With the archmagus temporarily out of commission, Carnades was in charge and he wasn’t about to let anyone forget it, starting with me—especially after that incident last week in the Conclave’s library. He called it assault; I called it entirely justified self-defense.
“Ma’am,” came Vegard’s tense warning from beside me.
“Thank you, Vegard. I see him.”
“I know you see him. That’s the problem.”
“I’ll behave if he does.”
“He won’t.”
“Then there’s going to be a problem.”
Vegard came to reluctant attention. He had to. The Guardians’ main duty was the protection of the archmagus and the mages of the Seat of Twelve. That included Carnades Silvanus.
Carnades crossed the room to me. He was as tall as Mychael, which put the top of my head level with his jaw. The elf mage had always looked down on me—in more ways than one.
Those arctic eyes gazed over my head and leisurely surveyed the squad room, taking in the accused perpetrators, the cells, and lastly the demons, who interestingly enough were crowded against the front of their cell looking at Carnades like he was some kind of new snack.
Finally Carnades’s eyes came to rest on me. “Mistress Benares,” he murmured, “how appropriate that I should find you in such surroundings.”
I didn’t take the bait. He’d have to do way better than that to get a reaction out of me.
I actually smiled at him. “Magus Silvanus, I don’t believe you’ve met my cousin Captain Phaelan Benares.” My tone was graciousness itself. Since I knew Phaelan was going to get into this, I figured I might as well introduce him to the man he’d probably be trying to stab within the next minute.
Phaelan stepped forward and smiled, baring all of his teeth. My cousin didn’t offer his hand, and wisely, Carnades kept his to himself.
Phaelan spoke. “It’s a pleasure to finally meet the man I’ve heard so many things about.” From the feral glint in my cousin’s dark eyes, the pleasure he referred to involved visualizing Carnades with a Benares blade sticking out of his back.
Carnades glanced over Phaelan’s shoulder at the bulletin board—and the wanted posters. “It is reassuring to see that our city watch’s artist created such an accurate rendering. The resemblance is truly uncanny.”
I felt Sedge Rinker standing at my right shoulder. “Magus Silvanus, would you like to step into my office? You and your guests would be more comfortable there while you wait to speak to Paladin Eiliesor.”
“Ah, yes. Where is our good paladin?”
An enraged demonic roar from the interrogation room answered that question.
“Questioning one of Professor Berel’s attackers,” Sedge clarified. “He will be finished shortly. If you would like to wait in—”
“No, I would not like to wait, Chief Rinker. I do not wish to wait in your office, nor will I wait for Paladin Eiliesor.”
Carnades looked down at me and I met his stare. He’d have to blink first, because I sure as hell wasn’t going to.
“What I came for is right here,” he said softly. “At least one of them. Where is Piaras Rivalin?” His lip curled back in distaste. “And the other one?”
I made a show of looking around. “It doesn’t look like they’re here. So you brought your audience all the way down here for little old me. I hope they’re not too disappointed.”
“Hardly. Since we won’t be leaving empty-handed.” He glanced over at the cell containing the wine bottle and its demonic contents. “Only the blackest of magic could have subdued a Volghul. I knew you were in league with dark forces, but I now have irrefutable proof that Piaras Rivalin has been tainted by your influence.”
I clenched my hands at my side. It was the only way I’d keep them away from Carnades’s throat. “Maestro Cayle is teaching Piaras to battle ‘dark forces’ as part of his lessons. I can hardly believe you never smacked a demon around for fun in your younger days.”
“Piaras Rivalin should take care who he accepts assistance from,” Carnades said in the barest whisper. “The half-breed he is associating with is tainted not only by mixed blood but by parentage. Though considering who its father is, it can hardly be blamed.”
Carnades had sneered the words “its father.” Those two words carried a whole world of insult. I considered punching Carnades’s lights out. But we were in watcher headquarters, not the best place for punching lights or anything else. There were too many empty cells around here. I didn’t want to be in any of them. I was sure I’d get another shot at Carnades. I was just lucky that way.
I put a hand on Phaelan’s arm. I knew which dagger he was going for. Carnades saw and smiled slowly.
“By all means, Captain Benares. Give me an excuse to take you as well.”
