The Inner Circle: The Knowing (28 page)

‘
Shut up,’ Seteal
hissed, still imagining the creature’s inevitable demise. ‘I don’t
care to hear your piteous excuses, nor do I care that you abandoned
me to be raped. I do not care that you were born in Sitnic, or that
you had human parents, or if you’ve never created a single whisp in
your life. I hate you because you’re a demon. You are a disgusting,
repulsive, leathery-winged demon and if only I had the power and
permission I would squeeze your throat until I’d killed you with my
own hands. Do you hear?’

The silt did not respond and eventually
Seteal grew tired of waiting. With a dreamy smile on her face she
floated up the spiral staircase, along the corridor and up on deck.
She wove between the crewmen and made her way to the Keacos' wagon.
She opened the door at the back, climbed inside, and collapsed on a
pile of blankets. A wave of nausea pinched her stomach and thrust
itself into her throat. Vomit sprayed from Seteal’s mouth and hit
the floor of the wagon before she even knew what’d happened.

Seteal gagged at the smell, but
found herself unable to leave the dark interior. ‘But you’ve been a
naughty girl.’ His voice haunted her. Seteal put a hand on her
shoulder, remembering his first touch.

‘
Are you all
right there missy?’ Master Fasil asked, grasping at Seteal’s
shoulder.
‘How rude of me.’ The man shook
his head. ‘I’m Master Fasil.’ He reached out to take Seteal’s hand
and pushed his lips against it.

‘
Seteal,’ she
replied, retrieving her hand hastily.

‘
And whom, may I ask,
do you belong to?’ The man snarled like a predator.

‘
Belong to?’ Seteal
shook her head. ‘I’m afraid you’ve confused me.’

‘
Pretty little thing,
but none too bright,’ Master Fasil laughed mockingly. ‘But it’s
always that way with the better ones.’

‘
Is it really, you
filthy old bastard?’ Seteal laughed vengefully. Master Fasil’s eyes
widened in terror as she withdrew a great sword from its scabbard
and spun it around in expert circles. Seteal smiled lustfully as
she thrust the sword into his genitals and again into his body.
Even as his eyes closed and blood poured to the earth, oh, how
Seteal laughed. She laughed and laughed as the blood sprayed across
the dirt. Again and again she plunged that sword into his black
heart until he was nothing more than a discoloured pile of
mush.

Wiping the vomit from her chin, Seteal
fell back against the wall of the wagon. Outside she could see the
crewmen rushing about their duties under Captain Waxnah’s watchful
eye, but for all it mattered, she could’ve been a million miles
away. What was happening to her? All she ever felt was hatred. It
was exhausting. So much hatred. It consumed her. Maker, when would
it ever end?

Seteal rocked forward onto her haunches
and retrieved an armful of blankets, before making her way
unsteadily out onto the deck. With an expressionless face, she
wandered about handing out blankets and avoiding eye contact. Eye
contact might mean conversation and conversation might mean time
away from her hatful thoughts. She couldn’t risk that. She needed
the hatred.

So focused on avoiding seeing anything,
Seteal’s toe caught on a protrusion and she tripped. Her body flew
forward without her, arms flailing, but a moment later her soul,
too, fell forward into the back of her body, just after it’d hit
the deck.

‘
Are you all right?’
A crewman rushed over and grabbed her elbow in an effort to help
her up.

‘
It didn’t hurt you
did it?’ Master Fasil narrowed his eyes in predation. ‘Pretty
little thing like you.’

Seteal screamed before she could stop
herself, she thrust her tightly clenched fist into the man’s
face.

‘
Get away from me!’
Seteal cried as she picked herself up to run away. ‘Just leave me
alone!’

CHAPTER
Nineteen

Cold Wood

The night drifted by to the sound of
Seteal tossing and turning in her sheets until eventually El-i-miir
felt her drift off to sleep. She slid from her blankets and having
gone to bed fully dressed, headed for the door. She turned the
handle and slid silently out of the room.

The corridor was dark, but for a single
lantern beside the ladder. Aside from the steady crashing of waves
against the hull, all was still. Sliding her hand along the wall,
El-i-miir made her way toward the spiral staircase, heart already
pounding.

