mile on his belly, moving slowly and clinging to irregularities in the ground. His form faded to semitransparency, and his movements became muffled.

There were no constructs present, but he could sense their energy nearby. Ah! There. Several jewels of various sort scattered in the grass. Jewels similar to those which bedecked the straps of both Rosaluna’s and her granddaughter’s bags. Another hint as to their function, if nothing else.

Ignoring them, he crept closer, examining the energy field of the portal. It appeared, at first glance, to be undamaged. He opened his third eye a bit wider. There. The remnants of the astral hooks with which the invaders had tacked their override into the system. Tarrian, all right. But how had they managed to affix them?

He concentrated hard, attempting to bring forth the ghost of the past. He wanted to see what the old woman had used to so shatter the hack. His head began to ring, his eyes run.

Damn it all! This puny form would not allow the necessary concentration. And he dare not shed it for even an instant. He was already in the Council’s bad graces. No telling what sort of backwater hellhole they’d toss him into, or for how long, if he broke protocol even once. Even for an instant. And he shuddered to contemplate what sort of horrible form they’d force him to take next.

Sniffing about, he began to find bits and pieces of the portal overlay. Eventually, he found one large enough to give him a hint as to its foundation. Interesting. Slowly, then, piece by piece, he began to reconstruct the overlay in his mind. And from that, he was able to guestimate the violence of its destruction.

Another look at the original portal. He suspected it had been restored, but couldn’t be sure. One thing he did know, based on his experience and examination. It was unlikely the Tarrians would get their claws into it again. Not from their side, at least.

Experimentally, he stood. No response from the scattered jewels. Then he was off, bounding along his own backtrail, wondering if he mightn’t swing wide and look for some rabbits on his way. He’d missed breakfast, and now, probably, lunch.

* * *

“You seem different,” Jack observed.

Do I now? Rosaluna favored him with a quiet smile.

They’d been going back and forth for awhile by this point. He’d explained search engines and something of what he’d been working on in town. She’d listened and prompted, and had altogether neglected to be short for its own sake. And her face seemed just a little more open than he remembered it. Not quite so wreathed in sorrow.

Perhaps I’ve finally decided that a century and more of madness and feeling sorry for myself might suffice, she took another sip of tea. Perhaps I’ve recognized that I am not alone in having had to cope with loss. Perhaps, I might even have decided to take a more active hand in things than merely to see to it that the darkness doesn’t completely overwhelm this particular little slice of the world and hang the rest.

Alright, he thought. That wasn’t quite what he’d been expecting. “And your sudden interest in my progress?”

She didn’t answer right away, regarding him intently, rather. Near to the point of making him uncomfortable. Our illustrious new king, she finally sent, her mental voice tense with derision. Has abandoned us. You understand this, correct?

“Unfortunately," he nodded. “It’s not like it’s an uncommon opinion among the populace.”

She nodded in turn. And who do you imagine exists in the world capable of taking up his mantle?

His blood ran cold for a moment. But no, she’d know better. And anyway, he was all of rank eleven, and barely that. His eyes narrowed as the other possible choice struck him. “You?” he hardly believed his own words.

Indeed, she nodded again, with no more force. As though she wasn’t altogether happy with the prospect. If Watanabe will abandon the east, I most certainly will not.

He shook his head and whistled low. “Bold. You think he’ll stand for it?”

She snorted through her nose. I welcome any attention from that miscreant, her grin bore no humor. But he will not contest me. Would that he thought so much of the east that he might. Were he to show so much as the slightest interest in maintaining control, there would be no need for me to step in.

“Point,” he allowed. “So, what does your stepping in look like, precisely?”

To begin with, the old woman breathed a heavy breath. It does not look like ruling the whole of the east from a small cottage a day’s walk from the Hero’s Glade.

* * *

The girl’s crying had run its course, at least for the moment. Chi decided it was time. “Tiarraluna?” she ventured.

The girl looked up, eyes puffy and red, face closed off, gaze narrow.

