Shadowed by Demons, Book 3 of the Death Wizard Chronicles (8 page)

FOR THE FIRST time since he could remember, Lucius was entirely alone. He scanned the room distrustfully. There was one window with a wooden shutter, closed and tightly latched. Two small beds with straw-stuffed mattresses were pressed against the side walls. In the middle of the room stood a wobbly wooden table with a pair of crooked chairs. Another of the foul-smelling oil lamps provided the only light.

Lucius removed the Mogol war club from the belt at his waist and laid it and the
uttara
on one of the beds. He sat down on the other and buried his face in his hands. Though the sight of Jord being blown from the sky still tormented him, the thought of Torg and Laylah alone in the room next door tortured him even more. How could he stand it? How could he not?

Lucius sat there for what felt like a very long time. He was startled when his door swung open without a knock. He looked up, hoping beyond hope it was Laylah come to tell him that it was all a big mistake, and that he was the one she truly loved. But instead of his queen, a feisty woman with short red hair stomped into the room bearing a basin of steaming water that looked far too heavy to carry so easily.

“Don’t look so disappointed. I’m not that ugly.”

“Huh?” was all Lucius could manage.

“Ha! A man of few words. I
love
it. You and I might have a future together! Why waste time talking?”

“Huh?”

“Do you have all your wits? Ah, never mind.” She sprinted merrily out of the room and returned with towels, soap, and a change of clothing.

“These ought to fit you real good,” she said, her dark eyes sparkling. “You are a fine figure of a man. Don’t let anyone tell you otherwise.”

“Thank you,” Lucius muttered.

She exploded with laughter. Then she leaned down, kissed him on the cheek, and sprang from the room, slamming the door behind her.

Lucius sat in stunned silence, trying to digest what had so frenetically occurred.

You are a fine figure of a man
 . . .

Lucius felt a tingling in his groin. The strange woman had somehow changed his mood from sour to sweet. He stood and removed his grimy clothes, then took a long time scrubbing himself with soap and drying himself with a towel. He put on black trousers and boots, a white shirt, and a red waistcoat. Everything fit surprisingly well.

You are a fine figure of a man
 . . .

Now it was almost midnight, but Lucius didn’t feel like sleeping. He was starving and “thirsty,” as dear ol’ Ugga would put it. Lucius opened the door and peeked out. A ways down the hall, he could see a wavering light from a blazing hearth. Some of his companions already had found their way to the parlor, it appeared.

The door to Torg and Laylah’s room remained closed. Lucius felt another stab of jealousy, but just then the woman reappeared and grabbed his hand.

“Come on, slow-poke! What are you waiting for?”

With a surprising display of strength, she dragged him down the hall toward the parlor. Ugga, Bard, Rathburt, and Elu were already there, each drinking from pewter mugs. Though all four had eyes that were red and swollen from their recent upset, they still managed to smile when he joined them, and it warmed his heart. Suddenly he realized that he loved them like brothers.

“Come sit by the fire, Master Loo-Shus, and have something to drink,” Ugga said. “It will help ya to forget your trub-bulls. It’s helping me, at least.”

“Me too,” Bard said.

To Lucius, that sounded like a good idea. He plopped down in one of the cushioned chairs near the hearth and stretched out his legs. Soon after, the flirty woman handed him a mug of ale, which he gulped enthusiastically. Then he studied the others, who were dressed in garb similar to his own. Ugga and Bard wore full-length velvet coats with gold tabs and brass buttons, though the crossbreed’s coat was too small to close around his stomach. Rathburt looked thin and dashing in a waistcoat of green suede. Little Elu had been outfitted in a special suit probably designed for a boy: a blue jacket over a checkered shirt with canvas trousers. Lucius felt as if they were ready for a costume ball.

“I hate to admit it, but you gentlemen are a handsome lot,” he said. “I’m proud to be a member of your party.”

In unison, their jaws dropped. Though Lucius had been much better behaved in recent days, they must have considered this the nicest thing he had ever said to them.

“See, Bard,” Ugga said. “I told ya Master Loo-Shus was a good guy.”

“Ya were right all along,” Bard agreed.

Lucius chuckled. “You kind of rub off on a person, Ugga. Even in times of sorrow, you manage to cheer everyone up. When you’re around, it’s hard not to be nice.”

Elu leapt up from his chair and hugged one of Lucius’ legs. “Elu likes you too. It’s wonderful to have such great friends, who’ll always take good care of each other.”

“Speaking of taking care of each other
 . . .
here comes lovely Bonny with more ale,” Rathburt said. He turned to Lucius. “She may dress like a man, but she’s every bit a woman underneath, I’d surmise.”

“Why, Master Rathburt
 . . .
I didn’t know you were such a charmer,” Bonny said. “But if you are trying to win my heart, it’s too late. I am quite taken by the yellow-haired gentleman. What a looker!”

Rathburt feigned disappointment, but he obviously was amused. Ugga and Bard slapped their knees. Once again, Lucius was speechless; his face turned as red as Bonny’s scarf.

“He doesn’t talk much, does he?” she said.

“Not unless he’s got something to complain about,” Rathburt said ironically. They all laughed, including Lucius.

“I’m sorry, my lady,” Lucius finally managed. “I’ve spent so much time as a soldier, I don’t know how to act around women—especially one as fine as you.”

“Good one, Loo-shus!” Ugga said. “Say something else nicey to her, and ya will be bedding her in no time.”

