Demonkin (22 page)

* * * *

K’san’s face was split by a broad grin. His head fell back, and he began laughing uproariously. Barely visible behind the demonkin was the naked body of an elven woman spread across an altar. As Garth watched, K’san’s head disappeared and the woman’s body distorted and grew to immense proportions. Garth winced as the woman’s body exploded and another K’san leaped from the ruins of her body to stand upon the altar. Horror gripped Garth’s heart as the demonkin dissolved and coalesced into the shape of a young lad. Garth stared in confusion as the young lad suddenly turned into an old woman and then a young woman with fiery hair. The figure kept changing its appearance until Garth could no longer memorize the many disguises of the demonkin. Screaming at the top of his lungs for the demonkin to stop, Garth raced forward to kill them all.

“It’s alright,” Kalina said softly as she hugged Garth.

Garth opened his eyes and stared at his wife. Sweat was pouring down his face, and his fists were clenched in balls of rage.

“Alright?” Garth echoed gaspingly. “You have no idea.”

“They kept changing, didn’t they?”

Garth’s eyes narrowed as he looked at Kalina. “I was talking in my sleep?”

“No, Garth,” Kalina said compassionately. “I also dreamed it. There is meaning to the dream. It is a warning.”

“You dreamt it, too?” asked Garth. “He is in the city, isn’t he? The Mage is here.”

“I suspect that he is.” Kalina nodded. “I think he is warning us that the nature of demonkin is changing. No longer can we rely on the face of K’san to warn us. The demonkin can now appear as anyone.”

“That is what the endless display of people on the altar was?”

“Yes,” Kalina replied. “We have been too successful in killing K’sans.”

“We have not been successful enough in my book,” snarled Garth. “It is time that we started taking out the demonkin wherever we find them.”

“Be cautious,” warned Kalina. “To kill a demonkin is to alert the others to your location.”

“Their herd mind will not help them so much when the herd is thinned to none,” growled Garth. “These vile beasts have no place in this world.”

It was just after sunrise when the riders first appeared in the city of Olansk, but the city’s thieves had already noted their arrival. Word quickly spread through the streets and alleyways and soon the city’s lesser denizens were worked up into a frenzy. When the pair dismounted in front of the Aranak Dunes, one of the thieves whispered to Morro from the safety of a sewer.

“Where are the others?” the thief whispered at Morro’s feet. “Do you need to be rescued?”

Morro knelt as if adjusting his boot. He peered into the sewer with a smile on his face. “Tell Cracker that we are staying at the Aranak Dunes. Tell him to come and pay us a visit.”

“Are you daft?” came the incredulous reply. “Cracker’s not leaving the lair. You should know that.”

Unexpectedly, Kalina knelt next to Morro. The face of the thief in the sewer paled as the witch stared down at him.

“Tell Cracker to come visit us,” Kalina said with a mischievous grin on her face. “We visited him the last time. It is only fair that he reciprocate.”

Kalina did not wait for an answer. She straightened and grabbed the reins of her mount. Morro did likewise, and the two travelers walked their horses to the stables behind the inn. They went inside the inn and procured a room. They were not in the room for a half hour before there was a knock on the door. Morro opened it and let in a man with a receding hairline. Without an exchange of words, Morro led the man to the table and everyone sat down.

“Cracker?” Kalina asked softly. “I do not recognize you without your hood.”

“It wouldn’t be smart to go around town with a hood over my face now would it?” the thief replied with a chuckle.

“I suppose not,” smiled Kalina.

“I see that you finally caught up with Morro. I am not surprised. Where are the others?”

“All over the place,” sighed Kalina. “I am sorry to drag you out of your den, but this is less disruptive for all of us.”

“I do not mind,” smiled Cracker. “It is actually refreshing to walk around without my hood, and no one even recognizes me. What brings you back to Olansk?”

“There is a carpenter here that has caught my interest,” explained Kalina. “The name of the shop is Orkare and Son. Morro and I need some time inside alone, and we don’t have days to study the man’s habits. What can you tell us about the shop?”

