The Inner Circle: The Knowing

  *

  Seteal sat in the grass, the dark blue dress El-i-miir had purchased bunched up around her legs. It was not the most expensive dress in the world, but certainly superior in quality to anything Seteal could’ve afforded.

  ‘Ye be all right there, lass?’ Briel asked as he made his way past, dragging the unconscious silt.

  ‘I’m all right,’ Seteal murmured. Her eyes followed the lumbering man until he reached the wagon. There he tethered the demon by its ankle to prevent escape. A soft flutter of wings stole Seteal’s attention. She turned to find Seeol standing in the grass, gazing up at her.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ he said, regret forging a heavy tone.

  ‘I know you are,’ Seteal traced her fingers through the grass. ‘It’s not your fault, but we’re not safe around you.’

  ‘I should’ve stayed in Narvey Wood like El-i-mish said.’ Seeol bobbed his head. ‘I didn’t know what things existed, but it’s too late now.’

  ‘I know.’ Seteal looked at him solemnly. ‘You’ve seen too much.’

  ‘I couldn’t make me stay away. The other one will make me kill things.’ Seeol’s unmoving eyes bored into Seteal’s. ‘The naughty one will do naughty things.’

  ‘Then you mustn’t go.’ Seteal sighed, her own heart aching for the simplicity of life in Elmsville.

  Seeol glanced away. ‘I cannot stay.’

  ‘Then follow us,’ Seteal whispered uncertainly, ‘but keep your distance. Give us a fighting chance the next time you change.’

  ‘Maybe I won’t do it again before we get to the frozen places.’ Seeol spoke without conviction. ‘Elders can turn horses into humans.’ He bounced and danced in a circle flicking his tail with renewed enthusiasm. ‘They can make me nicer.’

  ‘Sure they can,’ Seteal replied distractedly.

  ‘Where’s Emquin?’ Seeol asked abruptly.

  ‘Who’s Emquin?’

  Seeol’s head twitched about in every direction, until it stopped on the tattered remains of the silt’s horse. ‘I killeded Emquin,’ the bird moaned.

  ‘Oh, the horse?’ Seteal raised her eyebrows. ‘It’s okay Seeol. It’s only a horse.’

  ‘Like I’m only an owl?’ Seeol accused with narrowed eyes. ‘You is just like him.’ He pointed a toe at Far-a-mael standing in the middle distance. He bounced once, opened his wings and disappeared amidst the trees.

  Seteal shook her head. The poor little creature couldn’t distinguish between himself and ordinary animals. She dusted off her dress and rose to her feet, pausing to rest a hand against her cheek. It was tender, but not as painful as it had been. The ache in her heart was quite a different problem. Seteal wandered over to the silt where it lay sprawled on the earth. Its eyes were shut tight, but its chest gently rose and fell. She stared at the demon. She just stared for the longest time.

  The silt’s cloak had been removed and its shirt was torn, revealing a white chest with blue nipples. Although she couldn’t decide why precisely, Seteal felt disgusted by what she saw. In some ways the young demon looked oddly human . . . and yet he didn’t. All of the necessary features were there: two eyes, a nose, a mouth. But the angles and shapes were wrong.

  When the creature didn’t respond to a gentle nudge from Seteal’s toe, she kicked it in the ribs. Once again, it didn’t respond in any way other than to grunt. Seteal kicked it again. And again. She laughed giddily and spun around with arms outstretched.

  Long white fingers wrapped around Seteal’s ankle and squeezed so tight that blood couldn’t reach her foot. Intelligent purple eyes stared into Seteal’s, pain and fury painted across the silt’s features. With a flick of his wrist, Seteal was flung off balance so that she fell into the grass.

  ‘Leave me alone,’ the silt grumbled.

  Seteal obeyed, slithering backward along the earth. How could she have been so stupid? It wasn’t like her to be so mean. She mentally slapped herself. It was a demon. It deserved much worse than what she’d done to it.

  ‘Do you remember me?’ Seteal spat, tears running down her cheeks. ‘Do you remember me?’

  ‘Yes,’ the demon replied, apparent sadness in its voice. The sadness had to be a trick. Demons could only think and feel evil thoughts. ‘I must apologise for my behaviour,’ the silt’s voice shook. ‘I shouldn’t have taken you like that. I wasn’t thinking.’

