“What is he?” Arion asked.
“Balgargarath is a demon.”
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Choosing Swords and Shield
I have always worshipped heroes in stories. I had no idea I was surrounded by them.
—THE BOOK OF BRIN
Dawn approached, slipping in all but ignored, and Persephone found herself huddled on the bed in a small room across from another one of those amazing nine-pane windows, thinking about demons.
Now that they had hammered out an agreement, Gronbach had quietly arranged for them to stay in more appealing rooms than the cell. Hers wasn’t far from the one with the huge fireplace, and she felt that was part of its appeal to Gronbach. He seemed nervous about the possibility of them wandering the corridors and offered to have whatever they needed brought to their rooms. She hadn’t asked for anything—none of them had. Something warm to eat would have been nice, barley soup maybe, but that night she was just happy to have things settled. She hadn’t thought to ask about food until it was too late.
The window indicated that the room bordered the outer wall, and from the emptiness of the corridors and the quiet of the place, Persephone had the impression this portion of Caric had been emptied of its usual inhabitants. Perhaps it was because of them, because Gronbach didn’t want anyone to see the forbidden Rhunes and the hated Fhrey staying down the hall. Persephone preferred to believe Gronbach was hiding his criminal act as best he could and that there wasn’t some other reason that this area of the Dherg city had been evacuated.
Then you’ll be dead even if you’re not dragged off to Drumindor.
She wondered if Frost was merely being dramatic.
Three hundred of our bravest warriors gave their lives to trap it.
Learning that Balgargarath was a demon rather than a giant certainly gave her pause. Can Suri and Arion dispatch something that has taken so many lives? Having seen Arion and Gryndal face off, Persephone would bet on the Miralyith in a battle against twice as many Dherg. And of course, if Arion had doubts, surely she would have said something as they were being led out.
Persephone hadn’t slept. She had a room to herself, and while the bed was a little short, it was comfortable. Still, she had lain on top of the covers in the dark for hours, unwilling to disturb even the blankets. She didn’t feel welcomed, or wanted, and feared the worst. At any moment, the door could burst open, and she might be dragged away and thrown into the fires of Drumindor—whatever that was.
The land of the Dherg wasn’t at all what she’d expected. Because of their bright clothes and small stature, she’d anticipated a pleasant little world of pretty homes along a sleepy beach. This gray world of stone was neither charming nor bright.
She may have drifted off at one point or another. If so, the sleep was light, her consciousness skipping across slumber like a flat stone. Eventually, she sat up, pulled the top blanket off the bed, and wrapped it around herself to stave off the chill. She tugged the blanket to her neck and stared at the slowly brightening face of the window. Once more, her thoughts turned to demons.
Persephone didn’t know what a demon was, not really. She’d heard stories, but the tales were always vague on details. Evil and powerful were the two traits they seemed to have in common. Persephone imagined demons as lesser, malevolent gods, minor deities. They were the storms that destroyed the harvest, the cold that killed, and the sickness that brought fever to the dahl. There was a time when she’d believed that the brown bear known as Grin was a demon, but the beast turned out to be just a bear. Gronbach had called his demon Balgargarath, not a pleasant-sounding name.
The light from the window remained weak, just enough to cancel her reflection, but also enough to begin revealing the interior of her quarters. A small stool, the perfect size for a little man or woman, stood beside a desk similar to the one Gronbach used. The surface of this desk was clear of clutter but just as battered as the other. A device was mounted on one side. Made of metal, it had a pair of gaping jaws and a twisted piece that seemed designed to close the two halves together, squeezing anything placed between its teeth. A wide assortment of hammers was mounted on the wall behind the desk, dangling from pairs of wooden pegs.
Roan would love a place like this, Persephone thought, although she wouldn’t keep it as neat.
A tentative knock sounded at the door.
“Come in,” she said apprehensively, not at all certain what she might be inviting.
To her relief, Brin crept inside. She was also bundled in a blanket, the end of which dragged behind. “Did I wake you?”
Persephone shook her head. “Hard to sleep.”
“I know.” The girl stood just inside the door, shifting her weight from bare foot to bare foot.
“C’mon.” Persephone scooted over and patted the mattress. “Up on the bed. That floor is freezing.”
Brin trotted over and jumped up, sitting on her legs. She threw the blanket open, and then closed again, wrapping it tightly about her as she settled in like a bird on a nest. “It’s still summer, isn’t it?”
“Stone steals the heat, and the windows are drafty.”
“Hey! You have a glass window.” Brin looked across the room at the nine brightening squares with a little smile of wonder.
“You don’t?”
Persephone drew a loose hair away from Brin’s eyes. How many times have I watched Sarah do the same thing and think about the futility of the effort?
Brin shook her head, undoing Persephone’s work. The chieftain reached out and pushed the hair away again.
“They put me with Moya and Roan,” Brin said. “Moya snores. Did you know that?”
“Unfortunately, I do.”
They sat for a time, quietly watching the early light begin to expose vague shapes beyond the panes. Ghostly forms only partially revealed themselves, shrouded behind a dim haze that Persephone finally realized was fog. She was anxious to see what this new world was like, but the temperature wasn’t warm enough to burn that fog away, a disappointment. As far as she knew, they were the first Rhunes to cross the Blue Sea. Belgreig was something of a mythical place—the land of the Dherg—the once great empire brought low by the Fhrey after an epic war. It couldn’t all be as dreary as what they’d seen so far.
“What do you remember Maeve telling you about demons?” Persephone asked.
Brin glanced up at her with childlike eyes, wide and innocent. Then they changed. Persephone saw the shift, the fade of the girl and the rise of wisdom. There was a legend that Keepers didn’t simply memorize stories, but inherited the spirits of the Keepers who’d come before. Persephone had asked Maeve if this was true or not, but the former Keeper of Ways never answered. Looking into Brin’s eyes, she wondered anew. Maybe they were all in there, a score of ancestors going back to the first days, a council of spirits who pushed forward when a chieftain posed a question. Brin looked as if she were listening to voices that only she could hear.
“Unlike spirits of nature, demons come from the same place as gods,” Brin said, staring at the desk while speaking as if she were seeing some other place beyond the room. “They are eternal beings of great power that seduced women who then gave birth to the giants. Envious of the gods, they sought the destruction of all their works. They are fire and ice, darkness and despair, pain and torment. Intelligent, crafty, and wicked, they are known to change shape. They can appear as animals, fire, whirlwinds, and people. While in their true form, they are hideous creatures that can appear beautiful and thereby tempt people to act against their better natures. Their purpose is always to betray, destroy, and bring havoc upon the children of the gods, their unworthy rivals.”