My return to the graveyard was heralded by a leaning tombstone tumbling into a pile of rubble at my feet. Oros and La Salle were still within the confines of her small tent, and try though I might I found myself unable to hear the conversation they had promised to have while I was away. The tent flap was fastened with a jeweled clasp bearing dark gemstones that seemed to draw the shadows to them before reflecting them out into the world. Such a trinket had to belong to La Salle; it was the type of bauble a lady would use to pin up her long hair – hair such as hers. The message was clear that she wished to be undisturbed, but every moment I hesitated to complete my task was one more moment that Oros would claim against me, and one more insult I didn’t wish to hear.
A gruff sound to my side alerted me to the presence of another man I hadn’t seen before; a simple man wearing farmer’s garb that had cleared his throat. At first I mistook him for a farmer in truth, but at his feet chattered a creature just like the one that Oros had summoned within the safety of the Lamb. He smiled down at me and brought his fingers to his brow in a casual salute. “Dane Winslow, miss – I’m the demon trainer for Lady Drusilla. Beg your pardon, but I don’t think they planned for your arrival this soon. You did a fast job, faster than most who come this way manage.”
Take that, Oros! I thought to myself, gratified.
He sensed my thoughts and laughed as he watched me, his eyes gentle. “That one works you hard, doesn’t he? I don’t need to ask. He was a tough one when Dru found him – all refusal and disinterest. Sometimes I wonder why he even agreed to take her trial. He did though, and he did it just as fast as you did. Though I hear reports that say he did it deadlier too.”
A chill ran down my spine at his words. Oros had accepted the very same trial I had? I had been right to fear what Oros might have done in my shoes! “I had to take down three of them. They didn’t give me a choice.”
The kind smile never faded. “Of course you did. Those scoundrels are no smarter than they are handsome, but they’re dedicated. If you didn’t have the strength to face them, knowing what you would have to do, you wouldn’t have the courage to go on learning what Dru teaches. As her demon trainer, I’ve seen many a novice turn and flee.” Then he sighed, leaning back against the wall of the Cathedral. “Your Master Oros, however, thought it would be a good idea to teach them all a lesson. Ten Defias died when two or three should have. Practice, he called it. The Defias have had their guard up ever since.”
I licked my lips, which had gone dry as he spoke. For someone as calm and collected as he demanded he should be, it didn’t sound like his usual behavior. Perhaps he had lost his temper with the Defias, as he had with me? Oros was strong, of that I had no doubt, and I had witnessed his anger firsthand. Had I been even closer to death than I realized? I found my voice enough to respond to Winslow. “I see – though he passed despite his overzealousness.”
“That he did, miss. That he did. I just wonder if it was the right thing to do, letting him pass despite Dru knowing his heart.”
At that moment a sudden shriek cut through the air that sounded as if it had come from the direction of the tent. Frowning, I felt every muscle in my body tense at once. Was Oros doing something to La Salle now, as punishment for her earlier comments against his foolishness? Even if he was, what could my limited power, taught to me by Oros himself, do in turn to stop him? The poor woman had done what he had demanded of her, to teach me and test me in his place, and she would pay the ultimate price for her kindness and acceptance. It made me furious beyond compare.
I heard the demon trainer’s voice behind me saying something, but the rush of adrenaline left his words as nonsense to my ears. I stalked toward the tent, unwilling to maintain the secrecy I had allowed them to keep in my innocence any longer. If Oros was willing to treat his former teacher and friend in such a manner, what was he plotting to do to me, his new apprentice? I reached the tent flap, grabbed for the jeweled hairpin and pulled without warning, jerking the tent flap open with limited ceremony.
The sight inside was not what I had expected to see at all, or even wanted to see – nor did I want to see it again after it was over and the tent flap was secured once more. My face crimson with embarrassment, I left the startled gasps and distracted shouts behind me and fled in the direction of the exit to the graveyard.
Handsome enough to be sure – but it looks like I don’t have to worry about being his plaything now!
