Duality - Rowan Erlking (sight word books .TXT) 📗

demon could possibly help us? What kind would?”

“I can’t tell you.” Malkia then looked over her shoulder at the performers. She rolled her eyes and went back to talking to Bernum. “They won’t talk to Omoni about this, but I’m sure others might be listening. Just go home. Dennik must be worried sick about you.”

“Dennik is fine.” Bernum looked at the performers also. “Dad’s with him. Besides, it’s Dennik that’s been taking care of things at home.”

Malkia’s eyes went wide, tears filling them up once more. Her voice came out in a squeak. “What? Dad’s ok?”

Bernum nodded, hushing her. More heads perked. Whispering, “Yes. Dennik kept him alive. That creep merchant poisoned him. I got home in time to cure him, but Dad’s resting.”

Her hands were already over her face as she sobbed harder. “I thought Omoni killed him. When Dad didn’t come…”

Watching her cry, Bernum looked over at those watching again and then gave up, wrapping his arms around his sister once more. “It’s ok. Come on. It’s ok. Dad’s fine. He sent me, ok. I let him know everything I found out. He knows where we are, and as soon as he’s well enough I’m sure he’ll find a way to prosecute Merchant Omoni. In the mean time we’ve got to get that collar off of you. Ok?”

Malkia nodded, looking up and wiping her eyes.

Reaching under her chin, Bernum tilted the silver choker that encircled her neck just tight enough not to rest on her collarbones, yet not to obstruct her throat. There was a catch in the back, which he tried to undo, but nothing worked.

“I already tried everything,” Malkia said, sniffling. “His wife even tried to get it off of me. She doesn’t hate me—she’s mad at Omoni for it, but you know Maldos law…”

Bernum slowly shook his head. “I’m starting to think I don’t. What do you mean?”

Malkia sighed, resting her hand on Bernum’s shoulder. “The wife is the property of the husband, according to Maldos law. So she can’t disobey him. And, Bernum, taking me out of here would be considered theft. Only Dad had the authority to override any claims Omoni might have on me, and that right lasts only for the first two months I’ve been with him—and you know that has passed already.”

Bernum growled, folding his arms across his chest. “Yeah, and Dennik couldn’t find the proof who had poisoned Dad. Is there anyway to appeal to the law?”

She shook her head. “No. The only way I can free myself is to walk away from him. I never agreed to any marriage vows, so I’m still just in concubine status.”

Whipping his eyes to the tent door with a glare, he snarled. “If he ever laid a finger on you—”

“I never let him.” Malkia cracked a smile. “And I won’t let him.”

Looking to her again, Bernum exhaled. “Are you sure we have to wait for some demon? I’m sure we can figure out something together. We are stronger together, you know.”

Hugging him, Malkia whispered into his ear, “Trust me. This demon will do the trick. Just wait for him.”

He frowned, hanging his head a little.

“Ludy used to say that patience wins out.” Malkia peered into his face, holding his head near his ears. “Come on, Bernum. Give it time.”

Sighing, he nodded. “Fine. I’ll play stupid magician and wait. But if that demon doesn’t get rid of Omoni, I’m taking care of him myself, my way.”

Bernum walked back to his magic chest to empty his pockets into it. As he did, Malkia ducked past the llama, waving to him. She walked towards the horses, sticking her hands behind her back though she wiped her eyes once more before she completely left his sight. Bernum only hoped she was right. Omoni seemed a hard one to best.

He closed the chest then dragged it from the circle. Tired, Bernum’s mind started to go over the things he had to do next, rising. He walked to the exit, glancing cautiously into the street, hoping to beat the crowds. So far, the roads were clear.

 

Omoni’s steward stepped out from behind the ramp for the dog show nodding to himself with a sly grin. He turned, keeping one eye on Bernum as the magician-in-training walked into the dark and walked towards the other tent flap that would take him back into the stands. Towards it—but he didn’t make it through. He bumped right into a large copper breastplate. The looming Blue Lord stared down at him with his glowing eyes.

“Out of the way, blue-eye.” The steward tried to shove aside, taking a step to the right, but the Blue Lord did not move. Omoni’s steward looked up at him. “I said move.”

The red haired warriess stepped into the space, her hand on her sword hilt though she was just shaking her head at him. “I don’t think so.”

Staggering back, the steward opened his mouth to call for security but the Blue Lord set his enormous hand over the man’s face. It barely came out as a squeak. The steward’s eyes bugging out as he gasped, he started to grow thin, first at the cheeks then down his neck, his face, his hair, his skin shriveling into gray; puckering, wrinkling into dry folds until it literally sucked to his bones. The bones then crumbled into powered ash. The dust puffed down with the steward’s clothes to the straw strewn ground.

