Page 18 of Daemon Master

eighteen

Adrian leaned back, a smile playing over his face as he watched his daemons race toward the latest Unbendable Rod he’d tossed for them to fetch. Heartrender reached the rod first but couldn’t secure it in her jaws before Lockrod caught up. The two scuffled in the dirt until Lockrod emerged, lifting the rod triumphantly overhead as he scampered back to Adrian.

Lockrod won more often than not. Though Adrian couldn’t prove it, he suspected the daemon kept using his technique to shift the Unbendable Rod slightly beyond Heartrender’s reach. From the irritation radiating through their bond, Heartrender had reached the same conclusion. Ghosttear lounged nearby, maintaining its customary distance. Lockrod tried at first to convince the daemon to join in the game but eventually left it alone at Adrian’s urging.

The younger kids near Adrian marveled at his daemons. Though daemons were a common enough sight around the Enclave, they were rarely so playful. Seymour, meanwhile, led the adults and older children through a series of blocking exercises. A faint blush colored Adrian’s cheeks as he admired the watcher’s lithe, graceful movements.

These daily workshops had done wonders for their reputation. Over the last couple days, their group had swelled past thirty, with more showing up to watch. People who’d once turned the other way to avoid Adrian on the street now made a point to smile and greet him. A few had even given Seymour and him gifts to welcome them to their village.

Beyond his daemons, he glimpsed a familiar disapproving stare. His smile dimmed. Of course, not everyone had been so easily won over. Leda and her ilk continued to avoid them. He’d stumbled upon them several times huddled with other villagers while speaking in urgent whispers, no doubt reminding them of Adrian’s sins and the perils of daemon bonds.

Leda caught his gaze and held it for a long moment, her face contorting with disgust. Then, she spun, her long shawl flapping behind her like a cape as she stalked off down the street.

Adrian watched her go, disappointment souring his gut. He couldn’t win everyone over—he knew that. Still, he wished there was a way to show Leda they weren’t her enemies.

Another figure dashed toward their group. Even from this distance, he could make out the excited grin plastered across Freya’s face. “They’re back!” she shouted as she rushed past Leda’s disapproving scowl. “The caravan’s back!”

Every few weeks, the Enclave sent traders to the nearest town. Though located only a couple days’ travel by foot along the eastern stretch of Overlin Forest near the Bulwark, it seemed a world away to Adrian after the months they’d spent hiding out in the wilderness.

“Any news?” he asked as Freya halted, gulping for breath.

“Oh, lots!” She launched into a detailed account outlining everything the expedition had done, practically down to the minute. A few nearby villagers gave her fond looks or exasperated shakes of their heads, clearly used to her enthusiasm.

Adrian chuckled and raised his hand. “Hold on.” He walked to where Seymour was running through his latest drill. “I’m going to grab an early lunch with Freya. Want to come?”

The watcher fixed him with a slight frown, a bead of sweat dripping down his brow. “These people are as hopeless at self-defense as you were when we first started training. Food can wait until I’ve finished my lesson.”

Adrian suppressed a smirk. He’d had to drag Seymour to the first of these community outreach sessions. Now, less than a week later, the watcher refused to miss a single one. Perhaps, the villagers hadn’t been the only ones who’d needed to learn how to open up to outsiders.

Wishing Seymour good luck, Adrian informed the rest of the group that he’d be back tomorrow to answer more questions. He’d fielded a slew of them so far on everything from what life had been like in Hillvale to their adventures in Overlin Forest. As the crowd dispersed, Xander and a few of the others stopped to shake his hand or wish him a good day. It was nice to feel like part of a community again.

Not that your company’s not great, he sent to soothe Heartrender’s pulse of jealousy. But even though he’d never really felt like he belonged in Hillvale, ever since leaving, a part of him had longed for a new place to call home. In his weaker moments lying awake at night, he could imagine giving up his half-formed ambitions to expose Serenity Corp and settling in here to make a peaceful life for himself. Let the rest of the League figure out their own problems.