Winslow appeared at my elbow as I fumbled with the latch on the gate to the graveyard. “I don’t think you should leave, miss, at least not now. You’ve given them a reason to stop, after all.”
I found myself staring at his chest and not his face; it would be impossible to meet anyone’s gaze for hours in my state! “I gather I’m…the last to know about this?”
He looked sheepish. “I tried to warn you, but you were already halfway there. I couldn’t have stopped you even if I wanted to.” Sensing that humiliation had sealed my wish to speak, he added, “The relationship isn’t a true one, apprentice. I would have you know that before you know anything else about the two of them. I had hoped Oros himself would have warned you, but perhaps he is too lost in the lie, just as she is.”
As if I cared what Oros did in his spare time! However, knowing more about my master couldn’t hurt if it prevented more situations like this one from happening. “Let’s hear it – it can’t be any worse than what I just saw back there, after all.”
His smile turned bitter, an expression that looked uncomfortable on his face. “There are some who say Oros has the ability to seduce those he chooses with his power. He is an impressive man to most people; I am sure you have noticed.” I nodded, and he took a deep breath. “At the very least he has done so to Drusilla, my greatest friend and dearest companion. Ever since the day she knew him for a true Warlock and announced his advancement past her trial, she has ingratiated herself to him. He is the teacher now, and she the student, or so you would believe from the behavior she plies against him. She is no more than a common born child in the arms of a lover when she lies with him; her power is not what it should be, or could be on her own.”
With a sigh he shook his head. “That man has power beyond what we as Warlocks know. I don’t claim he uses it for personal gain, I have never seen him do this with anyone he requires standing with or needs to impress, but he does know his strength. For whatever reason, he allows her to let down her guard with him. Why he does so is anyone’s guess. Drusilla, of course, knows none of this, and believes he is in love with her. Attempts to tell her otherwise have been rejected in a quite violent fashion.” He rubbed his cheek, where I could indeed see the faint remnants of a handprint. Had he attempted to interrupt before I had? “I want you to be on your guard, apprentice of Oros. Know that he has this power, and hold yourself back from it. The last thing I wish is for you to lose your will to be greater than he is.”
The man had just finished speaking when a further unkempt and bedraggled La Salle emerged from the tent, her hair in tangles and her pale skin flushed with embarrassment. Oros followed soon after, looking much as he always did. Even in the midst of passion he was a stone, it would seem! I felt his gaze bear down on me, but I couldn’t manage to greet him – every greeting I could think of, when laid against the actions I had witnessed, would seem crude or sarcastic. I could use this knowledge against him, I realized in my panic, to take him down a rank or two, but somehow the understanding that he would not take such attempts without anger silenced my urge to wave them in his face. He had not, despite my fears, harmed La Salle, but that did not mean his tolerance for personal insults had grown either.
The demon trainer was quicker on his feet than I was. “Lady Drusilla, Master Oros; your apprentice has completed her task, it seems. You’ve picked a good one.” To Oros he added, “Just as fast as you were, I believe. She has learned well.”
La Salle cleared her throat. “Indeed – thank you for greeting her, Master Winslow. You have done well, Maleva. The book, if you please?”
Her palm reached out to accept the book, and the first thought that flashed through my mind was in regard to where that hand had just been. Furious at my inner sarcasm and embarrassment, I set my jaw and handed over the tome in all its mold covered glory. “Here is your copy of Powers of the Void, as requested. A bit the worse for wear I’m afraid, but the ability to remove mold from book covers is not part of my learning at this time.”
She laughed at that, some of her anxiety dispelled by the shift in subject. Had she been worried about how I would view her beyond this moment? If that were the case, perhaps she knew and understood more of the game that Oros played than Winslow led me to believe. Those who believed beyond a shadow of a doubt in something never questioned or considered what others would think of them for doing so; that much, Oros had taught me well. “Don’t worry about that. I’ll clean her up once you and Master Oros have departed. This, I might add, can happen as soon as I’ve repaid you for the tome.”