“Old man Orkare is long dead,” answered Cracker. “It is the son who runs it now. He is a single man, never having married. He lives above the shop and seldom goes out. I take it that you don’t want anyone to know that you have ever been inside?”

“You understand correctly,” answered Kalina.

“How much time do you need?”

“An hour ought to do,” replied the Knight of Alcea. “Can you help?”

“I think so,” mused Cracker. “The one time he does go out is for the evening meal. He isn’t very sociable, and his meals are often short, but my people can keep him from returning to the shop for an hour. He will leave the shop right after sundown. You will have an hour from then. Will that suffice?”

“Quite,” smiled Kalina.

“Do you mind me asking what you two are doing together? The last time I saw you, you were going to kill Morro.”

“I don’t believe I ever actually threatened that,” chuckled Kalina. “Morro and I have grown quite fond of one another.”

“I think Cracker is trying to determine if I am with you of my own free will,” laughed Morro. “I can assure you, old friend, that I am in good company with these merchants. I am getting to see parts of the world that I had only dreamed about.”

“Merchants!” scoffed Cracker. “Do not expect me to believe such things. You have answered my primary concern, though. I am glad that both of you are happy with your new situation, although we miss you around here, Speedy. I could use someone with your talents to shape up the new recruits. They are getting worse with each passing month.”

“Maybe a day will come when the young have no need to steal, Cracker,” smiled the elf. “When that day does arrive, do not be reticent to leave your old life behind.”

“I should live so long,” laughed the head thief.

Morro rose and Cracker picked up on the need to leave. He rose and exited the room. Kalina immediately curled up on the bed and fell asleep. Morro rested on the floor. When he woke hours later, Kalina was already up. She was sitting at the window watching the sun slip lower in the sky.

“We should go downstairs and have the evening meal early,” Kalina said when she saw Morro was awake. “We haven’t eaten all day.”

Morro nodded wordlessly, and they went down to the common room for a meal. They finished eating before sunset and headed down the street towards the carpentry shop. They slid into an alley across the street from the shop and waited. A little after sunset the carpenter exited his shop. He carefully looked up and down the street before locking the door and heading off for a meal.

“Let’s go,” Morro urged conspiratorially.

Kalina followed the elven thief across the street and into another alley. They moved along the alley and emerged at the rear of the shop. Morro deftly opened a window after defeating the locking mechanism. He slid into the dark interior of the shop and then helped Kalina through the window.

“What are we looking for?” Morro whispered.

“Clint found records from this shop for thirty pairs of doors,” Kalina explained. “I want to see what records exist here for those doors. You check the desk. I will go upstairs and check his lodgings.”

“I will go upstairs,” offered Morro. “He keeps his home locked even during the day.”

Kalina wanted to ask Morro how he knew such details, but the thief was already moving towards the stairs. She moved to the desk and began opening the drawers. Kalina found a thick book in the first drawer she opened. She opened the book and peered at the pages, but there was not enough light to read the scrawled words. She retrieved a ring from her pouch and mumbled a few words over it, and the ring began to glow. She slipped the ring onto one of her fingers and examined the book. The book was a work journal, and she found the entry for the doors rather easily. It took up most of a page. The details regarding the doors were lengthy and very precise. Every measurement was detailed with tight tolerances. Even the type of wood to be used was specified, and Kalina was intrigued to discover that no mahogany was to be used. She thought about that for a moment. She wondered why the Federation had chosen a carpenter way out in Olansk to build the doors, yet prohibited the use of mahogany that the area was so famous for.

Kalina shook her head and continued reading. There were large notes scribbled to the right of the specifications, and Kalina squinted to read the scrawl. The notes detailed the delivery of the finished doors, but there was actually no delivery at all. The doors were to be picked up by a priest and taken away to be blessed. After they were returned, an army unit was to pick them up at the shop. At the end of the entry were three sets of numbers. Kalina frowned at the numbers. She memorized the strange numbers and closed the book. She returned it to the drawer and continued searching the desk. One large drawer was filled with folders. Each folder had a number on it. She moved through the folders quickly and pulled the first one she found that matched one of the three numbers. She opened the folder and found a piece of paper authorizing the building of the doors. It was signed by Grand General Kyrga. She closed the folder and searched for the next number. That folder contained a piece of paper accepting receipt of the doors. It also had another piece of paper attesting to a blessing of the doors. Both papers were signed by K’san. The third folder held another receipt for the doors. It was signed by General Tauman, Commander of the First Corps. Kalina replaced the folders and closed the drawer. She looked up to see Morro watching her.