And leave the eternal war between humans and daemons to continue based on a lie…

No matter the temptation, that was a guilt he wasn’t prepared to bear. He couldn’t allow himself to become distracted from their purpose here. They had less than two weeks remaining to earn the Enclave’s trust and recruit them to their cause. That was the only thing that mattered.

Shoving away his melancholic thoughts, he refocused on Freya, who practically bounced up and down from being made to wait. The sight brought a faint smile back to his lips.

“All right, all right. Let’s go get some food, and you can finish telling me about the caravan.”

Freya’s ceaseless babble filled the air while he walked with her to the communal fires, nodding at Gabriella when she ladled a bowl of stew for him. He half-listened for any relevant news on Serenity Corp or the League while he ate, his thoughts wandering until something she said yanked his mind back to the present.

“Wait, what was that about a tournament?”

She rolled her eyes. “Of course, that part caught your interest. Peter said they had these big posters plastered all over town for the Diamond Cup. Have you heard of it?”

Adrian nodded. “It’s part of the Watcher Division’s dueling circuit. They invite that year’s most promising daemon masters to compete at the Crystal Arena in Haven. He frowned, recalling the announcement he’d seen in Hillvale. “But it should’ve ended weeks ago.”

“Rumor has it Serenity Corp wanted an even bigger spectacle than usual,” she said, leaning in conspiratorially. “So, they pushed the cup back a few months and opened it to the public! There’s a round of qualifiers coming up for anyone under the age of twenty-five willing to compete.”

An electric thrill raced through him at the thought. Participating in such a tournament had seemed ludicrous when he’d been a washed-up catcher with stunted aether channels. But now that he’d faced someone like Kali and walked away victorious, nothing seemed impossible.

Freya scuffed her feet against the ground. “Of course, everyone here is acting as though it’s the worst thing to ever happen. I suppose they’re right—forcing daemons to fight against their will for sport is pretty horrible, even if their deaths aren’t permanent.” She sighed wistfully. “Still, I’d love to see something like that. Maybe someday, the combatants will be real daemon masters like you and Seymour. I wonder how many people will be there.”

Adrian gave an absent shrug, still caught up in his daydreams. “Even the minor tournaments draw massive crowds. If Serenity Corp is hyping this one up, I can only imagine how many thousands of people will come to compete, let alone watch. Spirits above, even the League officials and Serenity Corp executives won’t want to miss…” He trailed off, his eyes widening.

Freya frowned at him. “What is it?”

“I think I just had either a very brilliant or very stupid idea.” Shaking himself out of his stupor, he dashed off, shouting over his shoulder, “Meet me at my hut. I’ve gotta grab Seymour!”

Adrian found Freya seated inside at their table when he arrived with Seymour in tow. Heartrender immediately curled up in her lap while Lockrod chittered playfully, hopping around the chamber until Freya offered him a snack of aether. Traitors, Adrian thought to them fondly.

Seymour crossed his arms, glowering at Adrian. “Now will you tell me what this is about?”

“Seconded!” Freya said. “Why did talking about the tournament make you run off?”

Seymour glanced at her sharply. “What tournament?”

Adrian took a moment to collect his racing thoughts while Freya caught Seymour up. “All that talk of the Diamond Cup got me thinking,” Adrian cut in once she’d finished. “What’s the main difficulty we face if we want to reveal the true bond’s existence to the League?”

“Serenity Corp murdering us first?” Seymour said.

“Everyone refusing to believe you?” Freya said.

He waved a hand. “Sure, those are part of it. But the way I see it, our biggest problem is just being heard. Serenity Corp controls everything—the government, their three divisions, and even the allegedly free guilds. The instant they caught wind of any rumors, they’d shut them down.”

Seymour gave a curt nod. “Hence our hiding here in this insignificant village.” He glanced at Freya. “No offense.”