The Blue Lord dusted off his hands while turning to the KiTai warriess, kicking the ground dirt over the ‘remains’ of the steward. “Dispose of his clothes. Don’t let me know where so when I’m asked I can tell the truth.”

The woman nodded, gathering them up. She gestured to one of the acrobats to help her, whispering similar things to him. The acrobat hopped with the clothes in his arm, tucking them under his arm in a wadded up ball.

The feathered black-and-white haired man jogged in, his show just finished, looking over at what they were doing. He hissed low, “What are you two doing? I thought we agreed no physical retaliation. This is going to cause us a lot of trouble.”

Shaking his head, the Blue Lord gazed out to where Bernum had gone. “No. We just solved a problem and found a solution.”

Chapter Nine: Ghosts and Demons

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

                                          

 

Bernum made sure his lodgings were tightly locked when he walked out the following morning. His walk home after the performance was revelatory, and frankly disconcerting. He had bumped into a twitchy constable who was patrolling about with his nightstick. The man practically jumped on Bernum with warnings about a ghost stalking around the city. And though Bernum had blown him off as a man who had been drinking on the job, he later ran into another constable who stopped Bernum to share a similar warning: “Don’t linger on the streets tonight. There’s a ghost-white demon on the prowl. You don’t want to be caught unawares. It has already eaten the strength of two men, leaving them near death. ”

Of course in the light of the morning sun with the salty sea air in his nostrils, Bernum had a hard time believing in ghosts—though he did think about demons. Malkia’s wishes that he wait for her summoned demon still filled him with distaste. He knew only a little about the demons that inhabited their world. In Maldos, the only demons he knew that freely roamed were the skin-eaters that fed off of sheep and the occasional wayward traveler. They were savage creatures, not the kind that could enter the city easily, though at least they looked like a Maldos than that ghost the constables were talking about. Which made Bernum wonder…did Malkia summon a foreign demon? And if so, why did she trust it?

As he started to cross the street towards the market street, still thinking about it, he heard the steaming chugging of the most curious yet not altogether unfamiliar contraption rumble around the corner, honking its horn at the morning cart horses to get them to move out of its way. Bernum blinked at the shiny horseless carriage. The rubberized wheels bounced over the cobblestone all the way up to the curb where Bernum had just set his feet. Omoni peeked his head out, beckoning with his arm to Bernum. “Come here, boy. I need to speak with you.”

Shrugging, Bernum walked to the imported vehicle. He glanced at the chrome and his reflection in it. The driver kept his eyes forward, leaving Omoni and Bernum to whatever business his employer intended to conduct.

Omoni beckoned Bernum closer. “That was some show you gave yesterday. You do intend to improve on it though, I assume?”

Nodding with a smirk, Bernum kept back the urge to knock the man on the head for messing with his sister. Instead he said, “Of course. For a decent show I need more than the junk Head Magician Jimmit put into that chest. Most of that stuff was to cause me trouble anyway.”

The merchant grinned, nodding. “Yes. Though you surprised me with those birds. I’m sorry my wife upset you, though. I assure you she won’t be at the next shows.”

Bernum stuffed his hands into his pockets to hide his irritation. “Funny—it looked more like I upset her.”

He saw the merchant’s mouth curl up higher. “Yes. Well…she’s a little high strung.”

Bernum wanted to punch him then, but kept his hands in his pockets. It was the safest place for them at that moment. “I’m sure she has a reason.”

Laughing at that, Omoni then looked down the road. “Well, she has to learn her place. A woman shouldn’t be outspoken like that. I’m still working on her.”

Clenching his hands tighter, Bernum maintained his placid expression. “Hmm. Well, what is it that you want to talk to me about? I doubt it was about the show.”

“Yes…” Omoni’s countenance changed. His smile dropped into a straight line of business. His eyes fixed on Bernum’s face. “My steward. I sent him out last night to a task, and I haven’t heard from him since. Have you seen him?”

Bernum shook his head, blinking with wonder only slightly. “No. The last time I saw him was right before the show. He was mocking me.”

Chuckling, Omoni nodded. “He does have quite a sense of humor. No. The task I set him on was after that. Are you sure you haven’t seen him?”

Glancing up at the dangling truth-bell in the automobile that Omoni brought along, Bernum said deliberately, “No. Like I said, the last time I saw him was before the show. Maybe the ghost got him.”

Omoni stiffened. “What?”

Blinking back, Bernum glanced over his shoulder at the brightening sky. He replied, “Haven’t you heard? The constables last night were warning people about a ghost-like demon stalking around the city. One of them told me there were already two victims.”

With a jerk, the merchant retreated back into the vehicle. He sat upright and blinked with rapid thought. He nodded to himself then called to his driver who immediately signaled that he would pull into the road. There was only one horse-drawn cart in the street, yet it whinnied at the toot of the horn, reeling away as the cart driver tried to calm he animal down. Omoni hardly waved at Bernum as he