On reaching Ilgrin’s cell, she didn’t
know quite what to do. El-i-miir considered going back to bed for a
moment, but instead of doing so she sat cross-legged beside the
door. Not a single sound came from within.

‘
You came back,’
Ilgrin whispered after a long silence.

‘
I did,’ El-i-miir
replied, her mouth a handswidth from the door.

‘
Is anything the
matter?’ the silt enquired. ‘Are you upset?’

‘
Of course I’m
upset.’

‘
Do you have any
family?’ Ilgrin asked awkwardly a moment later.

‘
Yes.’

‘
Well, there’s
something to be happy about,’ he whispered encouragingly. ‘Tell me
about them.’

‘
We’re like most
families, I suppose.’ El-i-miir shrugged. ‘I have a mother, a
father, and two younger sisters. They live in the Sixth Cleff,
where I was raised before Far-a-mael took me away. I’m sorry. I’m
probably boring you. What about you?’

A period of silence followed
El-i-miir’s question, but in time the silt replied. ‘My family are
all dead.’

‘
I’m sorry,’
she
said pityingly.

‘
I know,’ Ilgrin
whispered, his voice wavering with emotion.

El-i-miir bit her lip and looked
away. She couldn’t free him yet. It’d be far too obvious who’d done
it and too dangerous in the middle of Cold Wood. But if he asked
her, she doubted her resolve not to do so. Her life, in exchange
for his. There would be no falling in between. She could unlock the
door with one small movement. She could free him. But in doing so,
El-i-miir would lose everything: her family, her home, her position
as a rei, and even the Frozen Lands themselves. She’d never be able
to return and if she did, she’d be condemned to
Vish’el’Tei.

El-i-miir placed her hand flat against
the cold steel, imagining what it’d be like to touch Ilgrin on the
other side. ‘I’ll save you,’ she whispered at last. The silt didn’t
reply. ‘I’ve made you this promise and Maker damn me if I don’t
fulfil it.’

‘
The opportunity may
never come,’ Ilgrin murmured solemnly. ‘Far-a-mael watches too
closely.’

‘
It will,’ El-i-miir
insisted. ‘I’ll make sure of it.’

‘
Why?’

‘
Because . . .’
Because she loved him? ‘Because you’ve done nothing
wrong.’

‘
Thank you,’ he
whispered. It was a simple admission and yet the words sent shivers
down El-i-miir’s spine. She’d made a deal with a demon. From that
there could be no return.

*

El-i-miir woke up with a start. Her
backside ached and her back was stiff. She gasped, stood up and
glanced fearfully about the hold. How could she have fallen asleep?
How long had she been down there?

‘
Good sleepy times?’
the unmistakable voice of Seeol enquired from less than a stride
away.

‘
Yes.’ El-i-miir
picked herself up and put a hand to the side of her head. ‘I mean .
. . no. What time is it?’

‘
I can’t read
clocks.’ Seeol shrugged his wings. ‘But the morning is very
earlier.’

‘
Morning,’ El-i-miir
gasped. ‘Is anyone up yet?’

‘
Lots of peoples,’
Seeol twittered. ‘Now silly El-i-miir must excuse me.’ The little
bird bounced over to the cell door to unlatch the food hatch.
‘Ilgrin’s dinner is coming soon and we dine together.’ He hopped
through the gap and El-i-miir was left to hear a muffled greeting
pass between the two within.

El-i-miir hurried for the stairs in
time to see a boot land at the top. She suppressed a yelp and
scurried over to the horses. Much to Darra’s surprise, El-i-miir
yanked open the gate and huddled down inside the stall. The animal
stomped a hoof uneasily, but otherwise tolerated the intrusion.

El-i-miir held her breath as Raeghan
descended carrying a small tray. He strode across the room and slid
it through the opening at the bottom of the door, before stepping
back to move uneasily toward the stairs.

‘
Thank you,’ Seeol
croaked from within. ‘This is scrumptious.’