For the first time, Bonny’s face reddened, which Lucius assumed didn’t happen often. “Oh, my
 . . .
” was all she said, and then she trotted off—but not before glancing back at Lucius and winking.

After she left, the men guzzled more ale and congratulated Lucius on what appeared to be the start of a successful seduction. Even Rathburt got into the act, describing in intimate detail his secrets of how to pleasure a woman in bed. They all laughed, louder and louder. Elu ended up rolling around on the floor, hugging his legs against his chest.

How quickly his friends were able to rebound from tragedy amazed Lucius. The terrible occurrence between Jord and the dragon earlier that evening had failed to dampen their spirits. Perhaps it was the wizard’s doing, for sounding so convincing that Jord would return.

In the midst of the mirth, two more approached—and their appearance stunned them all to silence. Laylah and Torg stood before them. The sorceress was dressed in a long-sleeved blouse of white silk with tight-fitting black trousers and knee-high boots. A crimson sash with gold embroidery and fringes was wrapped around her waist. The wizard wore a black coat with button pockets and cuffs and a pleated back. He also sported black trousers with high boots. A sky-blue scarf was wrapped around his head and tied in the back. The Silver Sword hung at his waist in the scabbard he had obtained in Kamupadana.

As a couple, they were so beautiful it amazed even Lucius. No one seemed able to speak. Finally it fell to Bonny, who was returning with another pitcher of ale, to break the silence.

“Lordy
 . . .
”

Torg and Laylah sat down in the two remaining chairs that had been arranged around the hearth. Each picked up a mug of ale and took long sips, but they continued to gaze at each other with twinkling eyes, making Lucius uneasy. When Bonny refilled his mug and again kissed him on the cheek, Lucius felt a whole lot better. Would his life be so bad if he ended up with someone like her instead of Laylah?

The pirate woman left the room and returned with the innkeeper.

Rakkhati bore a wooden tray crowded with bowls of fragrant custard that he told them were made with chicken broth, rice, and goat’s milk and garnished with seeds of anise, which were good for digestion. Bonny’s tray held several loaves of dark bread along with chunks of salted mutton.

Rakkhati had said that the food in Duccarita would be less palatable than the ale, and he was right—but not by much. After having spent weeks in the wilderness, the simple meal enthralled them. They ate ravenously, and when they finished, not a spoonful of custard, a crumb of bread, or a shred of mutton remained. Afterward they drank more ale, while Rathburt smoked sweet-smelling tobacco from the pipe he had pilfered from the Mogol camp.

When the meal was cleared, Rakkhati and Bonny drew up two more chairs and joined them. Though the others were becoming drowsy, Lucius noticed that Torg was on full alert, as if something very important was about to occur. Not wanting to be outdone, Lucius sat up too. But the others, including Laylah, seemed too sleepy to pay much attention.

“Lord Torgon,” Rakkhati said, addressing the wizard with a level of respect that Lucius found impressive, “am I free to speak in front of your companions, or should the three of us—”he nodded toward Bonny “—retire to a more secluded location?”

With these words, the rest began to pay attention. None of them, it seemed, wanted to be excluded from important matters.

“You may speak freely,” Torg said.

Rakkhati nodded. “Very well. Allow me to tell you what I know. First, the streets are active. The battle in the skies has stirred the pirates.”

Reminded of the tragedy, Ugga and Bard lowered their heads.

Rakkhati took notice of this and then continued. “Usually, even the bravest among us do not venture outside after dark, unless it’s to sprint from one tavern to the next. After all, there are thieves, and there are thieves. Some only steal from those who reside outside the city’s walls, while others make their living robbing the robbers. Still, that is not the worst of it.

“Many things roam the streets in the darkness, and some are not human. Creatures lurk in the crannies and alleyways, pouncing on their victims with murderous intent. It is not unusual to be awoken from sleep by screams, but most of us just check the latches on the shutters and press our pillows against our ears, hoping the horrors of the night don’t find their way into our own bedchambers. Remember, Arupa-Loka is only ten leagues away, and its evils frequent the City of Thieves
 . . .
to feed. There are vampires, demons, trolls, and ghouls among us—and they are always hungry.

“But the worst are the ruined Daasa, who have escaped the slave pits and live on the streets like wild dogs. These rogues remain permanently in their heinous state, and they are not pleasant to encounter. Even the monsters give them a wide berth, for they are more powerful and dangerous than mountain wolves. I am a strong man, well-trained with sword and bow, but even someone like me would be hard-pressed against such beasts.”

“Rakkhati is right,” Bonny said in a cold tone. “The streets
are
dangerous. I have wandered them myself.” She lifted her waistcoat and undershirt, revealing a nasty scar on her abdomen. Then she turned to Lucius, and her playfulness returned. “The rest of me is still fine to look at.”

“I don’t doubt it,” Lucius said, and then reflexively glanced at Laylah, who appeared amused by the tête-à-tête.

Torg gestured toward Rakkhati. “Continue
 . . .
”

“Yes, lord,” the innkeeper went on. “I was first sent here by my superiors almost twenty years ago, and since then I have spoken with many and seen much. I am trusted—at least as trusted as anyone can be in a place like this—and my establishment has earned the reputation as a haven of sorts. In other words, if you pass through my doors, the odds are less than usual that your throats will be slit in your sleep.”

Bonny chuckled. “You can thank me for that.”

Rakkhati nodded. “There is truth in her words. She is much stronger than she looks.”