Demon Revealed (High Demon #2)(22)
Author: Connie Suttle

"Can you make a simple sandwich?"

"Of course." We walked back to the kitchen. Arvil was served an ox-roast sandwich with all the trimmings. Delvin and two other wizards who were with Arvil received the same. It made me wonder where the other five were. I knew better than to ask.

"You know, that seed is coming right along on Kliiver," Arvil said casually as I put clean dishes away. I didn’t even look up at his comment—his words were a lie. He was attempting to trap me, somehow. I wasn’t about to take that bait.

"Goodnight Lord Arvil," I said and walked toward my bedroom. Oh, they’d been careful, going through all my things, but I had a good memory and my only other pair of shoes weren’t quite in the same spot inside my closet. They did suspect me. I wondered if I should send mindspeech to Lendill, and then decided against it. He’d just tell me to keep doing what I was doing unless they tried to kill me. I wanted to skip away from Campiaa so badly right then it made my head hurt.

"Would you like breakfast? Have you eaten yet?" I asked Teeg when he showed up the next morning.

"I wouldn’t mind," he said. He had a plate of food sitting in front of him quickly. I’d poached eggs and served them over toast points with sauce and shaved ham. Fresh fruit went with the rest, and Teeg ate everything.

"That was perfect," he sighed, handing the empty plate back to me. The cabinetmakers had finished their job, so we were the only ones in the kitchen right then. I wanted to tell him what had happened the night before so badly, and knew I couldn’t. Teeg was loyal to Arvil, who was paying him for his services. I was nothing to Teeg.

The dishwasher worked perfectly, I thanked Teeg for that fact, wrote out my list and headed for the market, my new assistant right behind me. He was only a few months older than I was—nearly twenty he’d said, and his name was Neele. Neele told me about how he lifted weights in his spare time as we rode the pub-trans to the market. Neele was two hands taller than I was, broad across the shoulders and narrow at the waist and hips. I believed him when he said he worked out. He had a scar over his right eye that I was determined not to ask about. He turned many a female head as we shopped for our needs and stopped to talk with two who seemed quite forward. Neele had a date before we ever left the store.

"That turned out well—maybe I’ll ask her if she has a friend to bring for you, Re." Neele was grinning at me. "When’s the last time you had sex?"

"Not that long ago," I muttered, hauling bags up the steps of the pub-trans. "And I prefer to make my own dates. Thank you for thinking of me, but I’ll find my own. Woman." Neele snickered at my stumble. He thought I was embarrassed to admit I’d have a hard time finding a date. I let him continue thinking that.

"This soup is exceptional." Arvil was asking for more and we hadn’t even gotten to the main course yet. The market had gotten fresh shrimp so I’d bought some, although they were small. These were perfect for soup or salads. The main course was redfish that I’d only seen imported from three Alliance worlds. It made me wonder if Campiaa was doing business on the black market with some of those worlds. I knew which ones supplied the redfish, so I resolved to send that information to Lendill. He might yell that it was unimportant. I knew where that opinion had gotten us before.

"We have a little errand to run after dinner," Arvil was dipping up the last of his second helping of soup. "Delvin here tells me you’re a pretty good shot, Re."

"He doesn’t miss," Delvin said, causing Neele to stare at me. "We’re having a problem with the same enemy we had on Mandil," Delvin went on. "Our fields are under attack, so we’re taking you with us to see if we can’t rid ourselves of that little problem."

At that moment, I wanted to shout at Delvin. Scream at him and beat on his chest. What was he doing, telling Arvil San Gerxon things like that? He was determined to get me killed. I just knew it.

"Well, I normally don’t go out with my wizards," Arvil smiled as I set a plate of fish in front of him first. "But after Delvin said you were such a good shot, I had to see this for myself."

"I don’t have suitable clothing," I said, placing other plates around the makeshift table Teeg had brought in from somewhere.

"I got something for you this afternoon," Delvin grinned. "Boots, too."

"Then I’ll go," I said.

Cruel-mouth folded us. I had no idea what world we stood upon when we landed, but it held the scent of plowed fields. I couldn’t see trees anywhere near and sprinklers were sending jets of water far out into the fields in a circular pattern. In the moonlight, the mist off the water looked spectacular.

"They’re heading this way, Master Arvil," one of three men approached us when we landed, and now bowed respectfully to Arvil.

"You have the ranos rifles ready?"

"Several for each of you."

"I will not be shooting, I will be watching," Arvil snapped.

"Of course, Master Arvil." The man bowed again. I knew why Arvil wouldn’t be shooting—he couldn’t see the enemy. The wizards and I could. Silently cursing Delvin for perhaps the hundredth time, I slung one rifle over my shoulder and accepted the second, checking the charge readout. It was ready.

"Heads up," the gray-haired wizard called. I’d already sighted the lights—they were blinking as they walked toward us.

"These have been charging once they’re hit," Delvin said quietly beside me. "Be prepared." I wanted to tell him what he could do with his information.

"Af te Jufaleh," I said instead. Tory had given me the meaning for the High Demon words—they meant go to perdition.

"Re, you’ll have to tell me what that means sometime," Delvin grinned and lifted his rifle.

"Be happy to," I muttered my reply and sighted my first target.

Arvil was laughing and clapping his hands with glee as I emptied my first ranos rifle in very little time, dropping it at my feet and allowing the second rifle to slide off my shoulder. I aimed and fired it just as quickly as the first. Spawn eye lights were winking out every time I fired. Arvil couldn’t see the enemy but cruel-mouth was telling him, with corroboration from the others that I wasn’t missing. Arvil was getting his money’s worth, I think—the best of food for his table and a marksman right along with it. Somewhere in the Alliance records were my marksman’s medals—I’d earned everything they could give out to a recruit. They would have been given to me had I gone to any job except the one I did—there wasn’t any need to wear medals such as that on a cook’s uniform.