  Driven by fury, Seteal dove at the silt and slapped it so hard that its cheek turned blue. ‘I was raped!’ Seteal screamed. ‘You left me there to be raped!’

  ‘What?’ The demon clutched its cheek protectively. ‘I did no such thing!’

  ‘You left me there, alone, in that field,’ Seteal sobbed without restraint. ‘You took me away from where I was safe and abandoned me. And he was there. He ruined me!’

  ‘I’m so sorry,’ the demon’s face fell. ‘I didn’t know.’

  ‘Didn’t you?’ Seteal wiped away tears. ‘I think you knew. I think you knew and you wanted it to happen because you’re evil.’

  ‘That’s not true,’ Ilgrin pleaded. ‘I’ve never wanted to hurt anyone.’

  ‘You’re disgusting,’ Seteal taunted the creature.

  ‘That’s enough, Seteal.’ Far-a-mael appeared out of nowhere with an oddly satisfied expression on his face. ‘What’s your name, boy?’ He turned his attention to the silt.

  ‘Ilgrin Geld,’ the demon replied after a moment’s hesitation.

  ‘Mister Geld.’ Far-a-mael chuckled mirthlessly as he turned to Seteal with raised eyebrows. ‘Did you hear that? He’s got an Abnatian name. Have you ever heard of anything so ridiculous?’

  ‘I don’t think I have.’ Seteal burst out laughing, surprising even herself by the malice in her tone.

  ‘I wonder what story you’ll tell us?’ Far-a-mael bent to stare into the silt’s eyes. ‘Why would a silt have an Abnatian name?’

  ‘I was raised from infancy by humans in Abnatol,’ Ilgrin said through gritted teeth.

  ‘You see.’ Far-a-mael turned to Seteal. ‘They can’t help themselves. They’re liars, all of them. It’s all they can do.’

  ‘Yes, I can see that.’ Seteal shook her head disparagingly.

  ‘Da ye be sure?’ Fes made her presence known. ‘We be travellin’ the world for many years and I be able to recognise an Abnatian accent when I be hearin’ one.’

  ‘Nonsense,’ Far-a-mael scoffed at the Merry Islander. ‘Know your enemy. It’s the first rule of war. His accent simply implies that the silt has studied Abnatians to increase the plausibility of his story.’

  ‘What be ye plans for him then?’ Briel asked, stepping up beside Fes.

  ‘Capturing a live silt is indeed a rare opportunity,’ Far-a-mael murmured thoughtfully. ‘Upon our return to the Frozen Lands, I’ll present him to the elders for interrogation.’

  ‘No.’ Ilgrin’s eyes widened with fear. ‘Please let me go. I’ve done nothing wrong.’

  ‘Be quiet.’ Far-a-mael waved his hand at the creature, who fell back obediently, leaving Seteal to assume he’d tampered with its aura.

  ‘Gil’rei Far-a-mael.’ El-i-miir’s timid voice drifted out of the wagon before she did. ‘He’s telling the truth.’

  ‘Poor El-i-miir.’ Far-a-mael laughed condescendingly. ‘Her abilities have been knocked out by such an extreme act of affiliation.’

  ‘But Gil’rei--’

  ‘That’s enough.’ Far-a-mael’s expression hardened and his eyes darkened with anger. ‘I’m your gil’rei, your superior, your master, and I’ll ask for your opinion when I want it. You are a rei. You know nothing and you’ll keep your mouth shut until you’re told otherwise.’

  El-i-miir’s gaze fell to the earth. ‘Yes, Gil’rei.’

  ‘Oh, I’m not even close to finished with you, child,’ Far-a-mael spat furiously. ‘You forced this revolting creature to perform a resurrection. How am I to distinguish you from one of them? You sicken me to the stomach, but rest assured I am yet to come up with a suitable punishment.’

  ‘
I saved your life,’ El-i-miir squeaked.

  ‘You sound like one of them.’ Far-a-mael jabbed a finger at Ilgrin. ‘That’s how they try to justify their actions. You didn’t save my life. You recreated it at the cost of someone else’s.’

  Briel put a hand on Far-a-mael’s shoulder. ‘I think that’ll be enough.’

  ‘Don’t touch me.’ He slapped off the man’s hand. ‘You would all do very well to stay away from me,’ he finished sharply and stormed off to his tent. ‘We’ll be moving on before the hour is done.’