84

Demon's Rest

"Murmux," Candle said, in confusion, "what are you–"

"You know this person?"

The members of the Ancestors Own watched Murmux approach warily, hands on their weapons, taking in the sight of the moving tattoos that wriggled and twisted across his flesh with not a little alarm. But Murmux had eyes only for her.

"Candle," Murmux said, his eyes finding hers. He stepped over the stone circle, entering its protections. "I need to tell you something."

"At least he's not an evil spirit," said Carantok, over his shoulder to Ansel who nodded, his face grim.

"I don't know," said Locryn, "Candle was able to come and go as she pleased while she had a demon. I only realised later. The circles only work on low-level spirits, I think."

"What is it?" said Candle to Murmux. It was so strange to see him, in the Twilight Kingdom, striding toward her out of the fading light of day, across the warm sands. He was clearly uncomfortable, squinting in the meagre glow like Zephi. he had lived his whole life in the dark, albeit with occasional forays beneath the starlight. She looked him up and down, still in shock at the sight of him. "What are you doing here?"

When he stepped close to her, and she saw that he was crying – his face was blotchy and his eyes leaking teardrops that flowed freely down his cheeks. Her eyes drifted to his bare torso – to the unhealed wounds on his chest – the wounds she had inflicted, and back up to his face once more. She was filled with unease and dread.

"I have to tell you that I love you," he said, looking down at her, his brown eyes gleaming. Candle felt a hand squeeze the cold, hard lump of her heart, jolting it with warmth. Her pulse thundered in her ears, making it hard to move, hard to think.

"You do?"

Candle saw the glint of silver flash in the weak light of the dying sun and stumbled back as the blade twisted towards her heart. She landed on her backside in the sand, flinging up a hand as a pitiful shield against the attack but Pasco was there first. He tackled Murmux from the side, knocking him flat. The dagger went spinning across the beach and Ansel kicked it away. A second later Murmux was lying with his face in the sand, Pasco atop his back, his arms firmly pinned behind him.

"Oh thank the Dawn," said Murmux, his voice muffled. "Thank you." He twisted up to look at Pasco who gazed back in surprise, not lessening his grip. "Thank you, thank you, thank you. Just make sure you don't let me go or I will try and stab her the moment I get loose. Ug, I hate it here, why is it so bright?” He let out a low moan, squeezed his eyes shut and then planted his face firmly in the soft sand.

Candle got up off the ground a little shakily, dusting off her knees.

"What in the Night is going on?" said Carantok.

"A new friend?" asked Locryn, wryly, bending down to look at Murmux. "Seems nice."

"Who is this?" demanded Delen. "Did he just try to stab Candle?"

Pasco made a gesture with his hands that Candle didn't recognise. Neither apparently, did anyone else.

"Sorry?" said Locryn. Murmux lifted his face, which was now covered in fine granules and started squirming, attempting to get loose.

"Apologies," said Murmux to Pasco, "I don't want to get loose, and I really don't want to stab Candle, but I have to keep trying."

Pasco let out a grunt of frustration as Murmux bucked beneath him. Locryn and Ansel went over to help him. Once Murmux was securely pinned down, Pasco could talk properly with his hands, and he tried again, making the same gesture. Everyone looked at him blankly. He made it again, with exaggerated slowness and then sighed.

"Oh, this one doesn't speak," said Murmux, from his bed in the sand. "But he can hear?" Candle nodded. "He looks like one of the Night Nation slaves. It's good to know they survived. Some of them anyway."

"Slaves?"

"Well, I wasn't going to call them that in front of you, was I now?"

Pasco's pale brow wrinkled as he thought, then he brightened and made the sign for bird and man, then for storm and lightning.

"What?" asked Locryn, clearly perplexed. "He is a bird...man?"

"Oh yes," said Candle, distracted from her uncomfortable thoughts. "He's a lightning bird."

"What does that even mean?" said Delen, staring at Murmux with renewed interest. Murmux smiled up at her, still fighting to get loose.

"He's a shapeshifter," said Candle. "He can transform into a giant bird, and he can call lightning to him and wield it like a weapon."

"I recognise him from legend," signed Pasco, glaring down at Murmux. "I did not think they were real. Beautiful young men who drink blood and prey on the spirits of young women."

Candle blushed, curling her toes in the sand. Why had she let herself get carried away? Was she so desperate for attention that she imagined was so easily duped?

“That’s a legend?” she asked, feeling cold and foolish. “Beautiful young men who drink blood and prey on the spirits of young women?”

