“What does that mean?”
“We are Ahn’an, composed of Mikayal and Rheina. We cannot sense the power of Nihko.”
“So, someone wielding the power of Nihko opened them? You mean a demon.”
“Most likely, but the Daem’Ahn cannot leave their realm alone. They must be invited into this one by a host. This one is close.”
“A possession. How can we determine who is possessed?”
“The Ahn’tep are composed of all three of the Ahn. You, the humans and other creatures of this realm, are Ahn’tep. They have this power, some more than others.”
“The Sen,” said Rezkin.
Malcius tilted his head. “The Blessed of Nihko have more than most.”
“Not all humans are Sen, though. Can others sense the demons? The mages, perhaps?”
Malcius shrugged. “Theoretically, yes. We do not know human spells. We cannot help you with this.” He glanced at the others. “It is the reason we made the deal. You are supposed to provide the army.”
“These are the other Ancients?” said Rezkin, glancing at the others who watched him intently. Malcius nodded toward each of them. “Hvelia,” he said of the debris strewn wind. “Uspiul—” indicating the humanoid figure made of infinitely flowing water. “Liti and Itli, you have met,” he said of the little fire dancers Rezkin had first seen inside a Caellian crystal. “The large one is Goragana,” Malcius said, looking toward the towering rock giant.
Rezkin bowed to each of them. “I am honored.” He turned back to Bilior. “I have amassed the armies of two kingdoms, but if the threat is as great as you believe, it will not be enough.”
“They come,” Malcius said before his form began to melt. “Our deal is almost complete. We wait. Call should you need the power”—Bilior crouched and bobbed up and down—“power of life, earth, wind, and fire. In thoughts and senses, a focused sign.”
Goragana groaned as he stepped away from the entrance. Rezkin looked at the Ancients one more time before stepping back into the night. When he emerged, he was standing at the edge of his camp exactly where he had left.
Malcius turned to him. “This is not fair, Rez. You know the others will blame me when they cannot find you, and I must tell them that you left.”
Rezkin glanced at the campsite where everything appeared calm. “No one noticed my absence?”
“Oh no, you came up with a good enough excuse. Using my predicament with Yserria was a low blow.” He huffed. “How long do you intend to be gone?”
“What are you talking about? I have just returned.”
“You jest? Perhaps you should be the fool and not the emperor.”
Rezkin tilted his head to peer at the sky. It appeared that no time had passed since he left the camp. He said, “Is that how you speak to an emperor? I think you do not take my position seriously.”
Malcius shook his head. “Probably more than you. You rack up titles and act like it is just another day. I think you would rather I speak to you honestly than stand on formality”
Rezkin grinned at him. “You are beginning to understand. Married life is having a profound effect on you.” Rezkin strolled back into the camp with Malcius on his heels.
“That is not funny, Rez. You, the jester. What has gotten in to you?”
“Outworlders often jest,” he said. “I believe it is a way to form personal bonds. If you truly do not appreciate it, I will cease the attempt.”
Malcius glanced at him and sighed. “No, it is better than being serious all the time. You are an emperor. Someone with such great power should have a sense of humor.”
Rezkin tilted his head. “Then, I shall continue my pursuit of the art.” He turned toward his tent as he said, “Perhaps you should, too.”
Malcius’s head jerked toward Rezkin. “Wha—Hey!”
Rezkin entered his tent then slipped out the gap in the back. Farson was standing there with a scowl. “What?”
“You disappeared.”
“You followed us.”
“Yes,” said Farson. “I am not an idiot. You have no interest in Malcius’s marital status. Where did you go?”
“To the edge of camp. I was with Malcius.”
Farson shook his head. “I mean when you disappeared.”
Rezkin looked at him curiously. Had Farson somehow detected his passage? He said, “What are you talking about?”
“You told Malcius you were going to leave. Malcius turned around to throw a tantrum, and you started walking through the field. Then, you vanished—completely vanished. Next thing I know, you are standing right in front of Malcius again. Where did you go, and how did you get there?”
“You are mistaken. It was a trick of the light. Your eyes were confused by the dark.”
“Does this have to do with the cat?”
“The cat?”
“Yes, the cat that shows up before a demon attack.”
Rezkin paused to consider. He decided that it was probably best to alert someone else to the danger. “Perhaps. I have reason to believe one or more demons or otherworldly creatures could be near.”
“I will not ask why you know that since you are obviously averse to sharing. How do we know who the demon is?”
“I do not know, yet. It would be best to discuss it with Journeyman Wesson.”
“What if he is the demon?”
“Then, it would probably be a moot point, considering his level of power. Keep your eyes open for suspicious activity.”
Farson looked at him with incredulity. “Have you seen our convoy?”
Chapter 20
Tam pulled at the long, green stalk, but when it would not budge, he began digging the root out of the soil with his fingers. He brushed the dirt from it as best he could and then picked up a rock and began smashing and grinding it into another rock. He worked quickly as he knew they were out of time. He grabbed the stack of assorted leaves he had gathered and crumbled them into the root paste.
“I should boil this,” he said, “but we don’t have time, or water, or a fire.”
“You think that will work? Where did you learn it?” said Uthey.
Tam glanced over his shoulder, pausing to listen for danger. Hearing nothing suspicious, he went back to grinding. Once everything was mixed together, he scooped up a glob and smeared it into the bite wound on Uthey’s arm. Then, he moved on to the man’s leg. Finally, he said, “From a master healer of the mundane.”
Uthey chuckled. “Was he a king, too?”
“The same. I mean, he wasn’t king at the time. He was just a traveler we met in a tavern. I didn’t think I was paying attention when he talked about plants, but”—he pointed to his head—“it’s this hole. I’m remembering things that happened long ago as if they happened yesterday.”
“Hmm, a remedy invented by a tumor. This stuff’ll probably kill me.”
Tam felt the man’s fevered skin. “You’ll die anyway.”
“Good to know,” said Uthey.
When he was done applying the paste, Tam scraped the remainder onto a large leaf and folded it over to fit in his pocket. Then, he smeared the rock with fresh deer dung, turned it over, and buried it.
“Why did you do that?”
“To throw them off if they have dogs. They’ll track the scent.”
“Good thinking, but I don’t think anyone’s coming after us. It’s been … I don’t know … days, weeks? Probably most of them were killed in the attack. The rest will have sought help or gone to the quarry.”
“Someone is coming. Can’t you feel it?” said Tam. His gaze darted about then he looked back at Uthey with urgency. “It’s in the wind. It sounds different.”
“You’re bleeding again,” said Uthey.
Tam absently wiped his nose and then realized he had used the hand smeared in dung. He glanced up again. The wind had changed. It hummed in synchrony with the pounding in his head. “We have to go,” he said.