“A ring like that must be a useful tool,” Morro said softly. “Did you find anything?”

“I did,” answered Kalina, “but what I found raises even more questions. I will need to speak to the carpenter.”

“If we delay much longer,” warned the elf, “he will arrive and make your wish come true. It is time for us to leave.”

Kalina nodded and rose. She followed Morro to the window, and they exited the building. Morro closed the window and reengaged the lock. They used the alley to regain the street. One of Cracker’s people noticed them and sent a message to his fellow cohorts that the diversion could end. Moments later the carpenter trudged down the street and entered his shop. He slammed the door on his way into the building.

“He might not be in the mood to talk,” Morro said in the alley across from the shop.

“He does seem angry,” frowned Kalina. “I wonder what Cracker did to delay him.”

“I imagine that they taunted him and kept him from returning here.”

“Perhaps I can soothe his feelings and get some information at the same time.”

Morro merely shrugged as Kalina stepped out of the alley and crossed the street. She stepped into the shop and quietly closed the door.

“The shop is closed,” groused Orkare.

“I won’t take up much of your time,” Kalina said cheerily. “I merely want to ask a question of someone who knows a great deal about woodworking. I heard that you were the most knowledgeable carpenter in all of Olansk.”

The shopkeeper turned to gaze at the intruder. Kalina was still a young-looking woman, and Orkare was struck by her beauty. “My father was famed for his accurate work. I like to hope that I have upheld the family tradition. What is the question?”

“I recently came through Zinbar,” Kalina said with a warm smile. “There is an artisan there who makes beautiful figurines and I was tempted to buy one for a favorite aunt of mine, but this aunt refuses to have anything in her home that is not blessed by a priest. When I mentioned this to the artisan, he scoffed at me. He said that priests would never bless anything made of mahogany. Needless to say, I refused to buy the figurine, but now I am sad that I did not purchase it. It was beautiful after all. As you are a master in the arts of wood, I was wondering if you can explain the blessing of wood and how the priests do it.”

The shopkeeper’s eyes narrowed as he stared at Kalina. He remained silent for a moment and then shook his head. “I really don’t know much about the blessings of priests,” he confessed. “The only time I had anything blessed by a priest, he carried the goods away and then brought them back after he was done.”

“Was the piece mahogany?” asked Kalina.

“No,” answered Orkare. “Strangely enough, the job specified no mahogany. I thought that strange at the time, but maybe there is some truth in what the artisan is telling you.”

“I would really like to know for sure,” frowned Kalina. “Perhaps you could direct me to the priest that blessed your work?”

“I would gladly do so,” frowned the shopkeeper, “but I do not know him. He is not from Olansk.”

“Where is he from?” asked Kalina.

“I do not know. He arrived one day and asked for the doors. He did not even have a wagon to carry them. I had to lend him my wagon. He went east on the Aranak Road, but I know of no temple out that way. I wish I could help you more.”

“You have been most kind,” smiled Kalina. “I think I might travel back up to Zinbar and talk to the artisan once more. Good evening to you, Orkare.”

The shopkeeper smiled and nodded to Kalina before she left the shop. Kalina returned to the Aranak Dunes and Morro showed a moment later.

“What did you learn?”

“I think Orkare was chosen for two reasons,” stated Kalina. “The shop was known for its accuracy, and the specifications were very precise. The other reason was its location close to the Forest of Death.”

“The Forest of Death?” Morro echoed with confusion. “Why there?”

“That is where the spells were put on the doors,” answered Kalina. “I was hoping that this trip to Olansk might reveal the magic used to make the Doors, but I see now that this is just a waste of our time. Orkare is nothing more than a carpenter.”