A moment passed as La Salle drew herself up to her fullest imposing height. A veil of shadow passed over her body as she murmured a handful of words in a tongue I could not comprehend. No longer was she the embarrassed and nervous woman I had caught in the act of passion; she was garbed in the seamless armor of her erudite soul once again. The sight of it reminded me of why I had come in the first place; to learn something that Oros could not or would not teach me on his own. What gift did she plan to impart on me for the murders I had committed, and would it be worth it after all?
The veil of shadow parted, shifting without effort and sliding into place around my body with each word of the chant. Once it surrounded me and had enveloped me from head to toe, she spoke one final word. The word sent a shiver of unknown origin throughout my body, leaving me with a slight headache and a racing heart; the tingling sensation of power and growth invaded my veins and passed within a moment. Its passing heralded the dissipation of the shadowy veil as well, and I stood facing La Salle again, feeling somewhat cheated by the fact that I felt no different overall. Had the magic rejected me?
“You’re all set, Maleva. Now you have a friend to aid you in future. Keep him close, mind you – simple servitude is not his strong point.” La Salle smiled. “The imp is one of the more frustrating denizens of the netherworld, but he is also rather useful when he chooses to be.”
Realization began to set in at her words. Oros had shown me the signs necessary to summon demons a thousand times before. I had studied their execution and form alone, every night when he returned me unnoticed to my home. It was this moment he had prepared me for, and the time to use that knowledge, it seemed, was upon me. The manifestation of my new status as demon summoner was not physical; it lay within me, and the sole method of bringing it into the open was to summon a demon of my own.
***
The demon breed known as the imp was the same as the creature I had met at the feet of both Oros and Winslow. According to Oros, there were two ways to command a demon. The first involved sheer force of will bent into domination, producing an enemy enslaved, not an ally to be trusted. The other method involved grudging respect, and was far more difficult to attain from a being that would be no willing participant in this world. However, if I could avoid the former, I would. The way to attain the control I wanted would not be through the sacrifice of another’s freedom; it would defeat my own purpose in life to place another into my shoes, even one as insignificant as a demon. My imp would have to respect me – but I would also have to respect him as well. A partnership this would be, above all else.
Taking a deep breath, I found the courage at last to look at Oros. The corners of his mouth twitched with a suppressed smile; could he be proud of my accomplishments? It was too much to hope for, but drawing on the power within that smile and all that lay behind it, I steadied myself and began the sequence of hand signs that would lead to my first portal into the netherworld – my first summoning. Let Oros think what he would at that! I had surpassed even my own meager hope for success, and that was more than enough for me.
At the last practiced movement of my fingers, a wide tunnel of shadow flared up from my body and out into the graveyard. Within moments, a glowing figure no taller than my shin had replaced it.
The imp was small for its kind, featuring the beady eyes that all imps seemed to share. It peered up at me, its dark eyes sharp and wicked, with an intellect borne of another time and place. The hazy yellow fog that resonated from its twisted body proved warm to the touch as it reached my senses, and the smell that accompanied it was not unlike a wet dog. It opened its mouth to speak in the same scratchy and sarcastic voice that I had heard from Oros’ demon, its forked tongue slithering to a tune that only it could hear. When words at last formed, all of my prior awe faded instead to weariness and frustration that added itself to the store I had already earned from the long and challenging afternoon.
“I got up for this?”
Respect, it seemed, was the order of the day, and it would have to be earned indeed! The guffaw that echoed from Oros behind me just served to make the lesson that much more solid! Meeting the imp’s gaze, I bowed my head in simple respect. “You did indeed. Welcome to my world, handsome. It’s not much compared to yours, but it smells a lot better, I’d wager.”
The creature chortled, but still maintained a distance from me, as if sensing my will to befriend it and disliking the notion. “You must be the kind of girl my mother warned me about.”
