The Dukes of Odwego finds Astra (secret necromancer, former nun, and displaced librarian of Qordashi) drifting ever farther from the only life she knew and deeper into a world she never expected to see. The powerful, winding Hoshikwazu river leads her, her injured best friend Traz, and the ever-enigmatic Xavai to a city that glitters with wealth but reeks of corruption. Within its walls, sour magic whispers, alliances shift like silt, and every kindness hides a price. To save the people she loves, Astra must rely on her wits, her courage, and maybe, maybe, a little necromancy.
Previously: Astra revealed the true demon...
Panic gripped everyone around them as the fire demon spun and skittered and burned on the wagon, setting all the wood and cloth aflame. Duke Fari’i stood tall on the burning wagon, heedless of the building blaze behind him as the other demon tumbled around in its fury.
One of the soldiers shouted for someone to unharness the restless oxen and pull them away from the conflagration, while one of the elders turned and began ordering people to form a water brigade.
“You trapped us. You broke our deal even as it was being made. We will come for you!” The duke shouted at Khossa as the flames reached his legs and quickly caught on his fine silk robes, lighting him up like kindling. But he stood there, staring at the magistrate, unbothered as the fire engulfed his human form.
“Brother!” Duke Fari’o cried out, helpless, held down by Riki’o and another guard to keep from injuring herself further.
Like shedding old skin, the fire demon stepped out of the burning shell of Duke Fari’i, and only then did what was left of the duke’s soul dust appear and dissipate as the body crumpled into the flames, shaking and twitching in human, mortal death throes. The two fire demons rolled around in the flames, their forms more like spiders made of fire than anything of the natural world, and distantly in her mind Astra wondered how she would one day describe such a scene.
Someone yelled “grab him!” and it was Xavai, pointing away. Astra looked up and saw Khossa running, his one remaining guard still loyal to him at his side.
But whatever Khossa had intended to do was never going to happen. The ceremonial wagon creaked and roared under the strain of the fire burning it down, tilting to one side and sliding apart into a pile of flaming wood. The fire had eaten through whatever magical restraints kept the demons locked to it, and with unholy shrieks they skittered out of the wagon after Khossa. The temple dogs followed them, barking loudly.
Khossa had by that time turned down a road and out of sight, but his screams when the demons caught him were horrible and wretched. He did not die quickly.
Many people flinched back but another elder yelled about the possibility of the demons setting fire to the city, and soon another water line from the large well was formed, tracing after the scorched path of the demons.
Astra was shaking in her shoes but she took a deep breath and looked over at Riki’o, who was tending to Duke Fari’o’s wounds. She pushed herself away from Xavai, who seemed reluctant to let her go, and padded through the chaos to the doctor.
“Will she live?” Astra asked.
The doctor looked up at her, untrusting. “For now. Go away.”
Astra nodded. She knew that Riki’o had sensed her true magic when she pushed the duke’s soul dust out of the crypt-keeper, but she had hoped maybe the kindly doctor would not judge her for it. She turned around and walked off, although she had no idea where. There were several lines of water bearers from the well, and everyone who had come to the square to witness Astra’s execution were now engaging in fighting to keep the city from going up in flames.
Traz grabbed her arm and led her to the middle of the square, where Muman’s vase of flowers had been toppled off its pillar. The beautiful green marble was shattered, the roots of the flowers and vines strewn over the bricks. Numbly, Astra got on her knees and began collecting the pieces. The Laws of the Directions said that any statue of the Gods that was broken should always be treated with the same care as human remains, so Astra was careful to sort even the smallest shards from the dirt. Traz, after a moment of watching her, got down and began to help.
Soon they had a pile of broken marble, collected into one of the larger pieces that still held a bit of the curve of the vase so it could serve as a shallow bowl.
“Doyen Superior,” someone said gently to her left. “Doyen Superior?”
Traz tapped her hand. “He means, you.”
Astra frowned. “But—”
Traz shook his head.
