Blood for the Spilling Read online

  “Only if you know what you’re doing. Fighting everything and everyone is a fool’s game.” Cadmael smiled. “You may still get your wish. Our ball game always requires new players.”

  Something flickered over Terrance’s face but was quickly masked.

  What ball game?

  Cadmael flicked a switch, and a circle lit up on the floor. “Your excuses bore me. Summon your demon.”

  Chapter 2

  SAKA MADE his way along the dirt track to the wooden structure where everyone came to get treatment from the healers. There were enough trees in that part of Demonside to cut them down and make permanent buildings. He’d stopped running his fingers over the purple-tinged wood a few days after he arrived, but he still marveled at it.

  No one lived in tents either.

  This tribe didn’t move around, not as a whole, anyway. People came and went to see other tribes, but this was where they lived. There were even buildings for visitors—demon and human. He had a room, and in the corner was his folded tent and the sled he’d dragged across the desert in the hope of getting his warlock to safety.

  He hadn’t heard anything from Angus since he and the other humans had been taken across the void by the Mayan priest. For all he knew, Angus was dead. It was a thought he didn’t like to linger on but one that haunted him at night when he tried to sleep.

  Had he done the right thing, or had he acted selfishly in leaving his tribe?

  While his home had been drying, this place was lush in comparison. There was no need to draw up water from underground rivers. The river flowed along the surface.

  The dirt track widened, and the town center came into view among the trees. It was still an arresting sight, unfamiliar and strange. He didn’t belong among these demons with their fur and antlers and long muzzles or their scales and wings and feathers. There were so many kinds he’d never seen before that it had been hard not to stare at first. Even now, some of them stared at him as though they’d never seen a horned demon in their lives. Maybe they hadn’t. His kind of demon didn’t exist here, and his dark, reddish skin set him further apart.

  In the healers’ building, there was already a line of people waiting to be seen. The humans came there willingly, and most of them didn’t come to die. They came to look at the demon town or to get treatment. Mage Iktan had put him to work there. Saka wasn’t sure if it was so he could be closely supervised or if they actually realized he had a talent for healing.

  He had been the main healer in his tribe. How were they managing now, or were they not coping with the dry at all? Guilt stabbed like a splinter he couldn’t get to. He had to believe he’d done the right thing. Killing all humans was wrong, even though his tribe didn’t see it. They wanted blood to stop the drying. They wanted war.

  This tribe didn’t, but while he was still afforded the title of mage, he had no standing.

  He sat down at his place, and the first human approached with a friend. As was often the case, it was the friend who was making the blood sacrifice as payment for the magic that would be used in the healing.

  For all his training and years practicing, he didn’t know how the transaction worked. It was emotion that gave the blood power, yet there was no fear or lust involved. He’d watched on the first day and had questioned what happened to the blood. He wanted to know how the humans came and left so freely and had maddeningly been given no answers.

  Iktan gave him professional courtesy and a grudging respect, but no trust. If Saka had lacked the ability to heal, he’d probably be planting and harvesting crops.

  That might be preferable.

  Saka listened to the human talk as he used magic to find the true source of the illness—words didn’t always match the body.

  “Healing can be painful.” How many times did he say that each day? But they seemed to already know. Maybe a human on the other side of the void had warned them. All his questions about the human side of the void remained unanswered. Did they think him a spy? Who was he going to tell?

  Angus?

  Maybe they thought Angus was a spy.

  This man’s bellyache was caused by a festering in his gut. It was something that should be cut out and not something Saka could treat on his own.

  He glanced at the human couple. “This requires a cutting.”

  The woman offered her arm.

  Saka shook his head. While he could understand the words they spoke because of the magic-imbued jade now piercing his ear, he couldn’t speak it. It was much easier to talk to demons using telestones when language fell away and thoughts were understood. Here he stumbled like a child learning his first words.

  He got up and spoke to the demon in charge.

  Noe understood Saka’s demonstration of cutting open the belly but didn’t deign to speak to him. Saka was there under sufferance. Until he heard from Angus, he had to do something, so Saka gritted his teeth and did what was asked of him. If he was busy, his thoughts had less time to rattle in his head, his worries less time to chew on his guts, and his panic less time to smother each breath.

  Noe and the man with the belly had a rapid conversation that Saka was just able to follow. He was going to be moved to one of the back rooms where some very specialized demons would make the cut and heal him. He’d then be sent home to be watched by priests.

  “Is there a problem?”

  Saka snapped his head up at the sound of Iktan’s voice. While the tone was soft, the words were full of bite.

  “This patient is beyond his ability,” Noe said as if Saka were a new mage.

  “That’s not true.” Saka could treat the man if he had an assistant. “You have a different system.” It had just been Usi and he in his tribe until Wek and Tapo joined them, but they rarely treated humans. Humans from Vinland would never come to a demon for help, but he’d saved Angus, much to the disgust of several mages who wanted to spill warlock blood.

  The two furred demons glanced at him, and Saka wasn’t sure if they understood a word he’d said. He needed to learn their language, but to do so, he would have to remove the piercing and actually hear the language.

