Back to the Fortiers'

Trouble started as soon as the office door closed behind the pair.

“Keera,” the blond man wheedled, “it only takes one person to look over an abandoned apartment.  Why don’t you just go without me?”  Royal wasn’t lazy, but he could tell when he wasn’t needed.  Why should he waste his efforts on redundancy?

The red-head was tempted to let Royal go back to the pub.  It wasn’t that she hated the man; he was a decent, albeit annoying, fellow.  Yet, she still couldn’t stand the sight of him.  The prankster’s last practical joke had left her irate and embarrassed.  It had been several weeks and she still hadn’t forgiven him, not that he had apologized.  Even more tempting was the opportunity to fly solo, without Royal’s weight as baggage.  She wasn’t often allowed to fly, an activity which, in the days before her servitude, had been her passion.  Keera fondly remembered long days spent soaring in the sky, playing tag with the clouds, her white wings glittering in the sun.

The young woman snapped herself back to reality.  Her life had changed with her wing color and the choice to bring Royal along wasn’t hers to make.  Kole had issued an order.  She didn’t want to deal with his discipline, not for that howling hyena.  And, there were authorities above Kole that struck far more fear into her heart.

“Forget it,” Keera snapped.  “As much as I hate having you along, I’m not taking the fall for you if Kole finds out you ditched.  He put me in charge, remember?”

“I remember,” Royal replied, oddly calm.  “We should probably get him checked out by a doctor.  His mind must be starting to go.”  Keera rolled her eyes.

“You should just hope that I don’t drop you.”

“I’m sure that would make Kole very happy.”

“After your earlier shenanigans, it probably would.”

“Always the charmer, Keera.”  She didn’t humor him with a reply.  It wouldn’t have wrinkled his calm anyway.  By now the pair had made through the winding passages of the council building and was finally out in the open.  Keera surveyed the darkened sky, judging the weather patterns at the various altitudes.  With the sun down, she would be hard pressed to find an updraft.  Altitude would have to be gained the hard way.

“Are you ready?” Keera asked brusquely.

“To plummet to my doom?” Royal asked with a sarcastic grin. “Always.”  Keera grabbed him beneath the arms and took off into the air.  Her wings strained with the effort of raising the additional weight, but the pair slowly rose higher.  Keera circled as she rose, reminding herself of the lay of the city before heading west towards the Fortier apartment.  Although the extra baggage was annoying and made any aerial acrobatics out of the question, Keera still enjoyed feeling the wind on her face, rushing through her hair and beneath her wings.  This was living.  As the desired apartment building came into view, mischief seized her imagination.  In an instant, she threw herself into a vertical dive, crashing sharply down towards the apartment balcony and laughing wildly.  Royal started to fidget panicky beneath her.  At the last moment, she pulled out of the dive and landed gently on the Fortier balcony.  She scrutinized Royal, hoping for some flash of fear and anger, a sort of retribution for his own actions, but, as he always was under pressure, he remained calm, albeit slightly rumpled.

“Well,” Royal said, brushing himself off, “That was interesting.”  Rolling her eyes in annoyance, Keera proceeded into the apartment.  Although she had been there earlier in the day, she hadn’t bothered to look around.  She and Kole were only responsible for the killing.  Everything appeared to be where they were left: the salt, the bodies.  She wandered into the kitchen, shockingly normal after the carnage of the other room.  A book on the counter caught her attention.  It was probably just a cook book, but she decided to investigate anyways.  At the sight of the large black book, shivers ran up her spine.  The book was all too familiar.  In silver script across the cover was a title Keera remember with dread.  The language was unpronounceable, even by someone who knew the languages demons, but the meaning was clear: The Art of Demon Whispering.  It was only the most dangerous book on demon summoning in existence.  How did a mortal obtain a copy?  Carefully, Keera opened the book to the title page.  There, emblazoned in red, were the words “Property of Deus Ignegena”.  The phrase was obviously Latin, but Keera didn’t know what it meant.  Not for the first time, she cursed the replacement of her knowledge of the elevated tongues with the arcane ones.  Blasted demon.

“Royal, get in here!” Keera yelled at her temporary subordinate, who was still on the balcony.

“Keera,” Royal’s tone was serious, “I think you should get out here.”  Grabbing the book off the counter, she returned to the balcony.  Royal seemed puzzled and slightly anxious.  “I don’t know who was here after you and Kole, but, whoever it was, they used a fair bit of magic.”  That was interesting.  It hadn’t been a member of the Council; Kole had been certain of that.  And, she would need to be a powerful magician, of any sort, if the residual magic made the ever calm royal nervous.  Yet, she had left the dangerous and powerful book sitting on the counter.  It was all interesting and unnerving.

“Come on,” Keera said, shoving the book into Royal’s arms.  “Kole and Tibias are going to want to hear about all of this.”  Grabbing him under the arms once more, she took off into the night.