Royal Duties - 5. Chapter 5

Kiorl wafted through the Hunt department’s main office, shedding dried blood and ash with each motion as he dumped a collection of filled reliquaries on the nearest desk, snarling a wordless instruction to the demon who sat there. The figure began to fill out paperwork for him, and Kiorl stalked over to the bin which held used soul tokens, ready to be cleaned and re-filed. He emptied his many pockets, finding much more ash and gritty debris within, and promised himself not to return to any of the flame-covered worlds anytime soon. None of them were ever as interesting as the first he and Nassau had found back when they were young.

Kiorl stared at his broken reflection in the nearest mirror for slightly too long to be comfortable, then flinched away. He was not alone in the offices, and so refilled his collection of soul carrying vessels to cover his overly-long linger, and began to weave a complicated braid into one section of his hair as he exited out into the hot, dead air of the Inner Circle.

‘You should wear beads in your braids Ki.’

Kiorl had laughed, turning his head so that the boy could start another many-stranded weave behind his other ear. Ever since he’d shown up at their new house with his mane in a plait – for no other reason than to keep it out of the way whilst he had committed wholesale slaughter Upstairs – Kiaza had been eagerly creating more and more complex designs for him to wear it in. Kiorl didn’t mind, because Kiaza’s smooth scales were soft and cool against his fur, and his deft fingers petted soothingly.

‘And where would I find beads, Kiaza?’

‘We could get them Upstairs? Your hair is so dark… they’d look like stars.’

Kiorl jerked forward.

You want me to look like I just stepped out of The Way and wasn’t careful about it?’

‘Oh Ki!’

Kiorl hadn’t cared for the plait which had fallen from Kiaza’s hands, unravelling as it went, because he’d been much more concerned with pinning the serpent back against his bed and taking him apart with his tongue.

“Good evening Kiorl.” Jin-Ha stood at the narrowing of the path where it split from others and headed into the ravine which lead home. No one uninvited would ever step that way, and Kiorl allowed himself a smile.

“Hey. Good day?”

“Seeing as the whole department is aflutter with your latest Hunting stats, it’d say you’re having the good day. You’ve many new admirers.”

Kiorl shrugged: it was not surprising.

“Flames, you’re a complacent bastard Kiorl.” The little kitsune’s slender muzzle cracked in a wicked grin. “But it does suit you so.”

“Thanks.” Kiorl rolled his shoulders as they found themselves approaching the open doorway of Zinkara Rumah. “See you at dinner?”

“Kiorl-” Jin-Ha stopped him with a paw on his elbow. “A serpent came for you today.”

“Oh?”

“I told it you were Upstairs.”

“Oh.” Kiorl folded back his ears, eyes narrow. “Thanks.”

“I know better than to ask if you wish to talk.” The kitsune inclined his head respectfully, and Kiorl was reminded why he’d allowed the fox to join their house in the first place. He knew his place perfectly. “But you are terribly tense, my lord. I bid you join me for a rest before supper?”

Kiorl hesitated, and this time he felt it when Nassau slipped into the space between his ears.

Go. It will do you good, old friend.

Eavesdrop much, Nas? But the jab with without feeling. It had been so long since Nassau had learnt to selectively listen in on his thoughts, that Kiorl honestly couldn’t remember what it was like to keep anything from his Prince.

Jin-Ha does not gossip, and he has no designs on your position. Nassau’s concern was evident in the tone of his thoughts. Go relax.

“Alright.”

Jin-Ha had decorated his room with thin bamboo mats, a painted paper screen which divided the space, and a bed Kiorl knew was a futon, which he unrolled from its resting position against one wall.

“Tea?”

Kiorl waved the kitsune’s offer away with one hand, and divested himself of his outer garments before he sat on the stuffed cotton mattress. It felt strange to be on the floor.

“You’ve certainly left your mark on the place.”

“I don’t know how you all stand those ridiculous dish-shaped beds!” Jin-Ha’s laugh was vibrant and sparkling, and Kiorl made himself remember that the fox demon was an orator: impossible not to listen to. “They’re so bad for your back.”

“Tradition,” Kiorl shrugged. “I’m used to it.”

“Well, you are a cat,” the kitsune managed to sound only faintly disapproving, “I never credited you with an overabundance of taste.”

“Hey-!”

“Lie back, oh major demon of this house. Let someone attend you for a change.”

