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Chapter twenty-one

Nerys

A fter the encounter with the demon—and a dour dinner without their host—Nerys was summoned to Sun Holder Qiana’s rooms.

The lodge had changed with Qiana’s presence—it was more grand .

An extra half-dozen servants moved around the halls and the meals became noticeably more decadent.

That night they were served a pepper-crusted beef roast and wine from Rastiel.

If only Fina and Idris hadn’t interrupted her meat consumption by glaring all through dinner.

Poor Idris. While Nerys had an eye-curdling encounter with the demon…

guardian… thing , Idris had battled the Fina-monster, and survived. For now.

Though, what exactly did the Sun Holder want with her?

Qiana waited for Nerys by lounging on a couch and reading a novel.

Tonight, Qiana wore another night robe, which was dark purple and embroidered with silver flowers and skulls.

She apparently had a fixation for night robes.

Qiana sat up to greet Nerys, giving her a brief smile and motioning her to take the seat on an armchair across from her.

“Come, sit,” Qiana said as she tucked a leather bookmark into her book and set them aside. “It was rude of me not to join you for dinner—I returned so late that I didn’t want to interrupt.”

“You have your obligations. I can imagine many things need your attention.”

“Quite so.”

Nerys and Qiana exchanged pleasantries while Nerys made herself comfortable, taking her time to adjust her skirts and enjoy the sensation of the expensive cushion embracing her ass.

And then, once Nerys was settled and the polite conversation exhausted, Qiana sighed with the gravitas of a romance novel heroine.

On no. What was it? Did Qiana hear about Nerys’s flaws? Her many, many flaws…

“Are you ready for court?” Qiana asked, evaluating her new charge. “Court is difficult, even for actual courtiers.”

“Yes,” she said. No hesitation. Stopping now wasn’t an option .

Frowning, Qiana picked at a loose thread on the couch arm. “I know Idris can be…insistent. But if you’re not willing, I will decline to bring you.”

“No. I need to go.” In response, Qiana raised a questioning brow.

Slowly, she ran the fine wool of her skirts through her fingers.

How was she going to explain this? “The R?ll killed my family. Lots of families…if you had seen what they did to them...” Nerys blinked back emotion.

“I’ll never be able to forget it. No matter what.

Besides, I have nowhere else to go.” Was her lack of residence an issue?

Not really. Nerys was good at improvising.

But Nerys had limits to baring the contents of her heart to a stranger.

Qiana smiled sadly. “That’s not true. Idris offered to get you settled—he told me about Cerdoran.”

“On the condition I kill the R?ll first.”

Qiana shrugged. “For the title, perhaps.” A coy smile crossed her face. “I don’t think you’d have a hard time convincing him to take you away regardless.” Nerys gripped her skirts. What was that supposed to mean?

“If I can stop this from happening to others, I will. I have to.”

“I understand,” Qiana said softly. “I have a similar reason for helping you.”

“To stop the R?ll?”

“The curse.” Qiana’s head rocked back and forth, as if debating what to say. “I may as well tell you, since it’s common knowledge—the curse killed my parents. They tried to bring peace to the kingdoms, and died for it.”

“…I’m sorry. Truly.”

Qiana nodded in acknowledgement. “The curse protects itself. It always will.” Qiana turned and looked Nerys in the eyes. Yes, Qiana had her own reasons for acting as she did—she was haunted too. “The curse needs to be broken.”

“I understand.” How did her parents die? No, that would be inappropriate to ask. “But, if the curse is behind the R?ll summoning the demon, won’t it…protect itself? Aren’t you worried?”

“No. I’m not acting against the curse,” Qiana said matter-of-factly. “I’m just bringing someone to court. You aren’t confronting the curse either.”

“Um…”

“You are just stopping one ritual. Not trying to break the curse itself.”

“No, I’m not.” Yeah, Nerys was not Nerys the Cursebreaker. The curse could have a long happy life with lots of little curse babies as far as she was concerned. “Regardless, I have to do what I can. If I don’t, I’d still have the memories.” And a lifetime haunted by Adilette’s ghost.

