Devdan Manor (7 page)

Uryl nodded. “We are unlikely to find that hall again.”

“There are probably other portraits around,” Nuall said. “Are they?” She turned to Ozais.

He shrugged. “I’ve only ever seen this house from my jar. I only know about the demons trapped here because they’re never quiet.”

“Well, did they talk about portraits of pretty demons?” Cyl asked.

“Them. Those portraits are only there to give the demons here hope they could get out. I’ve heard others talk about them dismissively. No one believe those demons exist. Demons can make themselves beautiful to ensnare humans but our true appearances aren’t appealing.” Ozais searched each of their faces. “Or so I thought until you four came along. Even the little one makes sharp teeth appealing.”

How often had Cyl been accused of transforming his features to make demons like him? No one believed he ever showed his true form. Nuall used to get attacked by male demons until she started killing anyone who touched her. Uryl was the same. He stopped demons with one glare. Older demons had tried attracting Ryse with treats. They learned soon enough that wasn’t a smart move.

Rye yawned. She leaned against Uryl’s arm. How long had they been here? The area they sat in opened to the outside, only darkness sat beyond the glass ceiling. It must be almost morning by now. They had been awake almost all night. Ryse needed to sleep.

“We should find a room to rest for a couple of hours. We’ll put protection spells up and sleep in turns.” Uryl closed the book and shoved it in his bag.

Ryse whined. Uryl chuckled. He only laughed with Ryse.

“You’re too tired to carry two books. I’ll give it back to you when you’ve slept.”

Ryse yawned. “Promise.”

“What would I do with them?”

Cyl didn’t like how he felt. Why wouldn’t Uryl be that nice to him? Why couldn’t his brother smile at him like that?

This was not the time for thoughts like these.

Nuall tried to hide a yawn behind her hand. “We’re safe here. Why can’t we sleep here?”

Uryl shook his head. “I don’t like it. I feel too exposed.”

Cyl didn’t want to move, but the open space made him feel vulnerable.

Nuall’s stomach grumbled. “We didn’t take into account we would be using spells every time we needed to rest or that we’d walk around in shields. We’ll burn through our food faster.”

They hadn’t thought of that. It wasn’t like them.

Cyl’s temples throbbed. Exhaustion dropped on him. He couldn’t process anything else. He wanted everything to stop. He didn’t care about answer. He needed the world to stop. He needed to escape to a place where nothing existed. Where he didn’t have to do anything except be at peace. Was that too much to ask?

Nuall sniffed. “My senses are coming back. Not the best time. All I smell is soul deep exhaustion and hatred.”

They walked. The rooms kept changing. Hot and cold phantom wind caressed Cyl’s face. It brushed the back of his neck. His shield only stopped poisons and attacks meant to break the skin. He could still feel. The wind was like a slap in the face. He was more alert then he wanted to be. It was gone. Exhaustion fell on him harder than before.

He felt pressure on his arm. It moved up. Felt like an insect with sharp legs crawling across his skin. Cyl lifted his tired arm and rolled up his sleeve. His vision blurred. Tiredness attacked his eyes.

Cyl focused. His vision cleared. His flesh dented under the invisible crawling demon. It was in no hurry. Cyl pulled strength from his depths and shot a bolt of electricity through the shield surrounding his arm. The insect left him alone.

They walked. Cyl was at the back. Every so often, the others flinched or jerked a limb for seemingly no reason.

For once, Ozais wasn’t muttering to himself. The knowledge that the wardens were nearby probably sat at the center of his mind. Small favors.

Cyl’s bag weighted like a stone block. So did his legs. The throbbing pain behind his eyes didn’t help. Ryse was lagging behind. He picked her up. He didn’t want to. He had to. Felt like he was carrying three boulders.

“This will do,” Uryl said.

He led them into a room. It had one window. No furniture. Small like a cave. It was easy to create a barrier here. Cyl wanted to lie down and never get up.

Everyone dropped their bags. Ryse grabbed her markers.

She yawned. “I need to draw on the walls only I’m not tall enough.”

Cyl tried not to groan. Uryl and Nuall were busy making their own type of barrier. He’d never hand Ryse over to Ozais. He’d have to carry her.

She drew her circles and symbols on the walls. The strange markings ran away from her protective wards. Up until then, Ryse only drew her wards on the floor. The strange symbols were only on the walls and on some decorations.

Cyl didn’t want to talk. He needed to point this out.

“Take a look at this,” he said.

Uryl, Nuall and Ozais were at his shoulder.

Ozais whistled. “Never saw the marks do that.”

“Let’s finish the barrier. We’ll talk about this when we’ve had some rest.”

Cyl could’ve hugged his brother.

They finished the barrier and spread out in the middle of the floor. They rolled out their sleep mats. They each had extra blankets, which they gave to Ozais to make his own bed.

This felt nice. Sitting. He closed his eyes.

Ryse made a low whining noise as she shifted. She never sounded like that. What could Cyl do to make her feel better?

