Demon's Cradle (Devany Miller Book 3) (8 page)

BOOK: Demon's Cradle (Devany Miller Book 3)
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“Oh. Have you found anything yet?” I’d asked him to find out what happened when Skriven united with their souls, hoping some enterprising Originator some time down the line had done some experimenting and found the answer.

“Unless this book holds the answers, I got nothing. You’ll have to do the rest of the research on your own.”

“What? Why?”

“Only Originators are allowed in the Hall of Memories.” He said it like I was supposed to know that.

“Well, I hope what I need is in there then, because I don’t have time to go hunting. I have too much shit going on.” I hooked my thumbs in my belt loops. “Why is it that everything bad always happens all at once?”

“I’m afraid I do not know.”

“You’re not very helpful.”

He picked up a small packet bound with a tan string, and pushed it at me. Close up, I realized the string was actually something that used to be part of a living creature. Don’t ask, Devany. Don’t ask. “What is this?”

“You told me I could utilize the library at Tytan’s manse, did you not?”

“Yeah.” I drew out the word as I brought the papers closer to inspect the cord. String? Tendon? Ew.

“I found that in a cubby hole situated behind one section of books. Those are Ravana’s documents. Records of her experiments.”

Tytan had told me his former mistress enjoyed experimenting on him, Ellison, and the rest of her spawn. “There isn’t much here.”

“It’s infinity paper.” He sighed when he saw my expression. “Infinite paper. That could hold five pages worth of writing or five million pages. Infinity means—”

“I know what infinity means, thank you very much. It’s not used on Earth literally except in math class.” Infinity paper. Wild. “Will it still work on Earth?”

“It should in your presence. Otherwise it will just look like an old sheet of parchment.”

I wasn’t sure I wanted to find out what she was experimenting on and in all honesty, what did it matter? “Do you think she had info about Skriven with souls in here?”

He shrugged. “I know not. But if anyone had looked into it, Ravana would have. She was obsessed with souls and her spawn and creating new things.” He nodded once. Stopped. Nodded again. “You did her spawn a great service when you killed her. Because of that, and because you claimed me and kept me safe from Amara, I will search farther afield. For you. Only you.”

I was honored. Vasili hated being away from the Slip. He would have no power in either place except that which he could pull from me. I wasn’t an asshole like most Originators and allowed a steady pull as long as they abided by my no wanton killing edict. So far so good. Even with my relaxed strictures, he hated leaving his home. “Thank you.”

“You may not want to let the one you call Tytan know you have those papers.”

I stared at them as if they’d grown teeth. “Why?”

“A feeling. He had them hidden for a reason.” Vasili seated himself behind a broad table covered in books and test tubes. “They should have gone to you when you unmade Ravana. Everything she owned or created. Have you asked yourself where all that wealth went?”

 

***

 

Vasili’s words echoed in my head as I hooked home to put the infinity paper in my underwear drawer. I pondered for a minute, wondering if it was the safest place for it: Tytan had a habit of popping into my bedroom and bathroom. I wouldn’t put it past him to snoop. I dithered for a moment, then left the paper where it was. I could think more about it later, when I had time. I hooked to Marantha’s house in Midia. I hadn’t seen her since she helped me get Arsinua out of my head and into Lucy’s body. Perhaps she would have info about what these Riders were and how I could find and kill the little bastard before its potential took up residence in my son’s head.

Marantha’s house was a sweet little cottage surrounded by blooming flowers, some growing on the bushes like they would on Earth and some floating in midair, twirling like ballet dancers. I tapped one with my finger and it popped, spraying petals everywhere. I glanced around in guilt but it was dusk in Midia and no one saw me kill the blossom. Stupid magic flowers.

I knocked, and a musical tinkle filled the air.

“Coming! Coming.” The door swung open.

“Oh wow, is it good to see you,” I said.

Her eyes sharpened. She glanced around and then slammed the door in my face.