“That I am, and worse. Do you want to know who I am?” I took a deep breath. “I am a coward. I’ve been running away from my family, my name and my duty for longer than I care to admit. I am innocent. The world outside the walls of my keep is new and strange to me. I am angry. I vow to protect others from suffering the sorrows that I have borne in my young life. I am alone. Those who kept me alive have passed from this world into yours. I am…pathetic. However – through all that, I am willing. I am willing to understand your world, and the powers that rule it. I am willing to risk every small blessing that I have to find the power that my teacher has promised me. I am willing to grow. To do that, however, I require your aid, demon from the netherworld. My name is Maleva – Maleva Greymourne.”
It was a sea of admittance that left me trembling inside. I had not even been so open with Oros, that night in the Lamb. He might have seen the tears of grief spent from the loss of my sister, but never had he heard the depth of my will voiced to an outsider. Somehow it was easy to talk to this being from the netherworld; what could it know of human sorrow or failure? To my chagrin I had forgotten that Oros and La Salle were still present, watching the exchange with curious eyes. They knew of my weaknesses already; why did they care to hear about them again? Turning my back to them in an attempt to shelter the small field of privacy that the imp shared with me, I studied it and waited, my own curiosity intermingled with hope that it would understand, and agree.
It considered my words, its head cocked at a strange angle to study facets of me that I could not comprehend. At last it nodded, its head bounding up and down with the same quick and careless movements that seemed to be another common trait of imps. “You’ll do. Just don’t expect me to do all your fighting for you. You’re the student here – I’m just on vacation.” It sidled up to me, a gnarled hand offered in greeting. “You humans can’t manage to speak our language, so I’ll make it simple for you; I’m Yazham.”
La Salle placed a hand on my shoulder from behind. “The bonding between demon and master often takes weeks. Don’t think that he’ll make it easy on you. Acceptance is not obedience.” I didn’t need to see her face to sense the glare she had aimed at the demon. “These gifts from the netherworld are useful indeed, but beware their sense of humor.”
Yazham laughed, a grating sound echoing from somewhere deep in his throat. “Is that any way to speak to me? I have phenomenal cosmic powers, lady!”
She snorted, removing her hand and retreating to stand near Oros again. “Good luck, Maleva. You’ll need it with this one.”
I didn’t hear what she whispered to Oros in turn, but the grin on his face suggested that a likeness had been made to my own temperament. I chose to ignore it until later – Oros still had punishment left to suffer for his earlier ignorance of my requests! Nodding to Yazham, who seemed to be growing impatient for some action, I bowed my head to La Salle. “Thank you for the lesson. We should leave you to your reading.”
Her wistful smile was for Oros, not for me. “Indeed. I hope to see you again, but if I don’t, I trust your learning will grow as you do – in leaps and bounds. You will be a credit to your teacher, and to me as well.”
Embarrassed by the praise, I followed after Oros, who was making his way toward the graveyard’s exit without a word in parting to La Salle. I couldn’t understand why a partnership as close as theirs would be as easily forgotten, but the words of Dane Winslow echoed in my head. Perhaps it was as he had claimed; they were not true lovers, and thus could not express the kind of grief that would accompany most partings. Perhaps Oros, as cold as he was, didn’t believe in goodbyes at all. Perhaps there was something I didn’t know. It just further served to place a growing distaste in my heart for the kind of relationship they practiced. In the end, what good was companionship without trust and respect? Even the demon at my feet, trailing along behind me in the forest clearing, had understood that simple law of life.
I made a solemn promise to myself as we left the forests of Elwynn and returned once again to my home, the setting sun behind us. The loss of my sister had been so agonizing because I had been so close to her; but in the end, that closeness was what I desired to have again more than ever. Perhaps the demon could fill the void in my heart with his training, or perhaps the new power that I was attaining, little by little, would do it instead. One thing was clear; should I ever find a human being to replace the love that my sister had given me, I would not shy away or remain at arm’s length. That kind of lie was even more cruel than the one I told myself; the lie about how much I hated the only person I had ever loved and lost.