It was easy to just go along with Jin-Ha’s suggestion, and Kiorl yawned hugely and stretched his arms over his head causing his spine to crack loudly enough to make his tail tip to twitch in sympathy. He rolled over when prompted, assisting the fox to divest him of his shirt, and hissed when the kitsune pressed firm fingers into the muscles of his lower back.

“Ow!”

“Gods and Mountains… it’s wonder you can even get up in the morning, Kiorl.”

“Sheer force of will,” the panther sniped automatically.

“I don’t doubt it.”

Small, confident hands returned and began to knead the hard knots of muscle in his back. Kiorl wrapped his tail around his thigh, and let himself be ministered to. It was pleasant, easy, and the panther found he didn’t mind the purr which rumbled low in his chest as he was massaged. He was a tactile creature after all, and it seemed to have been a very long time since he’d been on the receiving end of this kind of attention.

“I know you don’t like to talk, but perhaps you will listen?”

Kiorl grunted wordlessly in response, too relaxed to want to form an actual reply. The tip of his tail twitched, and Kiorl was grateful to be laying on it and so not risk smacking Jin-Ha in the face.

“I dare say you will think me too forward, despite being fully clothed, but even for a major demon you strike me as particularly alone, Kiorl. I know that unlike the rest of us you can count the Prince as a true and certain friend, but one cannot seek to receive all that they need from one person alone.”

“Works for Tobias...” Kiorl grumbled indistinctly.

“Very specific kinds of masochism work for Tobias too,” Jin-Ha replied without pause. “And I heard plenty of accounts of your fight with Zai a few years back, so I don’t think you share that particular proclivity.” Quick, adroit fingers pushed in hard just below the point of his shoulder blade, but before Kiorl could growl the tension cracked and he exhaled a groan instead. “You are a powerful demon Kiorl, very powerful. And everyone knows it. There is not a demon in the Inner Circle who would not do your bidding on a word.”

“I do not need you to stroke my ego along with my spine.”

“Indeed.” Sharp knuckles dug into the meat either side of his lower vertebrae and Kiorl bruised his thigh with the coil of his tail. “How long has it been since you took a lover for no other reason than to enjoy their company? And no-” Jin-Ha cut him off as he opened his muzzle, “-Jahke doesn’t count.”

Kiorl wished he could bite back the whine which escaped his throat, but Jin-Ha did not act as though he’d heard.

“Well?”

Kiorl stalled, turned his face to the other side, saw the kitsune watching him with bright-eyed concern, and turned back, settling himself firmly into the futon mattress.

“Not since before the Second Rebellion.”

“Oh Kiorl...”

“Do not pity me!” Fangs flashed brightly as his hackles rose.

“It is not pity to care for a respected friend,”Jin-Ha said, his voice almost as soft as Nassau was in a quiet mood. “But it is a long time to be alone.”

Kiorl closed his eyes, and thought of the room which lay across the hall, empty and cold, the hearth dark for more than a century.

I wouldn’t be alone if Kiaza hadn’t fucked up so spectacularly.

But Nassau would still be the way he is, things will never be like they were before.

Still…. Kiorl pictured Nassau’s smile, a bright, mischievous, lingering thing directed his way over games of Fourchess, suppers eaten whilst lounging upon cushions, across the sands of the Cavern in the days when they had used it as their training ground. I haven’t seen that smile in several lifetimes.

I doubt you ever will again, his inner voice replied regretfully.

And Jin-Ha thinks I am the lonely one.

“Kiorl?”

It took a long moment for the panther to realise his companion had stopped his massage and was knelling back, thick tail curled around his lap, an expression of gracious curiosity on his face.

“Thank you Jin-Ha, I feel much restored.” Kiorl rose gracefully, because he was a cat, and because power and poise were all he had. He bowed to the kitsune. “It was a pleasure to relax in your fine company. I’ll see you at dinner.”

The rigour of etiquette made Jin-Ha swallow the reply Kiorl was certain he had been forming, and the fox inclined his head respectfully. Kiorl did not check to see whether or not he was watched as he left the room.

The door was closed, but the bathroom was, mercifully, empty. Kiorl used a glyph to lock the door behind him, and sat on the edge of the bathpool, waiting for it to fill. It did not take long, and soon he sank into the deep, hot water.

I will never live anywhere without plumbing.