“If you do this for us, Nerys, why” ?Qiana motioned with her hand? “it’d change the world. If you stop this, you’ll be saving the lives of thousands and preventing the kingdoms from falling into chaos. We’d owe you a debt we can never repay.”

Nerys nodded. Lives of thousands? Yes, that mattered to her. But they were just a number, people she’d never see, while Adilette and her family were real. And gone.

“I have to try. I’ll never forgive myself if I don’t.” 124

“I understand.” For a moment, Qiana’s eyes were overcome with sadness—then it was gone. As if tossing water on a fire, Qiana shifted to evaluating her new charge. “I’m glad for the chance to meet with you.”

“To prepare me for court?”

“Yes. In several ways.” Seeing Nerys’s confused expression, Qiana explained, “If we are to be guardian and ward, it will not do for us to act as strangers.”

“But you aren’t supposed to have met me before.”

“Yes, and it’d be expected I would take every measure to change that.” Qiana smiled. “You have to get used to being around me. No bowing your head each time I speak.”

“Yes—my—” Oh, damn. What was she supposed to call her? Graciousness? Gloriousness? Opulence?

“‘Qiana’ is fine. Too informal for public use, but in private, even the Kor’yitz dispenses with most formalities.”

“Oh. I mean, yes, my…Qiana.”

A servant knocked on the door and came inside at Qiana’s invitation. Great, it was the rigid manservant, who all but sneered at Nerys—and then left a tea tray on the table. Qiana thanked the manservant and sent him away, and bid Nerys to help herself.

With a steaming cup of tea in hand, Qiana said, “At least you’re handsome—I’d imagine most at court will forgive your indiscretions. Most of the men, at any rate.”

“Will the R?ll really notice me?” Bile rose in her throat. Maybe she could touch the R?ll with a rolling pin instead of her hands? Maybe some men liked that .

“Oh, I imagine he will. In fact, I’m glad you won’t be around court too long—my own position with the Kor’yitz might be compromised.” Qiana gave her a wink and Nerys chuckled, despite herself.

“I can’t imagine I’d distract anyone from you.”

“Ah—at least you’ve learned how to flatter. Yes, I think you’ll do fine. And the rest, well, let’s blame it on rural manners, shall we?”

Nerys’s words to Qiana weren’t mere flattery—Qiana wasn’t conventionally pretty, but conventional only got one so far. Instead, she had striking features, including wide-set eyes that dominated her face and pulled attention from any potential flaws.

The two of them spent the next hour going over what Nerys had already learned.

Ultimately, Qiana was pleased that she had Callidora’s history memorized, as well as a passable amount of court rituals.

“A little rough on the manners,” Qiana said, “but that will add to the illusion.” Qiana reminded her that she would be known as “Sword Man Callidora” only, henceforth.

By everyone. The transition was supposed to have started last night, but demons tended to interrupt plans.

“Won’t the courtiers be concerned,” Nerys asked, “that you’re so close to my age? And are my guardian?”

Qiana smirked. “Nosy gossips? Of course. Concerned and suspicious? Not at all. The role is mostly economic and symbolic—I’m hardly a parent.

” Qiana giggled and covered her mouth as she said the last part, showing just how young she was.

“Now” ?Qiana tapped the arm of her couch? “tell me, how was your day with the sight?”

Nerys froze. What should she tell Qiana?

Then again, what did she have to gain by hiding anything?

Qiana was her best chance to figure out how to deal with the demon.

Bit by bit, Nerys told Qiana everything about her visitor, and his offer.

Or what Nerys thought was an offer. She couldn’t really say what the deal was.

Protection, or something like it, in exchange for… something.

When she was done speaking, Qiana shook her head in disbelief. “Oh…this is interesting. You’re already getting propositioned.”

“Should I tell him to go away?”

“That won’t work.”

“Why not?”

“Demons aren’t known for manners. And forcing one like that away would probably be harder than just hoping he gets bored and leaves.

” Just wonderful. That demon didn’t seem like he became bored easy.