I took a step forward, leaving scant inches between the elven mage and me. I had to look up to meet his eyes, but that was fine with me. Carnades could have reached out and touched me. I wanted him to. I also wanted him to remember what I’d done the last time he’d made the mistake of touching and threatening me. I’d do it again, and this time I’d have a squad room full of watchers as witnesses.
He knew it and kept his hands to himself, but he didn’t back down. I knew he wouldn’t. That was fine with me, too.
“Paladin Eiliesor is questioning the demons; I merely want to question their accomplice,” Carnades said loudly enough for everyone to hear. “The dark mage who used her Saghred-spawned power to open a Hellgate, releasing her demonic minions to do her dirty work. Though I can’t imagine anything being beneath a Benares.”
I laughed. I couldn’t help myself. “Minions? I’d ask if you’re serious, but no doubt you believe that you are.”
Silvanus’s pale eyes glittered. “You are a danger to everyone on this island. I’ve said that you should be locked up—and today I’m here to see it done.” The elven mage smiled. “On the authority of the Seat of Twelve, you’re under arrest for practicing black magic and consorting with demons.”
Carnades’s pronouncement lost some of its effect when a man shouted in fear and surprise from a back room, then swore in utter disgust. It took me a moment to realize the man’s disgust wasn’t a reaction to Carnades’s speech.
A watcher came through a door in the back of the room dangling something by a bony, yellow foot. It was about a foot long, mostly arms and legs, with a round torso that kind of merged into a head. No neck. It was naked, it was hairless, it was wrinkled, and it had to be the ugliest thing I’d ever seen in my life. And it smelled like—
“It jumped out of the latrine!” The watcher looked like he was about to be sick.
Yep, that was the smell.
“Damn,” breathed Phaelan from beside me.
I couldn’t have agreed more, especially considering that the thing was still dripping. And it looked just a wee bit larger.
I looked closer. “Am I imagining things, or . . .”
The watcher who was dangling the thing by its heel grunted at the abrupt increase in weight. The thing twisted and squirmed, and since it was still wet, the watcher couldn’t hold on, and I didn’t think he wanted to. The yellow beastie hit the floor and scuttled under the nearest desk. Around the room, weapons were drawn, my own included. Phaelan had drawn steel and jumped on a chair. Carnades retreated to where his mage cronies waited.
“Cowards,” I muttered.
“Cautious,” Phaelan corrected me. “Do you know how much these clothes cost? No way in hell that thing’s getting near me.”
Considering where it’d come from, I didn’t exactly want it rubbing against me, either. Some smells just didn’t come out.
The wood the desk was made of creaked and then groaned. That was not good. Then the desk’s legs rose about eight inches off of the floor, lifted by something underneath. Something yellow, stinky, and growing entirely too fast.
That was very bad.
Most of the watchers did their duty and stood their ground; other watchers took the duty-be-damned approach and started backing away. I wasn’t a watcher, I had no duty, but I stood my ground anyway. Sedge Rinker stepped up beside Vegard and me.
Sedge kept his voice down. “Ma’am, you and your cousin might want to take advantage of this to leave.”
“Finally, a lawman I can agree with,” Phaelan muttered.
The growing demon stood up, and then up some more. The damned thing was so big it was wearing the desk like a hat. Then it turned around, facing us. Its eyes were black, beady, and really, really angry. With a single shake of its head, the desk went flying, splintering against a wall.
Professional discipline was pretty much gone at that point.
The interrogation room opened, one of Sora’s grad students looked, saw, squeaked, and slammed the door.
Smart kid.
Those angry demon eyes looked directly at me. And got even angrier. Then it growled, rattling the windows.
I shouted over my shoulder. I sure as hell wasn’t turning my back on that. “Carnades, if you want to haul me out of here, I think you’re gonna have to get in line.”
Chapter 6
There were a few heartbeats of stunned inaction; the only sound was the wheezing in and out of the demon’s breath like some sort of putrid bellows.
Then he roared—and half the people in the room ran. Half the people included most of the accused perps, some still in handcuffs. The watchers let them go; they had a bigger problem, and it was still growing.
While less people gave the rest of us more room to fight, it gave the demon less targets to hit and a greater probability of hitting those targets, namely us.
“You still curious about demons?” Phaelan asked me.
“Not anymore.”
“Too bad you didn’t decide that five minutes ago.”
We had bladed weapons; the demon preferred blunt objects, like office furniture.