He closed his eyes. His long hair, grown out again partially at the King’s request, escaped it’s braid and floated around and above him as he sank into the water. He thought of the scene at court the previous tenday, before he had made his hasty departure. Another major demon had stood upon the dais of the King’s throne, head bent low as he spoke in a private rumble. The whispers had abounded the Cavern; the King had had her more than once already, and they had arrived together from elsewhere in the Palace. There was a new favourite, and Kiorl had been replaced. Honestly he was surprised it had taken as long it had: major demons were nothing if not ambitious.

You’d better not be drowning yourself in there Ki.

Hi Nas. Kiorl surfaced, half hoping to see his friend present in the bathroom of his house, but unsurprised to find he was still alone. Don’t you know? Cats actually love water.

So you have said.

Ha! Just because you can’t swim.

I can so swim. Nassau sounded rather petulant, Kiorl couldn’t help but reach out towards the presence of the Prince with a warm smile. Actually I was wondering if you wanted to come Upstairs with me.

Will there be alcohol?

Does a dragon shit in the snow?

Miles apart across the inner circle, both demons laughed.

Alright, I’ll meet you at the West Gate. Just give me ten minutes to get dressed. Kiorl hauled himself from the water, shaking messily before reaching toward a stack of fluffy towels. You know, we really should get a bar down here.

Pfft! Someone would have to run it, easier to just go Upstairs.

Hunting and booze. Kiorl grinned broadly. Alright then, lets go be evil.

*

“Take it up with the King,” Kiorl snapped as soon as Ghianda had finished explaining the problem. “He chose them, they can be his problem.”

“We cannot bother his Majesty with this.” Ghianda’s glare was accusatory, and Kiorl did not like so bold an expression on any demon inferior to him. “The King has been in a sour mood of late.”

And he’s blaming me for that. Kiorl thought viciously. I am not destroying myself to keep Sathriel and everyone else happy.

He growled low, wordless and threatening, until Ghianda looked away guilty, knowing he had overstepped the mark. Kiorl sighed, and wished this wasn’t an issue he had to deal with.

The panther pictured the Prince of Hell, his oldest and dearest friend, reclining on his expansive plush mattress in the same state Kiorl had last left him in: naked, flushed, fucked, and thoroughly debauched. With a sly grin, he sent the image in the direction within his mind he most associated with Nassau, and only had to wait two breaths for the Prince to slide into his head with a hum of concentration.

Am I disturbing you, Nas?

No. I am also playing mah-jong with Fan He Ling.

Huh? Kiorl frowned, because Fan He Ling was a major demon of Sathriel’s court, and there was no way Nassau was holding court with his father without Kiorl’s presence.

Father went upstairs and I met half his courtiers milling around in the Long Gallery. Don’t fret Kiorl. Nassau’s words were awash with a cool balm to soothe Kiorl’s snap-fast anxiety. It’s just a social moment, nothing heavy.

If you say so…

I do say so. What’s up, old friend?

Kiorl turned his physical attention back to the demon who stood before him, looking unhappy and shuffling from foot to foot uneasily.

Can you explain why I’m having to deal with this nonsense?

Nassau took only a moment to infiltrate the mind of the other demon – and Ghianda probably wouldn’t be aware it was even happening unless Nassau decided to speak to him – and understand the situation at hand. When Kiorl felt him fully return, Nassau’s presence bubbled with laughter.

Kiorl, my darling panther, is this absolutely your problem to deal with.

But why? Kiorl whined.

Because you’re so proud of being the most senior major demon in Hell, and because you’re the best Hunter there is.

Kiorl preened silently.

I remember you putting in the effort in order to be so. Nassau continued. And now you have responsibilities.

Can’t you deal with him? Kiorl asked, knowing his thoughts held a plaintive whine he would have never vocally expressed.

Below my pay grade, darling. Go deal with your errant staff and come join me for supper later? Nassau’s words rung with warm promise, and Kiorl could practically feel the hand which would smooth down his spine, fingernails dragging through his pelt. Please?

Anything for you Nas.

Nassau slid from his mind with a brief, departing touch of pleasure, and Kiorl dragged his teeth over his fangs as he looked at the other major demon. Nassau was right – of course he was right – and the problems the other Hunters had all eventually had to filter up to Kiorl because was the eldest, the most talented, and the most dangerous of them. He snapped his fangs together, and had the pleasure of watching Ghianda startle.

“And where is Jin-Ha? He is their tutor is he not?”