Qiana closed her eyes to take a deep breath, then slowly opened them. “I think you should accept his deal.”

“What! Why? How…with that…thing?”

“That ‘thing’ as you put it is a decently powerful demon.” Qiana met Nerys’s gaze.

“How do—”

“I told you I was going to look into it. I did. Sitri had a lot to say on the matter. 125 Do you know how hard it is to get any demon of worth to work with you? To even listen to you? And here you are, getting one practically for free!” 126

“That’s…quite a bargain.”

Qiana nodded, ignoring the sarcasm. “We will talk more later. I can’t tell you what to do—you’re the one who has to live with the consequences. Though, if I were you, I wouldn’t hesitate in accepting his help. He’s right—it will help at court.”

“And he won’t…eat me?”

Qiana smiled. “Not if you eat him first.”

Qiana instructed Nerys in how to bind the demon. Nothing prepared her for actually doing it. No, subjecting a powerful creature to one’s will and sealing its soul was something better read about than done. Like passing a bladder stone.

Nerys stood outside in the lodge’s yard, the black night concealing everything other than the faintest outline of trees, the silent watchers. The moon and stars were hidden behind clouds. The wind did not blow. Even the birds were silent. She was alone.

Or not so alone.

A creeping sensation worked its way down her back as a chill caressed her neck.

She closed her eyes and called her eyes of stone.

She had to interact with the other plane.

Yet she kept her eyes closed. Shifting her eyes would let her hear what lay in the other world, but she wasn’t going to look.

Otherwise, she’d lose her courage entirely.

“Demon,” Nerys whispered to the air, “if you’re serious about assisting me, then tell me your name.”

“Vine,” the male voice whispered in her ear with icy breath that danced on her skin.

Nerys swallowed and clenched her fists, eyes still clamped shut. “Vine…what do you want with me?”

“Revenge.”

“On me?”

A breathy laugh emanated over her neck. “No. Not on you.”

“Then who?”

“No one from your world.”

Why wouldn’t he answer her? Was this what Qiana cautioned her about?

This was a horrible idea. Horrible. What did he really want? And why did he need her, of all people?

“You need me, Nerys,” Vine hissed. The smell of rotten eggs was overwhelming, and she stifled the urge to gag. “You won’t survive otherwise.”

…Did she really need him?

“You’re trying to stop a demon summoning,” Vine continued, “in a court of demons. And worse. You. Need. Me.”

“And what do you plan on doing with me?”

Nerys swore she could hear him smile. “Nothing you wouldn’t do on your own. You’re not my ultimate concern. Merely a means to an end. An end you will enjoy, immensely.”

“So, I will be able to control you?”

A pause.

“Do you want to?”

Yes. Yes, she did. Demons were dangerous. Crafty. Who was she to try to work with one?

Vine chuckled in her ear. “Do you think that’s such a smart idea, trying to control us? Why do you think Sitri is shackled? He’d rip Qiana apart if given half a chance.”

“And you won’t do the same to me?”

There was a pause, before Vine said, “Do what you must, Crumpet. I know what I offered. I knew what it would take for you to accept me.”

Qiana told her how to bind him, like Sitri. It was the safest way to do this. Her gut roiled. Was she feeling pity, for a demon? Possibly. Maybe that was why demons hated their masters and worked to destroy them—the binding .

This was a bad idea. Such a bad idea. But she needed Vine’s help—who knew what having the sight at court would bring? Did she trust the demon? No. Qiana was right. She had to bind him.

“I accept your service,” Nerys said. “Demon. Vine. You are mine.” She then uttered the ancient Ca’mailian phrase, binding his soul to her own.

“Then open.”

Nerys opened her mouth, and a long-nailed finger rubbed something hot and sticky on her lips.

127 Nerys closed her mouth and gagged down the substance, no matter that the taste reminded her of pitch, ash, and shit.

She swallowed and breathed in the fresh night air while her stomach rebelled.

The smell of rotten eggs faded away, leaving only the scent of woods.

“It is done,” Vine said, his voice grimacing in pain.

Nerys opened her eyes.

She was alone.