"I am beautiful," said Murmux, from his uncomfortable position in the sand. He had a large grin plastered on his face and seemed in a good mood despite his constant struggles. Locryn was sitting on his back now. "How kind of you to mention it."

"What did he say?" asked Locryn, swivelling to look at him and Candle realised only she and Pasco could understand because Murmux was speaking in Old Teurek.

"He's talking about how pretty he is," said Candle.

"Do you know when I started falling in love with you?" said Murmux, flashing her a smile that made her feel a little funny inside. If only she didn't know it was the compulsion that made him say these things. "When I saw how soft and buttery your heart was – precious and fluffy – fragile just like a chick’s. I've never met anyone so kind, never met anyone so foolishly willing to help others. You should have left those humans to die, instead of traipsing with them across the isthmus. You should have killed me." His face twisted, all the joy leaving it, leaving a mask of despair and fear. He looked up at her, pleading. "In fact, you should kill me now. Please. And keep my body away from her so I can rest in peace."

"What is going on?" demanded Delen. "What is he saying?"

"Why does he want you to kill him?" asked Pasco.

"He wants you to what?"

"It's complicated," said Candle. "But the short answer is he has no free will. He is under a compulsion."

"From a demon?"

"Yes," said Murmux.

"No," said Candle. They looked at each other.

"She is a black-hearted demon bitch," said Murmux.

"Not a demon in the traditional sense," said Candle, to the others, "as far as I know. She is a powerful Necromancer, what you would think of as a Revenant." Steren gasped, and Delen and Locryn exchanged looks.

"These are evil tidings," said Pasco. "What can be done?"

"I cannot disobey a direct order from the Necromancer," Murmux said to him. "She made me, she bound me with blood and moonsilver, worked into my flesh. The magic is in my blood, there is no escaping it while I live. I have to do things I don't want to. I had to kill Aeshma who was the only light I had in that dark place. I had to betray Candle. If you loose me from these bonds I won't rest till I have plunged my blade into Candle's breast. I won't be able to stop myself. She knows this."

Pasco looked at Candle, who nodded, her mouth a grim line.

"He can't stop till his task is fulfilled," she said. "Or until he dies. Make sure he can't get away, no matter what he says."

Pasco looked down at Murmux, his face sympathetic.

"I see," he signed. "And if your mistress is killed? Will that break the bond?"

Candle translated and Murmux was still for a moment.

"She is already dead," he said. "I do not know how anyone would accomplish the task."

"I killed that Necromancer beneath the tombs," said Candle in Old Teurek. Pasco shot her a glance, and she felt her cheeks burn. She had a lot of explaining to do.

"A minion," said Murmux, dismissively. "And he was sent as lamb to the slaughter. To make you believe your escape was not orchestrated. My Queen thinks little of her servants, their lives are hers to spend as she wills."

"So your Queen, this Necromancer, sent you here, with instructions to kill Candle?"

Murmux nodded. "She likes to play with her food."

Candle frowned, looking down at him.

"So she knew ­– she wanted me to know – " The blood drained from Candle's face. She turned to Delen and Locryn. "You have to get word," she said, urgently, "to the rest of the Own."

"What? Why? What's going on?"

"If Murmux is here," said Candle, "then she knows where the gate is. She's coming. She wants me to know they are coming."

"Who? Who is coming? This Necromancer Queen?"

"Yes! We have to –"

"How long? How long do we have?"

Murmux shrugged.

"I don't know," said Candle. "Time is strange, between the gates. Maybe a couple of hours, or a day, or a month–"

A giant black dragon crashed to the earth in front of the bothy, showering them with debris. Carantok fired an arrow and it bounced off the glistening scales. Jotham didn't even seem to notice. Something small and red dangled from his claws.

"Candle!" Jotham roared, "Candle, what have you done?"

"Jotham" she cried, her heart swelling to see him, despite the rage flickering in his eyes. "Where have you been? What – "

"The Gate? Who did you tell about the Gate?"

"No one! Well– " she paused guiltily. "I mean I didn't tell anyone–"

Jotham held Zephi up by the back of her dress.

"Then what, in the Old God's Name is this?"

The small girl rotated slowly in a circle and giggled as she made eye contact with the irate dragon. He dropped Zephi onto the sand and snarled at Candle. She stood her ground, but everyone else backed away, falling over in the blast of air that issued from his nostrils.

"It doesn't matter," he said. "It is too late. The Gate is breached." He leapt for the sky. "I don't know if I can hold them back."