Raeghan glanced back at the door
with a pinched expression and then doubled his pace back upstairs.
El-i-miir stepped out of the stall and hurried after him. She
popped her head around the opening carefully and when she found the
corridor was empty, made her way along its length to her room. She
reached for the handle, but the door swung inward on its
own.

‘
Where have you
been?’ Seteal raised a questioning eyebrow.

‘
Um . . . the ladies’
room,’ El-i-miir spluttered.

‘
Yuck,’ Seteal
wrinkled her nose, her eyes falling to the bottom of El-i-miir’s
dress. ‘I think you missed!’

El-i-miir followed her gaze and felt
her face grow hot when there she found a smear of Darra’s manure.
‘No, I was . . . um . . . that’s something else.’

‘
Come on, El-i-miir,’
Seteal reprimanded. ‘I know the boat makes you a little unsteady on
your feet, but you really mustn’t let your standards of cleanliness
drop like this. People will think you’re a commoner.’

‘
But, I . . .’
El-i-miir scrabbled for words, but stopped upon the realisation
that Seteal was teasing her. ‘You know.’

‘
Of course.’
Seteal shrugged. ‘I’ve been around horses all my life. I know what
dung looks like.’ She headed along the corridor but stopped
abruptly. ‘Why exactly are you trying to hide the fact that you’ve
been down there?’ She turned around. ‘You weren’t talking to
it
again,
were you?’

‘
So what if--?’
El-i-miir stopped short and narrowed her eyes piercingly. She was
tired of making excuses for her actions. ‘It’s about time you
remembered the hierarchy here, Seteal. It’s not your place to
question my judgement. What I do in my own time is none of your
concern.’

‘
My lady.’ Seteal
curtsied mockingly before finishing her journey along the corridor
and up the ladder.

After taking a minute to regain her
composure, El-i-miir followed. There was a gentle breeze that
picked up her hair and pushed it this way and that. Men hurried
about their duties, Captain Waxnah standing watchful guard over all
of it. None of this was what held El-i-miir’s attention. On the
other side of the boat, Seteal stood beside Far-a-mael. The pair
watched her as though she was a suspicious animal that might
harbour poisonous fangs, their clothing dancing about in the wind
while their bodies stood fixed as living statues.

Far-a-mael’s face was stony as ever,
his piercing blue eyes revealing naught but contempt. Seteal had
become Far-a-mael’s rei. And El-i-miir had become the captive.

Breaking away from Far-a-mael’s gaze,
she headed to the opposite end of the boat where she leaned over
the railing, gathered her jackets and cloak about herself and
raised a defensive hood against the biting cold. The water below
was oddly dark and moved along the hull with a consistency more
reminiscent of syrup. For all intents and purposes, the liquid
should have been frozen solid, but for some mysterious reason, it
wasn’t.

El-i-miir reflected on the scripture
studies of her youth. Could this truly have been the place where
Sa’Tan the Devil tore a hole between Hae'Evun and Earth? Was this
where the demons gained original entry into the world of man?
El-i-miir sincerely doubted it. Silts had always existed there,
much like humans or any of the animals for that matter. It didn’t
do to dwell on fairy tales.

El-i-miir turned and rested against the
railing before an agonised scream stole her attention. A crewmen
stumbled toward her, his right hand clutching his left wrist and
his face drained of colour. He toppled forward and hit the deck
with outthrust arms. His left hand shattered like porcelain,
leaving nothing behind but an oozing stump.

‘
Get away!’ El-i-miir
shouted a warning when she noticed frost slithering menacingly
along the riverboat’s figurehead, which cracked loudly and split
down the middle. Men abandoned their duties and ran toward the back
of the boat, but one was too slow and the frozen air engulfed him.
The man became a statue, which fell and shattered across the
deck.

Chaos erupted, crewmen flooding toward
El-i-miir from every direction, she being closest to the hatch.
Before she could react, El-i-miir found herself being pushed out of
the way and shoved to the ground. She winced and rolled onto her
side. There was a bloody graze on her elbow. She looked up to the
sound of scraping and was astounded to see sheets of ice slithered
across the deck toward her from every direction. The final crewman
scurried through the hatch and slammed it tight.