“None taken,” she said. “It’s a fair point. People are skeptical of what they don’t understand. It’s much easier for Serenity Corp to maintain the status quo than for you to disrupt it.”

Adrian squinted at Freya. In his haste, he hadn’t given much thought to inviting her to join their discussion. After all the time they’d spent together the last couple weeks, it had only seemed natural. From Seymour’s lack of protest, he assumed the watcher felt the same way.

“Right,” he said at last. “That’s what’s had me stuck. I figured convincing the Enclave might be the first step toward revealing the truth. If we kept our intentions beneath Serenity Corp’s radar, we could slowly spread the word until it had disseminated too widely to contain.”

He paused and ran a nervous hand through his hair. Heartrender gave a mewl of encouragement from Freya’s lap while Lockrod scampered over to perch on his shoulder. With a rush of appreciation, he leaned his head against Lockrod. “But that could take years, giving Serenity Corp time to fight back. That’s where the Diamond Cup comes in.”

“How does a tournament change any of that?” Freya asked, furrowing her brow.

Seymour studied him. “You mean to compete,” he said, half-incredulous and half-admiring.

His pulse quickening, Adrian nodded. “Freya said they’ve opened admissions to the general public. All we’d have to do is pass the qualifiers. There’s no way Serenity Corp will be able to suppress the rumors if we make our case before an audience of thousands.”

Seymour snorted. “You honestly think you can beat the best daemon masters in the League?”

“I don’t have to win,” he said, shoving down his secret ambition to do exactly that. “I just need to make it far enough to draw a crowd. Besides, I wouldn’t be the only one competing. Haven’t you ever wanted to prove yourself the best?”

Seymour didn’t respond, but the longing gleam in his bright green eyes spoke volumes.

Adrian pressed his advantage. “Not to mention the unique benefits the true bond gives us over the competition. We’ll have to avoid showing our hand too early so Serenity Corp doesn’t intervene. But even without all our tricks, our daemons’ independence, coupled with our greater ability to share aether, should give us the edge we need to win.”

“Speak for yourself,” Seymour grumbled. “I’m perfectly capable of winning on my own.” Despite his tone, Adrian could tell he had him hooked.

Freya chewed on her bottom lip. “Isn’t this plan of yours a bit…risky?”

“It is,” Adrian admitted. “The tournament’s in Haven, the largest city in the League, so it’ll be tantamount to walking into the heart of enemy territory. There’s a good chance we’ll end up captured and at Serenity Corp’s mercy.” Squaring his shoulders, he firmed his voice. “But we have to do something besides running or hiding. This is our chance to make a real difference.”

Silence followed his fervent pronouncement. Freya continued to work at her bottom lip while Seymour scowled at the floor. The watcher slowly looked up, narrowing his eyes. “Let’s say I went along with this insane plan. How do you intend to reach Haven in time to compete?”

Adrian hesitated. “I haven’t had time to work out all the details,” he said, a touch defensively. “The qualifiers are still a couple months away.”

“And we’re on the opposite end of the spirit-cursed League!” Seymour retorted. “Even if it were possible to manage the journey on foot, we’d have to cross through dozens of towns, every one of which would risk exposing us to Serenity Corp’s watchers. There’s no way we’d make it to Haven undetected.” He stood, shaking his head. “I’m sorry, Adrian. I want to expose Serenity Corp as much as you do, but this isn’t a plan—it’s suicide!”

“I know how you can journey safely to Haven,” Freya said quietly.

Seymour froze, one hand already on the door. Both he and Adrian turned to Freya, her face scrunched in thought.

Adrian found his voice first. “You do?”

She nodded. “There’s a watcher fortress along the Bulwark about a week’s travel from here. If you hitched a ride on one of the airships they use to deliver supplies, you could shave off most of the travel time, all while avoiding the risk of capture on the ground.”

Seymour huffed an incredulous laugh. “Spirits below, you’re as crazy as he is! You think Serenity Corp would turn a blind eye if we strode into a stronghold and stole an airship?”