Standing up slowly, she found herself face to face with the tall, lanky, elder, with Hosea standing off to the side. He looked genuinely dismayed. “Priest Olta has also run away, although I expect he will be caught soon. Many are concerned. The fires are under control, we think, and the demons have devoured every piece of Khossa. But Duke Fari’o is badly injured.” He stopped there, motioning at the pile of marble shards. “And the monument to Muman has been broken.”
Astra nodded.
“It would be of great benefit to the city if you would lead us in prayer, Doyen Superior Ashatur.” He bowed deeply, and several people around them followed suit.
“I’m not a Superior.” She shook her head. Traz sighed in dismay.
The elder, though, just smiled at her kindly. “Rumors have been coming down the river of the attack on the hallowed ground of Qordashi. It grieves us all that they have been proven true. We respect your wish for anonymity, but this is a true crisis for Odwego. Please, Doyen Superior, we beg your blessings. The people of the Four Winds need your guidance.”
Astra looked at him and realized that it would be easier, and better, for her to go along with their misunderstanding just as Traz wanted her to. She sighed, then nodded.
Just then a cry went up from the people, most still working to put out the last of the embers of the wagon, as Ruby and Emerald ran into the square. Astra thought the people were scared, but she realized in the next second that the calls were joyous cheers.
The elder stepped away quickly but was again smiling as the dogs plowed to a stop next to Astra. Traz looked at the dogs then at Astra and raised his eyebrows, the message was clear. Who else but a superior would have temple dogs stand willingly at her side? Who else but a doyen superior could command them?
A younger man who looked like he could be the son of the tall elder jogged up, stopping short of where his father stood. He was breathing heavily as if he had just run for many meters, but was grinning widely. “The worthy beasts chased the demons out of town! All the way to Lake Xio!”
Astra sighed and put her hands on the dogs’ necks. “Thank you,” she said, looking at them. They both huffed happily, because what could bring greater joy to a temple dog than chasing fire demons out of town? Astra sighed again. They both flopped over onto their sides at her feet, causing a few people nearby to bounce backwards.
The elder was still looking at her expectantly.
“You already have a priest.” She nodded at Hosea, whose eyebrows rose in shock.
“Oh, Deacon Hosea?” He glanced at the young woman. “Ah… .”
“The reinstatement would not have worked if the Gods did not recognize her authority. I have little power here, we are merely passing through.”
The elder turned to Hosea. “Is what the Doyen Superior says true?”
Astra glared at her from behind the elder’s back, and Hosea nodded slowly. “It is as she says, Elder.”
“Oh, I see.” He straightened up a little. “Priest Hosea of the house of Jo, we welcome you in service to Odwego.”
“I am honored to serve as witness to this binding,” Astra said by rote, before she had even thought about it. Traz smirked at her from where he was trying to look subservient and meek.
Xavai came up then, now strapped into a number of weapons he probably commandeered from some hapless soldiers too confused or intimidated to argue, and stood behind her. The elder eyed him warily.
“We of course welcome your, uh, retinue.” He nodded at Xavai. “And your Ranger.”
“Oh. Thank you? Yes, I mean, thank you.” She rubbed her face while Traz tried not to cringe and Xavai continued standing stoically, as he did best. “It’s been a stressful morning, and it’s not even fifth bell yet.”
Hosea stepped up to them. “I need vestments from the temple. I will lead you to the priest’s quarters, where you are welcome to rest for as long as you wish, Doyen Superior.” She walked off proudly, leaving the slightly stunned elder behind. She led Astra, Traz and Xavai to a suite of opulent rooms behind the Eastern Temple to Muman, which were clearly the former priest’s not-very-humble quarters. They were just as quickly left alone there, in a stately parlor room filled with gilded furniture, precious tapestries, and dozens of beautifully rendered paintings. It was a surreal contrast to the dungeon they had been locked into not a bell’s time ago.
Astra slowly sat down in one of the chairs. Traz all but fell into another, the stress of the whole morning clear on his face and the sweat on his brow. Xavai eventually unstrapped the larger sword from his side and the ax from his back to sit gingerly on one of the more robust looking wooden benches. They all just stared at each other for a while. The dogs paced around the room and then, satisfied (or what passed for it in their weird, fantastic minds), jumped up and settled on the largest couch together and began to snore.
Next: Knights of the Grail
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