Tempted to blast my way into her house too, I stepped away and stared sightlessly at my own feet. Was there a reason she’d be pissed at me? Something I’d said or done at our last meeting?

In the distance, a lilting tune filled the air with glittery notes that floated past me on the breeze.

Was Marantha being watched too?

I looked around, then realized that if anyone were spying on her, they now knew I was aware of it. Damn it. To my surprise, the door swung open. Marantha didn’t look any friendlier. “Here. Take your jewelry and don’t come back again.” She shoved a box into my hands and bang went the door.

Okay then. I slipped the box into my jean’s pocket and walked away, my senses on high alert. What was going on? Why hadn’t she wanted to talk with me, and what was in the box? I’d bet a million dollars it wasn’t jewelry.

From the corner of my eye, I saw movement. I stopped and turned, unwilling to let someone shadow me. I could always hop a quick hook home if I had to. Until then, I was going to find out who was there. Hands on hips, I said, “You need to go back to ninja school.” I heard the scuff of a shoe behind me and I had a bubble in place before anyone could throw magic at me. Someone cursed.

After a short argument held in furious whispers, two women stepped from behind a shaggy oak tree across the street. Two more popped up behind a bush, and a man slunk to the middle of the street from a shadowed yard. A tall woman with greying hair addressed me. “I am Kenda, Anforsa of the Council.”

For one wild moment, I so dearly wanted to say, “I am Xena, Warrior Princess.” Gulping back the sudden desire to giggle, I dug my fingernails into my palm, hoping to quell my laughter. “Yeah, okay.”

“What is your business here?” She leaned in, frowning. “What are you? I see human. Skriven. Chythraul. Fleshcrawler. Wild magic.”

Murmurs ran through her group.

“Yes,” I said. I could claim all those, though the wild magic part was interesting. Could she see it on me because of the time I’d spent with Kroshtuka, or some other reason?

“Let down your protection. It’s against our laws to put up a barrier against members of the Council.”

“Lady, you guys were the ones lurking around, hiding behind bushes. For all I knew, you were going to jump me. You can take your law, and shove it where the sun don’t shine.”

My lack of kowtowing—or perhaps my lack of fear—caused hard, flat lines to punctuate her mouth. “You are in violation of Council Law. All who walk our streets must register with the Council and declare their intentions.”

I wondered if ‘I intend to do whatever I damn well please,’ would go over well, and decided it would not. “Okay. So how do I go about,” I waved my hand, “registering. Or whatever.”

“You have violated our laws and must appear before the Council to answer for your crimes.”

“Oh really. And what crimes are those? Besides daring to walk around on your hallowed streets.” If this conversation didn’t get better in five seconds, I was so making a hook and getting the hell out of there.

If anything, she stiffened up more, until I worried she might be going through rigor mortis. “Our streets aren’t hallowed. But our laws are in place for a reason. We don’t allow Skriven to abide in our cities, for one.”

“Technically I’m not a Skriven.” I was an Originator. And not a real one, at that. “I’m just a human with a little something extra.”

“Humans don’t survive on our world,” she said in gotcha tones.

“They do if given domar berries.”

“Those berries are grown in wild magic, and therefore, aren’t to be trusted.” She shifted, and I tensed, but she didn’t offer to toss any magic my way. Her jaw worked as if she were tamping down her anger or biting back some naughty words. When she had herself under control, she said, “Perhaps we should take a different path. What business do you have here?”

My first instinct was to say, “Nunya business,” but I held my tongue. After all, was my presence here a secret? Was I doing something they shouldn’t know about? I really didn’t think I was. All that I’d done on their world so far had been to save my ass or someone else’s. I hadn’t harmed anyone who hadn’t needed it and I was pretty sure I hadn’t broken any laws. Well, that wasn’t true. I’d used Skriven magic, which I knew they were opposed t, and I had broken Arsinua out of witch jail. But otherwise ... “I’m trying to find more information about something called a Rider. A friend of mine has been put into a coma because of it, and I think he’s infected as well.” I didn’t mention my own stowaway, not wanting them to flip out and go all code-red outbreak on me.