“You understand that Jack won’t be staying on Mund, yes?” Chi asked softly. “That he’ll be moving on to Tarr as soon as a way opens?”

Tiarraluna sniffed and gave a perfunctory nod. “And what of it?” she demanded.

“Are you willing to follow?” Chi pressed. “To leave your home? To leave your grandmother? To leave everything you know behind in order to follow Jack?”

Tiarraluna’s eyes clouded over, and her face opened up slightly, although it remained dour. She gave conscious thought for once, to what being with Jackson would ultimately entail. Would she follow? Her head was whirling about like a tornado of conflicting emotions, conflicting thoughts. Could she? What of Grandmother? What of her duties? But what of Jackson?”

Chi watched those emotions play across her face. Those troubled thoughts. “Can I ask you to be patient?” she asked. “To not make hasty decisions?”

“And what of you?” Tiarraluna accused. “What will you be doing while I’m being patient?”

Chi hesitated. “May I tell you a story, Tiarraluna?” she asked rather than answer.

The girl’s eyes narrowed anew. “Will it answer my question?” she asked.

Chi shrugged. “It will explain my position,” she said. “And perhaps that will be answer enough.”

A long while later, the girl gave a grudging nod. “Tell your tale, then, demon, and I shall listen.”

Chi tapped the collar she still wore. “I have been a slave,” she began, “for almost my entire life. Centuries, at this point.” she nodded at Tiarraluna’s gasp.

“Yes,” and she paused, “Button.” Waiting for the imminent explosion that didn’t come.

“I am old, Button," she smiled. "Far older than you. Older, even than your grandmother. And so long as I can remember,” she went on. “I have led a miserable existence. Horror upon horror were all that I knew, stretching on in a never-ending train.

"Until I met a man who was not horrible. Who made the horror fade. Who made me happy. Do you understand?”

Tiarraluna’s face closed again. “A man you’ve only known—”

“Since before we came here,” Chi finished for her. “Do you see, Tiarraluna?” she inquired. “He was mine before he arrived on Mund. Before he met you.”

She paused to allow that notion to sink in. “We were parted,” she told the girl then. “But fate has thrust us together again. And we found that we hadn’t lost our feelings for one another. Despite our...” she swept a hand along her obviously non-human body, “differences.”

Silence fell across the glade, marred only by the chuckling of the uncaring brook.

“And yet,” Chi sighed into the quiet. “I cannot have him.”

Tiarraluna’s head jerked up, and her eyes widened.

“Not for long, at any rate.” Chi added, a small smile quirking her lip. “You see, Tiarraluna,” she told the girl seriously. “Jack won’t be staying on Mund. He will move on to Tarr—”

“—As soon as a way opens,” Tiarraluna finished for her. “Yes, I understand.”

“Where I cannot follow,” Chi completed her statement. “For I am now bound to Mund by obligations to your god... my god, now. The god of Mund.”

Tiarraluna seemed unable to settle on an emotion, veering from joy, to sorrow, to sympathy, to anger.

“And then, too,” Chi continued. I love him too much to watch him wither and die.”

“What?” Tiarraluna asked, shocked. “I don’t understand.”

Chi shrugged. “Am I not killed by something,” she explained. “I’ll probably live another seven hundred years or so. Jack,” a tear hovered at the edge of one orange-red lava eye, “regardless of how powerful his knowledge, his magic, might become, will long have been turned to dust by the ravages of time by then. I couldn’t bear to see that. Call me weak if you will, but the very notion of watching helplessly as....” She shuddered to a stop, unable, for a moment, to continue.

“And so,” she sniffed and wiped at her eyes. “I ask you to be patient. Allow me my short span of happiness. Make your decision. Take your time. Study upon it. Be very certain. And when I... when I move on.... If it is your wish to follow him, and if you can succeed in winning him over, he is yours with my blessing.”

“And when will that be?” the girl asked tightly. “Should I agree to this unholy contract?”