The Devil's Deuce (The Barrier War) (39 page)

“Well, I suppose I can pump you for information on that at
some later point,” Vander said with a smile, “but I was intrigued by something
you mentioned about the paladins you and your friends hunted down and captured;
the ones corrupted by the demon’s presence. Our companion, Wein, was under the
influence of the same demon, you see, and I had thought that if he had managed
to outlive the one Danner killed, perhaps he might have shaken its control.
Everything I’ve studied seems to suggest such mind control is temporary unless
maintained by the instigator. But with the demon dead, these other paladins
should have reverted to their previous states of mind.”

Marc frowned.

“I seem to remember a conversation Danner overheard between
the demon and some unknown party, where the demon was giving some orders, but
as conversation, not mind control,” Marc said. “I had completely forgotten
about it until now. Perhaps there’s someone, or rather some
thing
, still
around?”

“Either that, or the mind control was passed from one
brother of The Three to the next, and it’s still in the hands of whichever of
them is in yonder army,” Vander said. He frowned, a mirror image of Marc’s
expression, although neither paladin noticed. “I think that’s unlikely, because
of the distance involved and suddenness of the two deaths. The demon would have
had to take control in the instant of its brother’s death, and I imagine that
with two out of three dying, the third was in no mental state to do any such
thing. Which makes your explanation more probable. You said there’s been no
further spread of demonic influence, which suggests that whatever creature
remains can maintain a hold, but not extend it.”

Vander tapped his chin thoughtfully.

“I wonder, did you ever read
Harpher’s
extrapolations from the immortal texts?”

“It’s three down in a stack in a living room back in Nocka,”
Marc said almost apologetically. “Our weekend leaves got abruptly cancelled
thanks to the invasion, and I never had a chance to get back to read it.”

“You won’t be sorry when you do,” Vander said. “It’s got a
fascinating catalogue of various demons you won’t find named anywhere else. One
of these is a creature called a dybbuk, of which there are very few. A dybbuk
has no body of its own, nor is it strictly a demon, which makes detecting it
quite difficult. They are an extremely rare combination of demonic essence and
deceased soul that require a living host to exist. Fortunately, few survive
more than a moment after their creation, due to the bizarre circumstances
necessary to create one. They live in the minds of others, both mortal and
immortal, and dominate those minds completely. But they’re subtle and work hard
to allow no sudden changes in routine or personality to announce their
presence. Most of the time, even the victim doesn’t know until it’s too late.
Eventually, the dybbuk takes complete control and goes about running the
victim’s life as it sees fit, with no one the wiser.”

“Interesting, but I fail to see where…”

“
Harpher
also includes a note that
because of the dybbuks’ abilities of mental domination, they can extend that to
other minds as well. There were cases he mentions from the original Merging War
of mortals controlled by immortal powers, and in one instance The Three were
the powers in question. The dybbuk can only originate control in its chosen
victim, but he found it could continue the domination and control instigated by
another.”

“So basically what you’re suggesting is that the demon
Danner killed had one of these dybbuks working under him, and after the demon
was wiped out, the dybbuk’s been continuing that control ever since, and that’s
why the paladins were still under the influence.”

“Very good.”

“In that case, we’re in trouble,” Marc said heavily. “We
completely forgot there was still someone running things with those paladins,
and if it’s this dybbuk, it’s had months and months to entrench itself. There’s
no way we’ll ever figure out who in Hell it is.”

“For San’s sake, don’t despair, boy,” Vander said sharply.
“Just keep your eyes and mind open, and you’ll see something that doesn’t quite
fit, and eventually you’ll figure it out. You’re an Orange paladin, after all.”

Marc smiled and the two paladins shook hands firmly before
moving off to retire for the night.

When we say we ‘know’ something, this is – in truth – nothing more than
what we currently believe.

-
Knerry
Raltin
,

“Forms of Communication” (102 AL)

When a woman asks ‘Did you love me?’ telling her ‘I believe I did’ will
not go over well, no matter how you try to explain or rationalize the
statement.