Murmuring from the witches around me. “A Rider? But that’s impossible.”

“Trust me. Nothing’s impossible. Can you tell me more about it?”

Another witch spoke up, her voice nasally and pitched too high. “The Riders were quarantined on Ketwer Island in the Wastes a millennium ago.”

“Silence, Zansha.” Kenda looked back at me. “She’s correct. The last of the Riders were long since banished and contained.”

“All I know is, one of those things is inside someone that hates me. And it left potential in my—” I quickly diverted that sentence, having been about to say ‘my head,’ “friend’s head.”

“Potential?”

“Yeah. If I don’t kill the host, Patient Zero, then that potential becomes a Rider. Bam. It spreads. And who knows how many other people have been infected. This thing can spread itself through Dreams. With a capitol D.”

Her face grave, she shook out her hands and tucked them into her pockets. “If that’s the case, then it will do us witches a great service indeed.”

“Excuse me? Are you saying that you won’t do anything to stop it because it’s killing Wydlings?”

She didn’t deign to answer me and instead said, “I ask that you present yourself for questioning at the Council Hall as soon as possible. And I thank you for bringing this matter to our attention.”

“Wait. Can you tell me more about it? What it takes to kill it? What it looks like?”

A slight smile tugged at a corner of her mouth. “I could. But I don’t discuss such matters with those who do not abide by our laws. You want answers? Visit the Council Hall.” She gestured toward the group and they left me alone in my bubble on the street.

 

***

 

I opened the jewelry box when I was safely home, my clothes off and in the hamper. Inside was a blue crystal wrapped in wire and hanging from a dark blue cord. It was pretty, but nothing mysterious or otherworldly. Certainly not the folded note I’d been expecting. I took the box apart, just in case she’d hidden something under the lining, but there wasn’t anything there.

“Okay. Surely you wouldn’t have given this to me for no reason.” I held the crystal up to the lamplight and it threw shadows against the wall. I squinted at the pendant, wondering if there was microscopic writing etched on its surface, and as I studied it, I caught movement out of the corner of my eye. Shadows were dancing across the walls, moving in ways normal shadows didn’t move.

I sat up and when I did, the necklace dropped away from the light and the shadows vanished. Excited, I hooked the necklace over the lamp. The shadows returned and a narrative started up in my head. “I must be brief. The necklace is an imperfect method of sending messages. The Council knows I gave you the assassin’s ring and they have been hounding me for more information ever since. Do not go to the Hall if they want to question you, unless you want to spend the rest of your life being picked apart and studied. Devany? The Anforsa isn’t a kind woman and she’s not to be trusted.” A pause. “I must be brief. The necklace is an imper—”

I lifted the necklace from the lamp and put it over my head to join Krosh’s ring. So they wanted to pick me apart and study me, huh? If the Anforsa or the Witch Council thought they were going to get their hands on me, they were delusional. Even without Marantha’s warning, I would have steered clear.

Still, it sucked that I didn’t have access to my friend and her knowledge of her city and the goings on there. She might have had more information about the Riders too, but I was out of luck now. I needed to find someone else to ask, and fast.

 

***

 

Since I couldn’t sleep, I made another list. This one had ‘Kill Rider’ at the top. ‘Ask Arsinua to tutor Bethy,’ next. If my daughter could work magic, I wanted her to learn how to do it the right way. My way often led to me getting drained and I didn’t want her to die because she didn’t know what she was doing. I wrote down, ‘Check on Krosh and Danni.’

I glanced at the clock and groaned. Too early to bother Danni, so I got up to dress and hook to the Dream Caves, when I heard a click of rocks against my window. Um. I was too old for suitors. Seriously. I went to the window and saw Tytan standing below. It must have been cold, because steam rose from his mouth as he stood looking up at my house. When he saw me, he held out his arms and said something I couldn’t hear.

BOOK: Demon's Cradle (Devany Miller Book 3)
6.61Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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