Authors: A. S. Fenichel
With a nod, they bid the family good evening and rushed back to the posting house. On the way she grappled with her part in the abduction. “Whether we find them or not, we will need to be out of this area before first light. We will not be revered no matter the outcome. People blame strangers no matter their good intentions.”
“At least we managed a few meals and a good night’s sleep.” His words were laced with mirth.
She chuckled too. Nothing was ever easy. She supposed it never would be.
* * * *
She’d been much better with the family than Dorian had expected. Everyone had taken to her, trusted her. In fact, when he thought of it, he too trusted her more than their acquaintance should warrant. What was it about the woman? She was beautiful, certainly, but there was something else, a quality he couldn’t quite put a word to. He’d felt the pull of attraction to Lillian long before this quest started. He’d always considered it a blessing that they were rarely in each other’s company. Whatever it was that drew him in, he wanted to know more about her.
They’d borrowed two horses from the inn’s stable and demanded saddles. Lillian refused the sidesaddle and asked for a man’s. The stable boy’s eyes bulged and his mouth hung open before he complied.
Dorian chuckled about it while they mounted.
They also informed the innkeeper they needed their things loaded in their carriage and horses ready before dawn. Lilly was right about one thing, no matter the outcome, they would not be welcome when they returned. People often blamed strangers for things they didn’t understand. Better to disappear before they had trouble with humans as well as demons.
She tracked two demons up a mountain pass, as if she’d been born to do nothing else. Perhaps that was the case. Still in the highlands, the terrain was rough, rocky and mountainous. It was an area better suited to sheep than horses. Green patches of grass between gray rock and purple heather.
Holding up her hand, she pulled the horse to a stop. Dorian slowed, watched, and waited.
Lillian touched her nose, alerting him to the scent of wood burning. The wind came out of the northeast. The almost full moon lit the night well enough. They dismounted, and tied the horses to a low bit of brush along the rocky pass.
Spending the bulk of his time with the hunters behind a desk, he willingly took a step back and allowed Lillian to take the lead. She was far more experienced in the field. The fact that she was a woman meant nothing in The Company.
He wished he was as unaffected by her feminine allure.
To his astonishment, she pulled a string at her waist, which lifted her skirts, and she tucked them into some kind of belt hidden at her hips. Above her high leather boots, he glimpsed her creamy thighs. His gaze dropped to her curvy flesh and an array of weapons cleverly stored inside her skirts instead of focusing on the danger ahead. He met her gaze.
“Try to stay alive, Dorian. Do not get distracted.”
He looked her up and down one more time. “You ask the impossible, Lilly.”
The wicked look she gave him was almost as enticing as the curve of her leg. She turned and climbed up the rock-strewn hill to the right. He followed, making an effort not to admire her bare legs or the throwing knives strapped around her right thigh. When they reached the precipice, flames blazed as high as ten feet in the center of a clearing. Two demons fed the fire, one a small trebox with scaly dark skin and the other a larger, dumber malleus covered in slime. To the far left of the fire, three children huddled together. The smallest girl wept loudly while the other two tried to comfort her.
Alive! A surge of elation followed by a wave of fear assaulted him. Could he and Lillian keep those children alive?
The malleus stood as tall as the flames and sang in a low grating tone. Firelight reflected off its slimy skin as it tore a year old tree from the ground, roots and all. As if it were a twig, the malleus tossed it on the fire. Flames roared higher and his voice grew louder. Dorian knew nothing of the demon language, but the eerie cadence churned his guts.
The trebox slunk around the fire. He used two hands on a sword, carving symbols in the hard ground. This trebox had shed his human clothes, exposing his hunched back and visible ribcage.
A recent report had crossed his desk depicting a similar scene in England. When they completed drawing the runes, the innocents would be sacrificed. “They mean to open a gate. We only have until the song ends.”
Lillian’s eyes widened. She reached into the folds of her underskirt and released a small crossbow from its holster, chocked an arrow, and took aim. “We will need to move fast.”