  “Your… warlock….” Iktan stumbled over the word as though it were one he wasn’t familiar with. But it was the one that made Saka’s heart tighten with anticipation. Angus was alive. “Will be summoning you soon. We will wait at the doorway.” Iktan turned and walked away without waiting for Saka’s agreement.

  Saka shot a look at Noe and then followed Iktan. Angus was alive and about to summon him. Hope and other things a mage shouldn’t dabble in flitted through him like the luminous insects that filled the night. The wait was over, and now they could do something to stop the college. But what had taken the Mayans so long?

  They left the building, passed through a doorway, and then walked away from the town. What exactly was this doorway? Every other question had been met with a brush-off, so Saka didn’t bother to ask.

  They walked in silence until they reached an area that had been paved with several large stones. There was no door, just two pillars engraved with glyphs. Two ferocious-looking armed demons with long fangs and spotted skin guarded the area. Why did they need to be here when a warlock could summon their demon from anywhere?

  Iktan stared ahead.

  “What is this?” Saka pointed to the stones.

  Iktan ignored him. It would be easy to assume that Iktan didn’t understand, but Saka knew he did. Iktan was Priest Cadmael’s demon, and the two of them were powerful. Because of their influence, Saka was tolerated in the tribe. But he wasn’t an apprentice, and he should be given answers and allowed to learn.

  He pressed his teeth together and forced his frustration out on a breath. Angus was going to summon him. It would be best if he were calm and prepared for anything, but he was sure it wouldn’t be what he wanted.

  On the trek he’d grown used to sleeping with Angus at his side. He missed him in a way he hadn’t thought possible. A familiar tug bloomed in his blood. Once he’d been annoyed at h
aving to answer a human’s summons, but now he welcomed it. He needed to see Angus like he needed to breathe.

  A tear in the void appeared between the pillars. It shimmered black as it widened, and Saka took a step forward, not willing to wait a moment longer.

  Iktan put a hand on his arm to stop him.

  The void was open, and the summoning was for him. He could feel it calling to him. Angus was on the other side. One of the soldiers peered into the void. Was he expecting an army to pour through?

  It was only when the soldier stepped back that Iktan released Saka.

  “Why did he check?”

  “All openings get checked. All openings happen here at the doorway.”

  “But if I get summoned, and I’m in town, what then?”

  Iktan gave what passed for a smile. He drew back his lips to reveal large square teeth. “You won’t receive a random summoning.”

  What about the other mages? Did they sprint from town to the doorway? A twenty-minute walk was still a ten-minute run. Putting the doorway so far away made no sense. That they could control where the void opened was both amazing and concerning. And he had no idea how it worked. Would he be stepping through to Angus or was it a trap?

  “Go, or your warlock will fail a simple test.”

  Saka didn’t think a mage would lie to him, and Angus was waiting, so he stepped onto the warm stones. The closer he got to the tear in the void, the cooler the stones became. As he stepped through, the familiar chill sunk into him, and then he was in a white room with three humans.

  His heart lurched at the sight of Angus, but his human looked well—fully recovered from the trek and well looked-after. Saka wanted to embrace him, but that had been frowned on in his tribe and he wasn’t sure of the rules in the Mayan Empire. Rushing to Angus’s side could make things worse. He curled his fingers with his need to touch Angus, but he didn’t step closer.

  He glanced at Terrance, who looked better than he had the last time Saka had seen him. He was glad that Terrance had survived, for Angus’s sake. With training and some courage, Terrance would make a fine warlock… priest. He could be more than a wizard if he chose to push himself.

  If he had five minutes alone with Angus….

  Saka swallowed down the hunger to touch his human. He missed him, craved him. He didn’t want to think that was a weakness to be healed. Miniti and Usi thought it was, and he’d proven them right by fleeing from the area of Demonside that linked with the Vinnish and abandoning his tribe to protect Angus instead of killing him.

  The demons of Iktan’s tribe didn’t demand the death of humans, because the human country they connected with through the void didn’t threaten and demand that. The Mayans worked with their demons. The relationship between Mayan and demon was something he’d only heard about from his mentor when she talked about a time before the first demon war. He hadn’t thought it still possible.

  Were they now in the second?

  Had the Mayans ever had a demon war, or had they always had peace between the two worlds? If he could get answers and speak his mind, he’d be able to piece together a greater picture of Demonside.

  There were many tribes with different customs, but they could unite to save Demonside.

  “Mage Saka.” Priest Cadmael looked unimpressed. It was perhaps his only expression. That was the way he’d looked every time Saka had seen him.

  Saka inclined his head. He wasn’t there for the priest. He was there because Angus had summoned him, albeit at Cadmael’s request. Saka smiled at Angus but didn’t step closer. None of them had moved. The humans seemed to be waiting for permission to do something. And Cadmael watched them all.

  Saka didn’t need permission from a human warlock or priest—they were the same as far as he could tell. He closed the distance to stand before Angus, close enough to touch if he reached out his hands. “Your eyes are blue again.”

  “Yes.” Angus brushed Saka’s hand for just a moment. Saka wanted to grab hold. “And you?”

  “You may leave now,” Cadmael said to Saka.