“You wouldn’t have to steal it. You could stowaway on board.”

“Or maybe even pose as watchers,” Adrian said, the idea taking root. He pointed at Seymour. “As a trained captain in the Watcher Division, surely you can bluff our way inside.”

“The two of you don’t get it!” Seymour said. “None of that matters—not when our faces have been distributed across half the League. Even if we reach Haven, Serenity Corp is running the spirit-cursed tournament. You don’t think they’d recognize their own stolen daemon?”

With every word Seymour spoke, Adrian’s fledgling hope shriveled. The watcher was right. They’d never be able to compete without revealing their true identities. If only they had some way to disguise their faces—to make themselves look like other people.

Heartrender perked up in Freya’s lap, raising her head to regard him with her trio of pale blue eyes. Her jumbled stream of thoughts flowed along their bond. He was getting better at interpreting what she meant, and it only took him a few seconds to piece her suggestion together. When he did, a wide grin spread over his face. It was bold, daring, and not a little bit stupid. But it also might be their best chance—their only chance—at pulling this off.

Seymour noticed his expression, his brows lifting. “Have you listened to a word I’ve said?”

“I have. And I think I—we,” he corrected with a glance at Heartrender, “have a solution.”

Seymour leaned back against the wall. “Well, let’s hear it, then.”

Adrian ignored the hint of skepticism he caught in the watcher’s tone. “What if we used aetherforged devices like the ones Kali had to alter our appearances?”

Seymour blinked. “Aetherforged…devices?”

Adrian swallowed, nodding. “The more I study Kali’s relics, the more certain I am that Serenity Corp and Crastley both discovered methods to imbue objects with daemonic techniques. If I can figure out how to do something similar with Heartrender’s Mirror Image, we could disguise ourselves as watchers to sneak into the fortress, then swap to new disguises in Haven to enter the tournament. No one would ever have to know it’s us—not until we’re ready.”

Freya drummed her fingers against the top of their rickety table. “Wouldn’t it be easier to just have Heartrender maintain the illusions directly?”

“Maintaining multiple complex illusions like that would place too great a strain on her aether. There’s no way she’d be able to fight while doing it, and Seymour and I would have to stick close to avoid leaving her radius of effect.” Freya winced at that, though he wasn’t sure why. When she kept quiet, he continued. “What if we needed to split up or something broke her concentration? No, aetherforged relics would be far more reliable.”

“And you think you can make such a device before the tournament?” Seymour asked.

Adrian hesitated. That’s the crux of the matter, isn’t it? “I’m not sure. But I intend to try.”

Seymour still appeared unconvinced. “This will require far more finesse than your daemon’s usual illusions if it’s to stand up to thousands of spectators. Can she even do it without aetherforging?”

“Not yet, but she says she will. She just needs to practice.”

Heartrender yipped her agreement.

“I can help,” Freya added. “Maybe not with the technique, but at least the aetherforging.”

Adrian shot her a grateful glance. Seymour fixed Adrian with a long, assessing look that made the back of his neck prickle. Then, the watcher shrugged.

“I suppose we’re stuck here for the next couple weeks anyway. If this is how you wish to spend your free time, then so be it.”

As Seymour departed to train and Freya left for her afternoon chores, Adrian’s chest tightened with the enormity of the challenges ahead. There were so many ways things could go wrong, from the Enclave’s rejection to his failure to unlock the secrets of aetherforging. It usually took aetherforgers years to master their craft. Spirits above, could he really pull this off?

Heartrender hopped into his lap and nestled there, mewling softly, while Lockrod took advantage of his shoulder perch to snuggle against the side of Adrian’s head. As always, their support soothed him. If they were willing to believe in him, he owed it to them to believe in himself. At least then, he’d know that, like his parents before him, he’d faced his duty head-on and done his best to conquer it…no matter how overwhelming the odds.