Ghianda bowed low before he spoke, clearly hoping that reverence was going to put him into Kiorl’s good graces.

“He is Upstairs. One of his favoured worlds suffered a natural disaster of some type and he needed to put in an appearance at one of his temples. Many others have gone on similar errands, it seems a whole segment of the Earths on that wheel have been affected.”

“I will never understand his, or anyone else’s, attachment to temples.” Kiorl flicked an ear back into his braids and forced his tail to still it’s swishing with conscious effort. Why other demons cared about what humans thought of them was a source of constant puzzlement, even more so than why some demons decided to mate with them. Kiorl shuddered. “This is not my problem Ghianda.”

I don’t care if Nas says it is, I can still negotiate.

“Master Kiorl, you are the most senior of-”

Kiorl cut him off with a snarl: he did not need to listen to Ghianda repeating himself.

“You’ve come here owing me after a bet, and now you want another favour when I’ve yet to collect on what you already promised?”

Ghianda made a supplicating gesture with all six hands, head bowing so low that his flat face nearly touched the ground. Ghianda might have been a major demon, powerful in his own right and controlling a household which on the outside at least was not too dissimilar from Kiorl’s, but he didn’t want to risk rousing the anger of the great panther.

“I am deeply sorry, oh master, that your desires have not been fulfilled. What may I, or any of my minor demons, do for you?”

Kiorl considered the offer for a long moment, hand lingering on the pommel of his long white-bladed kukri, then he smiled, fangs bright.

“Do you still live with that Caretaker? The one with the horns?”

“Shax?” Ghianda looked surprised. “Yes sir. But, my lord, he prefers-”

“I could give two shits what he prefers,” Kiorl snapped. “And if I wanted to fuck him I certainly wouldn’t need a favour from you to do so. I want him to grow something for me.”

“Master Kiorl?”

Kiorl nodded to himself, pleased. The sorts of things Shax could grow with the bones he collected might be enough to return Sathriel’s favour to him, without Kiorl having to revisit the King’s bedchamber. It would take years, but Kiorl had plenty of time.

“Have him come and see me at the Palace.”

“Yes master Kiorl.”

“Now, where are these younglings you want me to look after?”

*

Kiorl found the pair of mismatched demons in the training yard, just where Ghianda had left them, both sat on the ground in the midst of their discarded armour pieces and weapons, playing a children’s game of coloured glass spheres. He was pleased to have taken the time to change into full leathers before arriving, and despite the noise of his approach, neither demon looked up until Kiorl had a blade drawn against each of their throats. The blue-skinned, four-armed one gulped audibly, eyes wide and obviously scared, whilst his partner with the many teeth and exposed cheek bones whimpered.

Fucking whimpered. Ye gods, why am I wasting my time with this?

“Get up.” Kiorl snarled, sheathing both blades with quick, efficient movements as the two demons scrambled to their feet, heads hung low. “Not everyone likes demons, and you certainly shouldn’t be here,” he gestured to the training grounds, “so unaware of your surroundings that you do not notice or care who approaches you.”

“Sorry master.”

Kiorl backhanded the boy across the face before he’d even finished apologising.

“And what use it that after the fact?” he thundered. “Everyone here is more senior and more important than you! The King of Hell himself could have strode across the sands and you wouldn’t have noticed. And he wouldn’t be threatening you, you’d just be dead!” Kiorl roared at the pair of cowering younglings, a wordless noise of rage. “And stop fucking snivelling! You’re demons of the Inner Circle. Stand the fuck up and act like it!”

Kiorl turned away from the pair, scooped up their abandoned equipment, and fairly threw their weapons at them.

“You’ve been being babysat up until now, that’s why I gave you to Jin-Ha – because he’ll be nice to you – but most of the worlds out there are dangerous, not every soul is easy to take and the best ones fight back.” Kiorl drew the short knife he kept at the small of his back and switched it into a backhanded grip. “Let’s see what you’ve learned.”

“B-but...” the toothy one, Orrhaag, and once again Kiorl was thankful for his detailed and efficient memory, stuttered nervously. “Y-y-you’re a major demon. Sir…. We can’t fight you.”

“Yes you fucking can. Stance!”

Nothing about the fight was worth remembering, except for how hesitant the young demons were to commit to their actions. Kiorl barely had to counter, just twisted and slid away from their attacks, bringing up his knife each time to somewhere soft and sensitive, drawing blood in tiny pricks and slivers barely more than scratches. It didn’t take long for him to sigh, step back, and sheath his knife again.