“Ready.”
She let the arrow fly.
It pierced the malleus demon’s left eye, silenced the song mid-word, and dropped the enormous monster to the ground before he even had time to roar.
The trebox screamed in the language only demons understood. He took up the song his comrade had been chanting and wrote faster in the dirt.
Dorian pulled one throwing knife from the belt strapped around Lillian’s smooth skin. He jumped over the hill and ran down, dagger raised in his left hand.
The trebox rushed at him with its eyes focused on the long knife.
When he was within range, he let the smaller blade fly.
It buried deep in the greenish creature’s throat. He crumpled with a whine.
Lillian ran behind him down the hill.
All three children screamed and cried.
She charged past them and kicked dirt on the fire.
“What are you doing?”
“I think he might have gotten the incantation finished. Look at the way the smoke curls in on itself. Evil will find a way in even without the sacrifice. Once opened, I don’t know how to close a gate.”
It was unnatural the way the smoke did not move with the breeze. The ground rumbled. Dorian kicked dirt on the fire and rubbed out the carved runes from the ground.
The boy ran over and helped put the fire out.
The ground stilled, the flame’s heat died on the wind, and silence shrouded the night.
Dorian crouched near the patch of charred ground. Sulfur or some similar odor assailed his senses. Beads of sweat dripped down the side of his face and his heart pounded against his breast. He’d never felt more alive. Whether it was the fight or the woman beside him, he didn’t know. The rush of energy flowing through his body might become a habit.
“Dorian, behind you!”
Dagger raised, he turned for the next attack.
The creature rushing toward him was the size of a child, covered with hair all over its large head and sturdy limbs. It scaled the side of the rocks near the two crying girls. It moved like a spider on a web along the vertical face of the rock.
The pravus demon’s red eyes filled with pure mischief and evil. It leered down at the children as if they were a roast pig on the spit.
Dorian flew as fast as his feet would take him past the boy. He threw himself over the girls as the creature dropped from the rock face.
“Do not let it touch you!”
Lillian’s cries were pointless. The thing was on his back. He reached back and grabbed a handful of wiry hair, tearing it away from his jacket. The fabric ripped. Turning, he meant to toss it as far away as possible from the children.
“Here,” Lillian called, ten feet from him.
His entire upbringing screamed for him to toss the dangerous demon as far away from the woman as possible. Yet her warrior stance, shining eyes, boots, bare thighs, soot on her face, and blades in both hands gave him confidence. Dorian tossed the demon toward Lillian.
As the demon spun through the air, its high-pitched cry made Dorian cringe.
Lillian whirled, knives outstretched, extension of her arms. She sliced through the center of the horrid creature. The thing dropped at Lillian’s feet in two pieces. Black blood oozed around its shattered body.
Dorian searched the darkness for further threats, but saw nothing. He eased away from the girls who had stopped crying and looked up at him with wide blue eyes.
Their brother rushed over. “Sir, what were those things?”
He was no more than twelve or thirteen. How did Dorian answer? He put his hand on the boy’s thin shoulder. “They were pure evil. My lady and I aim to destroy such things. You might be best served by saying it was strange men who took you and your sisters. We will take you home now.”
It wasn’t much of an explanation, but the boy nodded and gathered his sisters to him.
They lifted the children onto the horses and kept a slow pace toward the village. Lillian and Dorian walked down the craggy hillside leading the horses.
Lillian did not look at him or speak. She had returned her dress to the more customary design, and her legs were covered. There was no sign of a weapon. Other than the smudges on her hands and face, she might have been a fine lady out for a morning stroll with some local children.
The first gray of day glowed in the east when they dropped the exhausted trio off at the Thrush home. Mrs. Thrush cried and smothered the children, but Mr. Thrush looked at the rescuers with a wary eye.
