Demon’s Quest (High Demon #4)(43)
Author: Connie Suttle

Love, what do you think they’ll find to say about the old bastard? Teeg’s voice was in my head.

I don’t know, other than he knew how to cook, I replied.

Well, there’s that, Teeg agreed thoughtfully.

Tory, Lok and Lendill waited next to our seating area while our company took its seats. Small, complimentary palm-vids were placed on the back of the seat in front of us. By pressing a button, we could pull up information on the deceased, and even record the ceremony or images of guests, if we wanted. Unfortunately, more than a few were trained on us already.

Soft music played while the remaining guests filtered in, escorted by temple acolytes dressed in the accustomed funeral white. Funerals were seldom invitation only, but this had turned into a state affair. Even the Governor of the Realm was there, since Wylend and Teeg had come.

I’d gotten mindspeech from Aurelius earlier—I didn’t know exactly where his assignment had taken him, but wherever it was, he’d gotten news of Addah’s death. He and I had held a lengthy mental conversation regarding dead parents and lost opportunities.

Once the Governor of the Realm was seated off to the side, the ceremony began. My conversation with Teeg proved to be prophetic—the priest went on at length about Addah’s service to his customers and his genius in the kitchen. Very little was said about his extensive family. I glanced across the aisle at Farla and the other wives. Each was sitting on the first row, accompanied by their firstborn sons.

Surprisingly enough, Fes had come with Farla. I’d heard he’d wakened, but I hadn’t known that he was fit enough to attend the funeral. His face was pale, but so was Farla’s. He looked much like her, with darker hair, though his eyes were Addah’s. Farla was in a terrible position—one of her sons was imprisoned for killing her husband. The situation had to be traumatic. I saw her squeezing Fes’ hand several times with one of hers as she wiped away tears with the other.

Farla’s head rested on Fes’ shoulder, too, and he whispered to her now and then while she nodded, wiping more tears away with a kerchief provided by the temple. I held back my sigh of relief when the service was over and we stood when prompted, ready to file out. The family went first, followed by my bunch, in reverse order.

Wide doors at the front of the temple were swung open, allowing daylight to wash over the crowd near the back. We’d almost reached the portal when someone to my left stood. In slow motion I whirled to see who it was, receiving a terrible shock; they’d allowed Marzi to come.

Although she was surrounded by guards and wore shock cuffs, she somehow held a weapon in her hand. One of her guards, moving faster than the others, batted at the hand holding the weapon, which was aimed directly at me. The guard’s blow caused Marzi’s aim to go wide. Instead of sending the projectile flying at me, it now flew toward Corolan’s head.

I may have screamed—I don’t remember—all I know is that I moved swiftly enough to leap in front of the warlock, who was too stunned to move. Or perhaps he was moving, as were others around us, it’s just that I could and did move so much faster.

As I leapt forward, I felt the bullet hit my neck, effectively deflecting it from Corolan. I heard shouting around me as the front of my beautiful, white gown was splashed with blood. Before everything went black, I recalled in some part of my mind that my carotid artery had likely been hit.

Marzi’s four guards forced her to the temple floor quickly, wrestling the weapon from her hand and employing the shock cuffs. She was shrieking and convulsing while chaos erupted around the King of Karathia, the founding member of the Campiaan Alliance and their combined party. All were struggling to reach Reah, who was bleeding profusely.

"Enough." All were thrown back gently as a huge, blue Larentii appeared in their midst, Reah held in only one arm. His other hand was pressed firmly over the wound in her neck, sealing the wound swiftly with quick thinking and power. His clothing was covered in blood—Reah had been soaked in it. Kifirin appeared as well, shocking all the guests remaining inside the temple.

"Stand back," Kifirin growled. "Who has done this to our small one?" He stepped toward the guards, who still held Marzi on the floor. She stared up at him—he was in his smaller Thifilathi, black scales gleaming, wings half-furled, horns curling about his face and dark eyes angry as they glared at Marzi Desh.

"Save me!" She shouted. "He’ll kill me!"

Her words caused Kifirin to breathe a billowing cloud of smoke. Marzi and her guards shrank back. "I won’t kill you," Kifirin growled. "From this point forward, however, you will only speak the truth." Kifirin disappeared.

"Reah? Open your eyes, sweetheart." I heard Teeg’s voice from far away. Where was I? My head was stuffed with cotton. There was no pain, but something had gone wrong. I just couldn’t recall what it was.

"She’s trying to wake—she moved a little." Wylend’s voice, sounding hopeful.

"Please tell me she’s all right." Radolf fretted.

"Karzac’s here—he’d let us know if there’s a problem." That was Tory’s voice.

"We will give blood if it works for our Reah." Nenzi, now, but what was he saying? What did that mean?

"Young one, her grandfather and her great-aunt have already donated, and we have two more who are compatible and willing to give," Karzac replied to Nenzi’s worried statement.

"Karzac?" My eyelids were weighted, I think, it took such an effort to lift them, and they wanted to close again immediately.

"Little girl, stay with us," Karzac brushed gentle fingers down my face. "You’ve lost much blood; that foul woman hit a major artery. If the Larentii hadn’t come, even I wouldn’t have been able to save you. You are stable now, so do not fret—we just need to get a bit more blood into you."

"Who?" I was struggling to remember the woman Karzac spoke of.

"Mother." I heard Ilvan’s voice but I couldn’t see him. Now I remembered. Marzi. Marzi, the one who’d killed my mother had nearly killed me, and probably not for the first time.

"Not for you to worry over at the moment," Karzac was hanging another bag of blood on a pole beside my bed. I didn’t know where I was, the ceiling was unfamiliar.

"You are in the house that Gavril purchased for you in Targis," Karzac said softly, connecting the blood bag to a line hooked into my arm. "Rest assured that Marzi Desh is spilling everything she knows, not just to the prison Warden and Norian Keef, but the Governor of the Realm is there as well, and all are asking questions. I’m sure it is an unpleasant experience for her, forced to speak the truth as she is."