“Both appalling, but passable as long as you don’t have to face anyone who knows what they’re doing. Come on.”

The two demons trailed him as they left the training ground and the complex of the Hunter and Enforcer offices, Requisitions, and Stores, heading down the slope of the hill toward the path which lead first to the West Gate, and further on, Kiorl’s preferred entrance to the Palace. Kiorl knew exactly where he would rather be headed, but he took the turning to the portal and returned Inai’s welcoming smile.

“Kiorl.” The big naga bowed respectfully and held out a massive, clawed hand ready for the token. “Off somewhere fun? And I see you have interesting company today.”

Kiorl rolled his eyes, but relaxed in his housemate’s presence.

“Potential new Hunters. They’re Jin-Ha’s students.”

“But he’s Upstairs and you got stuck with them.” Inai filled in with a flick of his forked tongue.

“Terrible gossip you might be Inai, but you do keep your ear to the ground.” Kiorl scanned the Naga’s smooth scaled head. “I mean, if you had ears. Any other fun tidbits for me?”

“Bir Asina came back through the Gate about two hours ago with some dark-skinned mortal pet, and Tua looked really pissed off about it.” Inai shrugged. “Came from some fringe Earth with magic which had a salamander problem sometime last century.”

Kiorl frowned, tail flicking.

“He brought a pet through the West Gate?”

“Maybe he’s gonna recruit?” Inai offered diplomatically.

“Fuck I hope not. No one in the Circle is less qualified to recruit, not even you.” Kiorl made a mental note to stalk the pale, scaly demon down upon his return and give him a thorough tongue lashing for using the most important of the four portals to bring home his toys. He pressed his ears back briefly, then handed his token over to Inai. “You’ll keep an eye out for any other interesting happenings for me, won’t you Inai?”

“Of course m’lord.” Inai gave his very best deferential bow, and Kiorl could tell the obeisance from one so broad and imposing as the naga impressed the two younglings. Inai began to spin the wheels of the dial with smooth, well practised gestures. “Will that be all, master Kiorl?”

“Tell Tobias I should be back for dinner,” he cast a withering glance at the mismatched pair. “This shouldn’t take long.”

Moving through The Way took longer than it should have, what with three of Pulo’s hands on his shoulders and waist, the blue-skinned boy holding fast to his dog-like companion with the fourth, even whilst Kiorl wound his tail with the Orrhaag’s exposed tail bones. On the return journey Kiorl made a mental note to make them do it without physical contact, because at some point the new demons would need to navigate without a safety net.

They arrived into the early evening of a busy city, tucked into the darkest corner of a narrow side street down which no-one would have a need to be travelling. Beyond there were lights, bursts of multicoloured flame from some enchanter’s streetside show, and the smells of roasting meats and hot wine. Kiorl grinned – bright and evil – as the underdressed Pulo shivered: he always loved a winter a somewhere. For no other reason than he could, Kiorl rubbed his hands together in a complex pattern, and drew them apart slowly as a whorl of free-floating flame shimmered into existence between his palms. It had been one of the first spells he’d learnt, and the very first he’d taught to a bright eyed Kiaza what felt like aeons ago.

‘If you can make your own fire, then you won’t always need me to keep you warm.’

‘You don’t want to be with me?’ Kiaza’s brilliant eyes were plaintive and shimmering.

‘Don’t be silly little one.’ Kiorl tucked the snake into his side, an arm tight around his waist. ‘I’ll always be here.’

Kiorl extinguished his flame: it was far easier to use magic on a world where thaumaturgic energy was naturally abundant, but it was a waste of time and talents nonetheless. Instead he closed his eyes, opened them twice, and smiled as both demon did the same without being told. The lights of the city beyond faded, becoming mere pale things, more ghosts of themselves than actual images, and instead all the demon’s visual attention was turned to the souls within the bodies of the people who milled – shouting, talking, laughing, singing – along the street. Each one was blissfully unaware of the danger which lurked in the alley.

“Pulo, what is your skill?” he asked genially, eyes scanning for bright points, stronger souls which might be harvested for more energy.

“I can alter an individual's perception of time. Make minutes seem like-”

“I do not require a full explanation boy, I am not an idiot.” Kiorl snapped. “Only an individual's?”

Pulo shifted, cheeks flushing with hot embarrassment.

