Chapter 38: Enclave VIII

Chapter 38: Enclave VIII

I woke up, like I always did, around midnight in the room Jorra and I shared. It would be easy to blame it on the vurseng. But the truth was I had already started to expect for things to go wrong. The relative tranquility of the enclave never sat well with me. It was almost like a voice, whispering in the back of my mind, that I was too comfortable here. Reminding me that at any moment, it could all be snatched away. I drug myself out of the bed quietly and dressed, being extra quiet, the comments Kilvius had made the prior day at the forefront of my mind.

After a brief visit to the bathroom to wash my face, I prepared to leave for the night.

The slow, rousing cry of a baby froze me in my tracks. Strange. Agarin rarely woke in the middle of the night these days. It was probably fine. Any minute, a lantern would be lit, and either Kilvius or Nethtari would trudge down the hallway, wiping sleep from their eyes. Only, it didnt happen. Come to think of it, they had both looked particularly tired after dinner that evening.

I glanced at the front door, then swore quietly under my breath and slipped into Agarins room. The baby had unsettled me at first, to a degree that bewildered. It took a while to figure out why. It had nothing to do with the color of his skin, or his tiny tail, or the little black horns that already poked out of his skull. It was something else, something deeper.

Being a father was something Id never thought about before Lillian. Id hidden my more visceral reaction from her because she needed support, not additional panicbut gods had I panicked. Every little slight my father had made, the way even the smallest things affected my sisters and I later in our lives, suddenly magnified in my mind, the level of responsibility so overwhelming it was almost paralyzing. How could I possibly be a father when Id never seen what a father was supposed to be?

And so Id blundered forward, forcing down the fear for her sake. And after she was taken from me, there was anger, and grief, and hatred. But beneath it all was the tiniest whisper of something else.

Relief.

Relief that I would not be able to do to that child what my father had done to me. And I had buried that relief under an ocean of liquor and wine, until I had forgotten it all together.

That is, until Rin.

Cair? He said. He was standing, his small hands clutching the wooden slats that made up the walls of the bassinet Nethtari and I had expanded to make it safer. Cair? Up?

Despite myself, I smiled. Sure thing, bud. I hefted him out of the bassinet, grunting slightly. Hed put on weight at a rate that had to be exclusive to infernals, theres no way human babies could possibly weigh this much. Making sure to support him from beneath, I carried him over to the rocking chair across the room. There I rocked him in silence, the only sound in the house the slow creak of the chair. His white eyes repeated the cycle of unfocusing and nearly closing, only to snap open again.

I poked his nose gently, and he stirred, looking horribly aggrieved.

Why? He asked.

Thats what Im saying. Why are you trying so hard to stay awake when everyone else is sleeping? I pointed to the darkness outside the window. See? No sun. Its sleepy time.

Rin clung to my errant finger when it came into poke his nose a second time. Story! he insisted. I snickered. Maybe this was karma, coming back to settle accounts for the inordinate number of times I must have said that word to my mother.

We cant make a habit of this, you know. Nethtari would kill me if you kept waking up asking for storiesshed know exactly who to blame.

A moments pause. Story!

Fine, fine. I settled into the rocking chair, and launched into a highly modified selection of the assorted tales of Sir Gantry the Wise. Only, in this version, Sir Gantry was a cyan-skinned infernal.

Sir Gantry approached the pixies of Regal Grove with many gifts, hoping to learn the secret to their metals thatwhen honed properly, could cut through stone like butter. The pixies fled from Sir Gantry. Only when he laid out an offering of wine and sweet berries did they finally approach. Sir Gantry caught one of the pixies in a net. The pixies name was Song. He assured her he did not mean her any harm, he simply wanted to talk. Song was young, but clever, and answered his questions with a question. She said that if Sir Gantry could answer one question correctly, she would tell him the secret of the magical pixie steel.

The question was: what is justice?

Nethtari had entered the room halfway through the story, clothed in a simple white nightdress. She pointed at the baby in my arms and I trailed off, looking down to find Rin fast asleep, thumb planted firmly in his mouth. I snorted. Too much philosophy in that story, it seemed. Slowly and carefully, I returned him to his bassinet, taking care to cushion his head as I placed him down.

Nethtari spent some time telling me how it would work. The emissary selection was not unlike a major trade event. Some demons from higher-end legions were incredibly picky, some were less so. There were certain legions known to be trustworthy and cooperative, others to be avoided at all costs. Most important of all was the trophy. Id need something to draw attention, to differentiate myself from the others. Jorra had been given a small fragment of a sword that once belonged to an arch-fiend, an heirloom passed down from Nethtari herself.

What? I asked, amused. My royal blood wont suffice as bait?

Nethtari shook her head seriously. Not unless you wish to bind yourself to a demon. Hopefully, I dont have to tell you how bad that would be. No, all demons really care for is wealth, artifacts, and demonstrations of strength.

I mulled over a few different ideas. It would not be terribly difficult to acquire wealth, but that would require leaning on my fathersomething Id prefer to avoid at all costs, as I was already in his debt and his reasons for being so bizarrely cooperative were still unknown to me. I had no artifacts, and I wasnt particularly strong. But there was one thing I could do that no one else in the enclave could.

What about these asmodials, running around? Say I slay a couple of lesser asmodials and use the dantalion flame to seal them. Would their ashes work as a boon?

Nethtari gave that some thought. Perhaps. It would close some doors to you, but most demons are as annoyed with the asmodials as the rest of us, as their rebellion is severely interrupting the flow of things and generally giving the rest of them a bad name.

The idea of demons being so invested in their reputations was endlessly amusing to me.

However, it would be dangerous. Im not sure you should be taking such risks. Having a boon wont help you if youre dead.

I shrugged. Its just a thought.

Itd be worth broaching to Ralakos, at the very least. He might loan you a couple of guards for an expedition into the surface caves, Nethtari said. She paused for a long moment. I could tell she was deciding whether or not to say something, the air between us growing oddly thick. Cairn? She finally asked. What is my daughter to you?

The sudden change of subject felt like an ambush. I coughed out a lungful of acrid smoke, wheezing until my breath normalized. Really, though, it was only normal that she would ask. We probably seemed abnormally close, to outside observers who didnt share the full breadth of our history. But that was all, I was sure of it. The lingering looks, the odd pang in my chest, it was nothing more than simple adolescent growing pains.

Maya is a dear friend to me. She saved my life. Theres very little I wouldnt do for her, I said, carefully.

Spoken like a true politician. A friend, then. Nethtari confirmed. There was a strange look in her eyes.

Yes. I extended out the word in exasperation. Why did people keep interrogating me on this topic? Theres nothing wrong with her. Shes beautiful, and amazing, and incredibly smart. Shes important to me and Ill do whatever I can, now and in the future to help her succeed. But Im theres someone waiting for me back in Whitefall.

An arranged marriage?

More predestined, really. Part of my visions.

And Maya knows this? Nethtari asked. Her voice was casual, but this was starting to feel more and more like an interrogation.

Yes. I took one final pull from my pipe, before it burned out.

I see. Nethtaris questions finally relented, and she turned inwards in thought. I slung my rucksack over my shoulder and prepared to leave. Nethtari dumped the ash out of her pipe into a nearby tray.

Dont stay out too late, Nethtari said. For just a moment, she looked terribly sad, though it passed just as quickly. Were heading to the edge to see her off, bright and early.

I wont. I waved without looking, and headed off towards the training cave, trying very hard not to think about the fact that by this time tomorrow night, Maya would be gone.Follow current novels at novelhall.com)