- (written in the margin by an unknown paladin
trainee)

- 1 -

The next day was a mixture of success and failure, surety
and confusion, hope and disaster. Trebor had successfully healed Vander’s
dakkan, and the beast was flight-worthy by morning. Danner and Trebor rode
behind the paladins, and it was agreed that Garet would fly them back at the
end of the day, regardless of the Council’s decisions.

The Shadow Company pair made the first of their stops at the
Prismatic chapterhouse. They dropped off a thick packet with the Council
itself, then left a lengthy letter for a Yellow paladin who, like Gerard, was a
Protector of the
Ash’Ailant
– the Stones which kept the Merging in
check. They still didn’t know the name of the Yellow paladin, or that of any
other Protectors besides Gerard and Danner’s friend Jon de’Serrika. They left
the letter in a secret location and lit a specific candle in one of the many
chapels within the chapterhouse. They were to pick up a response in the same
drop spot before they left that evening.

They next visited the city quartermaster’s office, where
they put in a requisition for replacement weapons and armor, as well as
equipment to repair what could still be salvaged. The overweight quartermaster
barely withheld a sneer at Trebor’s appearance, but when they showed him the
crossed sword and shepherd’s crook and said Gerard had sent them, the
quartermaster paled slightly and immediately rushed to fill out the proper
forms. Trebor kept a smile in check and mentally sent commentary about the
rotund human that left Danner coughing as he tried to keep from laughing.

After that, they had some time to themselves until they were
to return to the Prism to retrieve the response to Gerard’s letter. With nowhere
else to go, they followed Danner’s preference and walked to the Dolphin’s Fin,
the bar where Alicia worked.

They had barely stepped into the common room when Danner was
assaulted by a flurry of arms and legs that bore him to the ground as a pair of
insistent lips pinned his head quite firmly to the floor.

“Well, I can see somebody missed you,” Trebor said.

Danner eased his head up as Alicia released him from her
kiss, but she didn’t let him up immediately. She stared at him intently, as
though trying to see if anything had changed about him in the last two months
since they’d seen each other. Neither of them had spoken.

“People are starting to stare,” Trebor said mildly. “You
know, they have chairs to sit in, and I’m sure there’s a bed somewhere if you
prefer that to the floor.”

“Shut up, Trebor,” Alicia said, not unkindly.

“Yes, ma’am.” Trebor stared at them a moment. “I think I’ll
just wander over here and get a drink.”

“Do that.”

Trebor walked to the bar and left the two of them on the
floor staring silently at each other. Finally Alicia spoke.

“You couldn’t have written a letter?” she asked. “I’ve been
worried sick.”

“Who could I get to deliver it?” he asked. “I’ve been living
in a tree for the last month.”

“Still.” She paused. “When did you get back?”

“I’m not exactly back yet,” he said with a half frown. “
Treb
and I just came into town this morning to run some
errands for Gerard, and I wanted to stop by and see you.”

“I’m glad you did.”

“So am I,” he said. “Or at least I would be if you’d let me
up off the floor.”

Suddenly the two of them became aware of the rest of the
world around them, and Alicia jumped off of him blushing furiously. A dozen
patrons of the bar were standing nearby looking at them curiously. As Danner
sheepishly got to his feet, they chuckled and returned to their drinks and
conversations. Danner’s ears turned a flaming red as one burly man winked at
him slyly.

The Dolphin’s Fin was unremarkable in the way of bars, and
the only thing to recommend it over any other establishment was the cleanliness
of the room. Alan
Finright
, the owner and bartender,
was a fastidious man who insisted on his floors being swept and was incessantly
wiping down the main bar with one of several rags he always kept on his person.
When a customer moved to set down a glass, a square of corkboard appeared
beneath it as if by magic to prevent liquid stains from any spills or
condensation on the side of the glass. A common form of gambling for regular
patrons was to watch for anyone unlucky enough to spill their drink on the bar,
at which point the regulars would furiously place bets on how many seconds or
minutes it would take for Alan to arrive and clean up the mess.