“I-I have not had much success casting wider nets as of yet master Kiorl.”

“Indeed. We’ll come back to that.” He turned to the other demon. “What about you?”

Orrhaag grunted what might have been a smile, but when he opened his jaws, his jaws opened more than once and in several directions. Kiorl stared at the horrific vision of so many pointy teeth, red gums, saliva slicked jowls, and nodded happily. Moments of sheer and complete terror were always good for separating a soul from it’s moorings, especially if the youngling was slow with a blade.

“That’s very nice. Well done.”

“I can do my hands as well,” came the very gargled reply from somewhere in the centre of the mesh of teeth and tongues.

“Excellent. Save it for the real thing. Now, let’s find us a victim.”

The danger of a magical world was that there was the high possibility of running into a native mortal who knew how to use thaumaturgic energy and could therefore not only defend themselves, but also wouldn’t be subject to the human brain’s usual insistence on not seeing things it wasn’t comfortable with. On a non-magical Earth, Kiorl could have strolled down any street he liked in broad daylight and everyone would have ignored him. The very perceptive might have seen an unusually large black cat, or sometimes a lean dark-skinned man, but most would simply fail to recognise his existence, their brains refusing to accept the presence of something so other. But this was not one of those worlds, and so much more careful stalking was required, because in a land where sorcerers performed street magic, no glamour disguise would be completely fool proof.

Kiorl swarmed up a sheer wall as easily as anyone else might saunter down the street and crouched, a black cut out against the dark sky, overlooking the scene below. The lights had made it appear more packed than it really was, and though there was much more hubbub even one street over, the space below him was population with a moving flow of people of exactly the right density to make a good teaching moment. Kiorl smiled as he was, finally, joined by the other two demons.

“Tell me what you see.”

“Souls,” slobbered Orrhaag, and Kiorl smacked him with the back of his hand for his idiocy.

“Potential victims,” Pulo offered, but followed up quickly, “some more useful than others. That one, the magic user-” the soul he gestured to shone far brighter than those around it, “-is very strong, but it could be problematic. That group is better.”

Kiorl had already spotted the collection of people, walking close together, near the entrance to their alleyway, but he turned his attention there now with deliberate gestures of his ears and tail.

“Go on.”

“Strong, closely tied, but distracted. Not very aware of their surroundings.”

“Very good. Shall we have them then?” Kiorl flexed his fingers where his hands hung between his knees, and shot a smile at the four-armed boy. Pulo flushed in an attractive manner, obviously pleased to have received such direct praise. “Show me how you make your net?”

Whilst both younglings might have been good with their second sight, it was obvious that Pulo hadn’t spent long enough focusing on exactly what he was doing when he used his natural gifted talent. His gestures were clumsy and rushed.

Even though he has four hands to do what I can manage with only one on a good day.

Kiorl rolled his eyes and swiped through the half assembled pattern with his tail.

“Learn,” he commanded.

Weaving the strands of his cloak of seduction was a talent so old and well practised, that Kiorl knew he could accomplish it without conscious thought. It was why he so often had the web ready the moment he stepped from The Way into whatever world he’d chosen, because the strands had woven themselves between the fingers of his mind with just the knowledge of Upstairs. Now he did it deliberately slowly, holding the edge of the cloak in his fangs whilst he drew strands of his natural power – dark, edged with an icy shimmer which made them swim in and out of focus in his inner vision – with his free hand until he had a heavy, fluid mesh which flowed like warm molasses in his fingers. Kiorl waited, barely breathing, as the farthest outlier of the group below turned and circled back to their friends, and then he cast the net with a flick of his wrist, and the cloak of seduction spread wide as it flew, dropping around the humans in a stifling weight of sudden and inescapable arousal. Kiorl purred.

“Sir… that was amazing.”

“Thank you. Majesty taught me himself.” Kiorl couldn’t help the soft boast and the memory of the King, so fond of his youngest son’s playmate, showing him how to throw the power from his fingers, even as Nassau and his next eldest brother had stood on the cavern sands, their argument hushed as Kiorl’s power fell on them. Kiorl pulled himself out of his head and motioned to the younglings. “Go wait down there for me, I shall fetch them.”

He didn’t have to physically move the captives, just returned to the ground, stood in sight and reeled the seduction closer with a rake of his eyes. They came willingly, seeing him without their brains being able to comprehend what it might mean for them to follow him. Orrhaag and Pulo watched the group move into the quiet little side-street with undisguised interest and jealousy.