“There once was a demon,” Uryl said. “Everyone called her odd. They said there was something strange about her.” Cyl opened his eyes. Ryse shifted to face Uryl. “They couldn’t tell her why she was odd. They said she wasn’t normal. No matter what she did, she never felt like she fit in.”

“She loved the library.” Ryse yawned. “She loved books. She’d read about far off places with demons she had never seen before. ‘Maybe I could fit in there.’ She said.”

“She studied,” Uryl continued. “She worked hard to hone her powers. She read as much as she could. Everyone still called her strange. She no longer cared. She would find a place where she didn’t feel alone. The day finally came. She saved enough wealth and supplies. She had more than enough power. She had her destinations plotted. She left.”

Ryse giggled. “Did she find where she belonged?” she said. “What do you think? I think she enjoyed traveling so much, she stayed on the road. She found lands not touched by demons for years. She met lots of new demons and made friends.”

“I think,” Nuall said. “She traveled and learned that being odd wasn’t a bad thing. She returned to her home showed them just how amazing she was. Not everyone fits in. Some demons have to show others they aren’t someone to be played with. They have to show demons that being different isn’t wrong.”

“I think she left her home only to find herself trapped in a wicked house where she met a delightful demon,” Ozais said. “They had fun playing together. The most fun either of them had ever had.”

That was unusually sentimental for Ozais.

Nuall snorted. “Play together. You make them sound like children.”

Uryl had said they would take turns sleeping. That wasn’t happening. Cyl wouldn’t mention it. He wanted to sleep. He didn’t want to watch. The wards and barrier would keep them safe. At least until they had some time to rest.

Dirt, sun, the scent of water. It smelled green. Cyl opened his eyes. Light shot through his temples. He closed his eyes. He was outside. How had he gotten here? He opened his eyes again. He was alone. The forest didn’t look or smell familiar. He was supposed to be somewhere, with someone. Why couldn’t he remember? Red and silver hair flew through his memories. His arms were naked. They shouldn’t have been. He didn’t know why.

A stepped forward. His foot found a soft log. No, it was too small for a log. He stepped back. It was a hand. He knew this hand. It had a thorned line tattooed on the back. The appendage rocked. Cyl recoiled. How could it move on its own? A hole opened under the thumb. A fat worm ate its way out of the hands depth. It slithered out. And, kept going. The monster was about as long as his arm. Its tail wrapped around the hand. Cyl rushed forward, snatching the hand before the worm carried it away. This limb meant something to him. He held it to his chest. What was this anxiety? Why was fear freezing his blood?

A tattered book with strange symbols on the cover sat not far from him. He kicked it open.

The yellow pages were blank. He blinked. Words appeared.

Ryse Antun- dismembered and eaten.

Uryl Antun- burned while trying to save his sister.

Nuall Otav- abandoned her friends.

Cyl Anutn- alone. As he should be.

He remembered.

This was wrong. He had been trapped in that house. How had he gotten out? This had to be wrong. He stepped back. He was holding Ryse’s hand. This was impossible. She was never this cold. The ground moved from under him. His foot slipped. He landed on something wet and soft. He turned his palm over. Blood.

This was wrong. This had to be wrong. He could handle anything, anything as long as he had his family. He couldn’t be alone. They wouldn’t leave him alone.

His power raged. He didn’t need to get it under control anymore. Nothing mattered. His power exploded. It would destroy everything. Destroy evidence, memories.

“Cyl stop.” The voice sounded far away. It was familiar.

“Open your eyes.” The voice was closer.

His eyes were closed. When had he closed them?

“Open your eyes.”

He opened them.

He was in a room. Sun shone through the window. Ryse, Uryl, Ozais and Nuall were huddled in the corner, under a shield. His power lashed at them.

Get it under control. Listen to your master. Stop.

His power calmed. It went back where it belonged. It was quiet again, inside him.

“What…” he asked.

Uryl pointed to the walls. The marks were gone. Ryse’s wards were still there.

He could smell outside. Smell the world. The demons’ fear. They were cowering. He smelled intense hatred and anger mixed with hope coming from the belly of this mansion. Hope?

The sun slowly vanished. The markings crept back on the walls.

His legs were on fire. Why? Nothing was there. Why did it feel like he was being lowered into a boiling pot? The burning sensation climbed his legs. His skin should be falling off. It didn’t. Felt like it. His eyes watered. His entire being settled on the pain eating up his legs. His power turned to a raging windstorm inside him. It had gone insane. It rushed away from the burning sensation. His power tried to squeeze behind his chest.

A hand dragged him to his knees. It ripped open his shirt.

“This will hurt,” a voice said.

A blade dug into his skin. It carved into his flesh. The burning in his legs retreated, replaced by a stabbing pain. He ground his teeth.

The blade stopped moving. The wound healed. It left an eye on his chest.

Ryse wiped the blood off on her clothes.

“Are you alright?” he asked. He couldn’t smell a wound.

“Not my blood.”

She had carved open his chest.

“What happened?”