Alicia liked working there because Alan’s cleanliness fitted
her own preference for tidiness, a habit she’d learned working for Moreen. She
also brought with her certain recipes for food and drink she’d acquired at the
Dragoenix Inn, which were starting to become popular with the regulars at the
Dolphin’s Fin. Alan appreciated Alicia’s efforts and had already made her one
of the senior barmaids. Some of the other barmaids had resented her quick
advancement, but most had come to like her and realized she was a valuable
addition to the staff. Certainly if there were more patrons because of her
recipes, that meant more tips for the other women, which helped soften them
toward Alicia.

Alan had watched the episode at the front door and smiled
patiently as Alicia composed herself. She glanced his direction, and Alan
mouthed for her to take her break early. Alicia blushed and smiled in thanks,
then grabbed a tray with three bowls of soup and two mugs of cahve and walked
to where Danner had joined Trebor at a table.

They spent nearly an hour telling her about the efforts of
Shadow Company and the recent rescue of the paladins, and she spent all of ten
minutes describing the highlights of her time working at the Dolphin’s Fin. All
the while, Danner and Alicia took turns staring at each other like infatuated
children, and by the end of their talk Trebor was shifting uncomfortably in his
chair as he tried to block out the mental thoughts of each, which were rather
intense.

“Well,” Trebor said finally, clearing his throat, “I think
I’m going to stop by
Faldergash’s
place and pick up
those books for Marc. You coming?”

“I’ll be along in a little bit,” Danner said, finally
looking away from Alicia as Trebor stood up. “I want to talk alone with Alicia
for a little bit.”

“Well, you don’t have to be a mind-reader to know you two
have things to, um,
talk
about, so I’ll see you there,” Trebor replied,
shaking his head lightly. By the time he’d finished speaking, Danner had
already gone back to looking at Alicia. Trebor would have thought it
sickeningly cute, but he gave them the excuse of not having seen each other for
so long. He knew at least as well as they did how each felt about the other,
and he knew from Danner that things were still somewhat delicate between them.
Maybe their being alone now would give them a chance to ease back into things.

Danner was his friend, and he owed him that much.

“Alright, I’ll see you there. Not that you can hear a word
I’m saying now anyway, but,” Trebor trailed off and walked out of the bar.

His thoughts were wholly occupied as he walked through the
streets, and he counted on his feet to automatically lead him to
Faldergash’s
home, which was fairly close by. Plans and
concerns about Shadow Company battled with thoughts of Danner and Alicia, which
led to his doubts that he would ever find a woman for himself. Trebor mostly
lived in a world of humans, and he was unlikely to find a female denarae here,
but he was unwilling to return to the simple life of his people long enough to
search for a mate. He could, of course, possibly fall for a human woman, but
what were the chances that she would in turn fall for him, a denarae?

His thoughts absorbed in self-pity, Trebor never noticed the
antagonism creeping on stealthy feet behind him.

- 2 -

Danner and Alicia stayed at the table only a few minutes
before they decided to move to a more private location. Alan kept several rooms
for use by late-night carousers who were unable to make it home safely. He
charged them afterwards, of course, and the few who objected to the unsolicited
care were asked to never return to his bar again. On the whole, the patrons
respected his helpful nature and paid his modest rates as necessary.

Alicia led Danner to one of the rooms, and as soon as the
door was shut, they came together in a fiery passion that left them both
breathless. They moved to sit on the bed and spent several more minutes kissing
before Alicia pulled away.

“Danner, I… we need to talk,” she said uncertainly.

Talk? Now?
Danner thought, then tamped down his
frustration. Aloud, he said, “Alright.”

She paused, collecting her thoughts.

“I’ve been doing a lot of thinking while you were gone, and…
and a lot of feeling, too. It’s been hard without you here to talk to about
this, but I think I’ve finally settled some part of myself.”