“Pick one each. Choose wisely.”

Orrhaag clearly choose the human Pulo had been heartbeats from picking out, a burly, dark-skinned man a head taller than Kiorl, with a soul like fire caged inside glass. Pulo glared at his friend, then took his time circling the remaining humans until he choose a slender and willowy woman with extremely long hair, guiding her by the hand to stand with Orrhaag’s choice. Her soul was solid and well-shaped, more like ice than smoke. It was a good pick. As soon as they were close, the influence of Kiorl’s cloak of seduction became obvious, and the three demons watched the two humans explore each other, eyes unseeing.

“Now cast your net Pulo.”

The boy was a quick study and wove his power well, though Kiorl felt that his use of all twenty fingers was actually hindering his progress and made a mental note to talk to Jin-Ha about it. For the pair of chosen victims, time slowed.

“I assume you can speed it up, too?”

Pulo nodded carefully, still keeping his attention on his power.

“Well then, you boys know how to collect correctly?”

“Yes master.”

“Yes sir.”

Kiorl handed them each a reliquary and stepped back.

“Go do your thing. I won’t be far.”

It was hard to see exactly what was happening within the bubble of manipulated time. Pulo’s power bent the light so that what was passing as minutes for Kiorl, was hours upon hours for those within. Orrhaag had grown extra teeth, and his massive, long fingered hands were now massive, long tongued mouths, and there was a plenty of screaming and begging from the humans, which seemed very promising indeed.

Kiorl reeled in his cloak of seduction one thread at a time, and as each of the humans became aware of him, he killed them with his short belt knife. He dumped the bodies unceremoniously in a stack against one wall of the street, and turned back to his students just in time to hear the rare and unmistakable sound of a reliquary cracking as Pulo’s bubble of distortion faded.

“You idiot!” Pulo snapped at his friend, trying, and mostly failing, to catch the leaking soul in his cupped palms.

“It’s not my fault. Fucking fiddly things.” Orrhaag’s voice was angry and clear, despite his extra teeth and tongues. “You realise how hard it is to hold these things with fangs?”

“I told you you should have only mutated one hand.” Pulo shot back. “Shit- oh, master Kiorl. I’m so sorry sir...”

Kiorl cast his glare over the unharmed but dead bodies of the two humans, fallen together in a heap; the four armed boy with two hands dribbling fresh liquid wasted soul, another holding his own full reliquary with care and attention; Orrhaag with the cracked crystal container in one mouth which was quickly becoming a hand. He caught the broken reliquary just as Orrhaag dropped it, and brought his fist down on top of the demon’s skull.

“Second most precious resource in the Inner Circle, apart from water, and you tried to throw it away?”

“Nnnn… but ‘s broken.” Orrhaag rumbled, rubing his head as his many extra fangs and mouths began to morph back into his natural skin.

Kiorl waited until the youngling was entirely whole, then grabbed him by the jaw.

“You’re skills and attitude is sorely lacking, boy. You need to grow some balls to go with those many teeth of yours if you’re to make a real Hunter someday.” The panther narrow his eyes. “Punishment for losing your captured soul and breaking the reliquary...”

Kiorl reached into the demon’s mouth – his real mouth – grasped one of his long, permanent fangs, and yanked. Orrhaag howled, Pulo winced, and Kiorl brought his hand back out dripping blood. He turned and pressed the ripped out tooth into Pulo’s empty palm.

“See to it that he is reminded of his failure. You,” he snarled at Orrhaag, “need to learn to apply yourself better to the tasks with which you have been trusted.”

Kiorl glanced around at the general state of the alleyway and the litter of bodies with a sigh. Ghianda was going to owe him more than one favour for putting up with such rubbish. Kiorl sighed and began to compose a long conversation to have with Jin-Ha upon his return, hoping to make it utterly transparent to the little fox that he Kiorl, was never going to do this again.

I’m not cut out for teaching.

You always had time for Kiaza. His inner voice reminded him.

Kiorl gazed up a the dark sky above them as they made their way to a good spot in order to head back to the Circle. Kiaza had taken his portal stone when he’d left, and the only reason Kiorl could think of that he hadn’t seen scale nor slither of his old friend in all the time he’d been gone, was that Kiaza was dead.

For a horrible, awful heartbeat, Kiorl wondered if Nassau would even care.

Come home, dear friend. I miss you.