By the time they arrived back at the posting inn they were dirty and tired, but there was no time for the niceties of a bath or even a short rest. Once they handed off their mounts to the stable lad, they paid the fee for their stay. The innkeeper handed them a parcel of food, though he averted his gaze and bid them a hasty good-bye.
Lillian thanked him, took Dorian’s hand, and climbed into the curricle. He took the reins and made a quick exit south toward Edinburgh.
Dorian drove until they were well out of sight of the posting house, then handed the reins to Lillian.
In spite of the muddy roads, she drove the horses hard for a few miles, then took the team down to a comfortable pace.
Dorian kept his quiet for two hours, watching the sun come up and the scenery pass them by. They were lucky the weather was fine. Though the curricle had a cover, it would do them little good in a driving rain. Still, the past day’s rain made the roads more difficult to traverse.
Her shoulders were stiff and her back unyielding.
“Are you angry with me or with something else?”
“I’m not angry.”
“I prefer the truth, if it’s all the same to you.”
“You could have been killed. Those pravus demons are small, but the poison from their bite almost killed Reece.”
“I appreciate your concern. I read the report. I was aware of the danger. Would you have me allow that thing to bite one of the children?”
Danger flashed in her eyes. “Of course not.”
“What then would you have preferred?”
“You did exactly as you should. I have no reproofs. Your skill as a soldier is most impressive.” She made the compliment dryly and without the emotion brewing behind her stunning eyes.
“Thank you. Do you care to discuss what is troubling you?”
“Not particularly.”
“Then I will speculate that you have grown attached to me, and your worry has driven you to anger.”
Her eyes narrowed. “My only worry is Cullum will blame me for getting his assistant killed.”
“Ouch. I can see I am mistaken. It is good to know my place.” But she had worried for his safety, and knowing it stirred joy inside him.
“Be more careful.”
He let the subject drop. The demons had not been expecting hunters to find them. They were opening a gate either to get back to their own realm or to bring more demons out. “May I make an observation, Lilly?”
“Hmm?”
“I do not believe the events of last night were meant to slow our progress or distract us from our mission.”
She glanced his way while maneuvering the horses around a large puddle. “Why do you say that?”
“Because if anything, it hastened our trip. We might have stayed several more hours at least had we not taken on the short errand. Three demons is hardly a distraction, at least not for you. I should think the two of us warranted more than a few hours of distraction.”
She drove slowly through a rutted bit of road. “You think it a coincidence that we happened to be there at just the right time?”
“I don’t know. Maybe the master is manipulating us, wants us in Edinburgh.” The wheel hit a rut in the road. He clutched the seat to keep from lurching from the carriage.
“If that is the case, then we might be playing into his hands. It also means the master is privy to our whereabouts.”
“Indeed. It might be inferred that he is also aware of your personal mission.” His stomach knotted. “So why would he want us to arrive in Edinburgh earlier?”
“This is your notion, Dorian.”
He laughed. “It is, but it needs some more theorizing.”
Her eyes narrowed while her clever mind went to work. It would be interesting to see what she makes of the available information. Everything about her excited him and set his blood boiling. The archives under the castle were dank and dusty, and he couldn’t wait to spend time there because it would be time with her.
“Lilly, I’m going to ask something of you that you will not like.”
“You want me to put aside my current quest and follow another path.” It was not a question.
“Not put aside, but perhaps refocus on a bigger picture. Shafton should be investigated. However, I believe we may have stumbled on something more urgent. If we continue on the path to discredit Shafton, we may be playing into the master’s hands.”
“I still believe it is all connected. And if we follow the clues to his lordship, and we can decipher the information, we will find the master.”
“It might be a better use of our time to locate the gates to the demon realm.”
“What good is it to find them? We do not have the knowledge to close them and stop the demons from crossing into our world?”
“Not very much good at all, but to know how to close them and not know where they are is equally useless. We have to start somewhere.”
By late afternoon the sun was hot and they still had a long ride to a suitable inn. Lillian pulled off the road toward a grouping of trees.
“Where are we going?”