  “I just stepped through. I want to be able to talk with Angus.”

  “I’m sure you do, and you can after the other one has called you back.”

  Saka flicked a glance between Terrance and Angus, but they looked just as perplexed.

  “You are the anchor in this?” Cadmael pointed to Terrance.

  “What is an anchor?” Angus asked. He seemed aware that the situation was sliding away from them.

  Saka grasped Angus’s fingers. He could take Angus with him if he had to.

  Cadmael narrowed his eyes, but he didn’t step closer. “Someone has to be on this side to bring you back.”

  Angus shook his head. “We all came through because we had to leave Vinland. I told you that. We all told you that.”

  “But usually you have an anchor.”

  Angus paled and looked at Terrance.

  The conversations Saka had overheard in the village started to make sense. “They do not share a demon.”

  “But you both share Angus.” It wasn’t a compliment. There was more than a hint of disdain. Cadmael knew a little too much about who was involved with whom.

  No one said anything, and the silence swelled until it vibrated in the air with each breath.

  Cadmael took a few steps, his sandals a whisper on the floor. “If Terrance is not your anchor, then he has no use. You can find a better one, one whose loyalties are not so easily for sale.”

  “No.” Angus put his arm out to stop Cadmael from getting any closer to Terrance. A crackle of magic shimmered through the air and between their linked fingers.

  Saka didn’t know how powerful Cadmael was, but he doubted any of them would get out of the room alive if Cadmael decided they were all too much trouble. And if, by some small chance, they got to Demonside, there was nowhere else to go. Saka wasn’t ready to consider another trek across the desert. Then there were the other refugees, the humans who had followed Angus from Vinland. Saka brushed his free hand over his ear and removed the jade. Angus needed it more than he did. He’d claim it fell out and get a new one if questioned, or he’d just work harder to learn the language.

  “You haven’t even explained what an anchor is.” Angus’s fingers tightened on his.

  “I just did,” Cadmael said without any emotion.

  But he hadn’t explained well enough. Saka shouldn’t have to take on the role of teacher. “A human who shares your demon, and can open the void so you can come and go at will,” Saka said. There was probably more to it, but that was all he’d gleaned. He placed his other hand over Angus’s and gave him the jade. He might not get a chance to explain what it was, but Angus would work it out… hopefully. “It’s not that yet. But it could be.”

  “I am not in the position of granting visas on a maybe. Terrance, of all of you, is the one who arouses suspicion.”

  “I was in the underground. I was the one who talked everyone into fleeing. Why am I not a danger?” Angus said.

  Cadmael walked up to Angus until he was almost standing on his toes. Saka took a step closer, but Cadmael ignored him except to calmly lift their linked hands. “You acted out of a love for magic and the need for it to be used correctly. You have a mage as your counterpart, someone who understands magic. He”—Cadmael inclined his head at Terrance—“had an animal that was killed and acted to save his own skin with no regard for others.”

  “That’s not true.” They were the first words Saka had heard Terrance say. While he hadn’t liked Terrance at first, he had grown to respect him on the trek.

  “Really? Then let me offer you a test to prove that your skin isn’t all you value,” Cadmael said.

  Terrance considered for a moment. “What is your test?”

  “Pitz,” Cadmael said like it was nothing.

  Saka had heard that word in relation to a large offering of blood and human sacrifice. Pitz was important and bloody. “What is pitz?”

  “A game. A ball game.�
� Cadmael smiled, and Saka decided that he much preferred his indifference. “You like ball games, Terrance.”

  “That depends on the game.”

  “This one is simple. The loser gives their life for magic to be balanced. So either you can play, or Angus can play. How precious is your life when weighed against the human you claim is so important to you?”

  “We were in the process of making Terrance the anchor and cementing the relationship.” By “in the process,” Saka meant they had talked about the three of them raising some magic when they were safe and not thirsty and half dead in the desert.

  Cadmael shot him a glare that cut through his web-thin truth.

  Angus pulled his hand free, turned to Terrance, and gripped Terrance’s shoulders. “You don’t have to do this. We didn’t come all this way to die.” He glanced at Cadmael. “We came to get help to bring down the Warlock College and fix the way magic is used. I thought you’d help us.”

  “Help has a cost.”

  “If you do nothing, Demonside will dry, even your lush little part. The demons talk about the lack of rains and the shrinking of the jungle. And the ice that covers your world will continue its march. If you do not act, your way of life will unravel,” Saka said. Didn’t the Mayans want to stop the ice?

  “I do not need to be told by a demon who abandoned his tribe to save a human. You had the chance to rebalance, and you didn’t take it.”

  “I have rebalanced many times, as has Angus. One death is a drop when the warlocks are hoarding and storing.” Killing Angus and staying with his tribe would’ve accomplished nothing. The warlocks controlled when the void was opened. That meant that demons were victims of chance. A warlock would grab as many demons as he could and then flee. All demons could do was arm themselves and wait to kill as many humans as they could. Both sides would pile up the bodies until someone was ready to make a treaty. Saka didn’t think the Vinnish warlocks wanted a treaty. They wanted all the magic.